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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of Old Mortality, by Sir Walter Scott
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: Old Mortality
+
+Author: Sir Walter Scott
+
+Release Date: February 16, 2003 [eBook #6941]
+[Most recently updated: March 15, 2021]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: David Widger and David Moynihan
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD MORTALITY ***
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Bookcover]
+
+
+[Illustration: Spines]
+
+
+
+
+OLD MORTALITY
+
+by Sir Walter Scott
+
+
+Volume I.
+
+
+[Illustration: Titlepage]
+
+
+[Illustration: Dedication]
+
+
+[Illustration: First Series]
+
+
+
+
+EDITOR’S INTRODUCTION TO OLD MORTALITY.
+
+The origin of “Old Mortality,” perhaps the best of Scott’s historical
+romances, is well known. In May, 1816, Mr. Joseph Train, the gauger
+from Galloway, breakfasted with Scott in Castle Street. He brought
+gifts in his hand,--a relic of Rob Roy, and a parcel of traditions.
+Among these was a letter from Mr. Broadfoot, schoolmaster in
+Pennington, who facetiously signed himself “Clashbottom.” To cleish, or
+clash, is to “flog,” in Scots. From Mr. Broadfoot’s joke arose Jedediah
+Cleishbotham, the dominie of Gandercleugh; the real place of
+Broadfoot’s revels was the Shoulder of Mutton Inn, at Newton Stewart.
+Mr. Train, much pleased with the antiques in “the den” of Castle
+Street, was particularly charmed by that portrait of Claverhouse which
+now hangs on the staircase of the study at Abbotsford. Scott expressed
+the Cavalier opinions about Dundee, which were new to Mr. Train, who
+had been bred in the rural tradition of “Bloody Claver’se.”[1] “Might
+he not,” asked Mr. Train, “be made, in good hands, the hero of a
+national romance as interesting as any about either Wallace or Prince
+Charlie?” He suggested that the story should be delivered “as if from
+the mouth of Old Mortality.” This probably recalled to Scott his own
+meeting with Old Mortality in Dunnottar Churchyard, as described in the
+Introduction to the novel.
+
+     [1] The Editor’s first acquaintance with Claverhouse was obtained
+     through an old nurse, who had lived on a farm beside a burn where,
+     she said, the skulls of Covenanters shot by Bloody Claver’se were
+     still occasionally found. The stream was a tributary of the
+     Ettrick.
+
+The account of the pilgrim, as given by Sir Walter from Mr. Train’s
+memoranda, needs no addition. About Old Mortality’s son, John, who went
+to America in 1776 (? 1774), and settled in Baltimore, a curious romantic
+myth has gathered. Mr. Train told Scott more, as his manuscript at
+Abbotsford shows, than Scott printed. According to Mr. Train, John
+Paterson, of Baltimore, had a son Robert and a daughter Elizabeth. Robert
+married an American lady, who, after his decease, was married to the
+Marquis of Wellesley. Elizabeth married Jerome Bonaparte! Sir Walter
+distrusted these legends, though derived from a Scotch descendant of Old
+Mortality. Mr. Ramage, in March, 1871, wrote to “Notes and Queries”
+ dispelling the myth.
+
+According to Jerome Bonaparte’s descendant, Madame Bonaparte, her family
+were Pattersons, not Patersons. Her Baltimore ancestor’s will is extant,
+has been examined by Old Mortality’s great-grandson, and announces in a
+kind of preamble that the testator was a native of Donegal; his Christian
+name was William (“Notes and Queries,” Fourth Series, vol. vii. p. 219,
+and Fifth Series, August, 1874). This, of course, quite settles the
+question; but the legend is still current among American descendants of
+the old Roxburghshire wanderer.
+
+“Old Mortality,” with its companion, “The Black Dwarf,” was published on
+December 1, 1816, by Mr. Murray in London, and Mr. Blackwood in
+Edinburgh.
+
+The name of “The Author of ‘Waverley’” was omitted on the title-page. The
+reason for a change of publisher may have been chiefly financial
+(Lockhart, v. 152). Scott may have also thought it amusing to appear as
+his own rival in a new field. He had not yet told his secret to Lady
+Abercorn, but he seems to reveal it (for who but he could have known so
+much about the subject?) in a letter to her, of November 29, 1816.  “You
+must know the Marquis well,--or rather you must be the Marquis himself!”
+ quoth Dalgetty. Here follow portions of the letter:
+
+     I do not like the first story, “The Black Dwarf,” at all; but the
+     long one which occupies three volumes is a most remarkable
+     production. . . . I should like to know if you are of my opinion as
+     to these new volumes coming from the same hand. . . . I wander about
+     from nine in the morning till five at night with a plaid about my
+     shoulders and an immensely large bloodhound at my heels, and stick
+     in sprigs which are to become trees when I shall have no eyes to
+     look at them. . . .
+
+     I am truly glad that the Tales have amused you. In my poor opinion
+     they are the best of the four sets, though perhaps I only think so
+     on account of their opening ground less familiar to me than the
+     manners of the Highlanders. . . . If Tom--[His brother, Mr. Thomas
+     Scott.]--wrote those volumes, he has not put me in his secret. . . .
+     General rumour here attributes them to a very ingenious but most
+     unhappy man, a clergyman of the Church of Scotland, who, many years
+     since, was obliged to retire from his profession, and from society,
+     who hides himself under a borrowed name. This hypothesis seems to
+     account satisfactorily for the rigid secrecy observed; but from what
+     I can recollect of the unfortunate individual, these are not the
+     kind of productions I should expect from him. Burley, if I mistake
+     not, was on board the Prince of Orange’s own vessel at the time of
+     his death. There was also in the Life Guards such a person as
+     Francis Stewart, grandson of the last Earl of Bothwell. I have in my
+     possession various proceedings at his father’s instance for
+     recovering some part of the Earl’s large estates which had been
+     granted to the Earls of Buccleugh and Roxburgh. It would appear that
+     Charles I. made some attempts to reinstate him in those lands, but,
+     like most of that poor monarch’s measures, the attempt only served
+     to augment his own enemies, for Buccleugh was one of the first who
+     declared against him in Scotland, and raised a regiment of twelve
+     hundred men, of whom my grandfather’s grandfather (Sir William Scott
+     of Harden) was lieutenant-colonel. This regiment was very active at
+     the destruction of Montrose’s Highland army at Philiphaugh. In
+     Charles the Second’s time the old knight suffered as much through
+     the nonconformity of his wife as Cuddie through that of his mother.
+     My father’s grandmother, who lived to the uncommon age of
+     ninety-eight years, perfectly remembered being carried, when a
+     child, to the field-preachings, where the clergyman thundered from
+     the top of a rock, and the ladies sat upon their side-saddles, which
+     were placed upon the turf for their accommodation, while the men
+     stood round, all armed with swords and pistols. . . . Old Mortality
+     was a living person; I have myself seen him about twenty years ago
+     repairing the Covenanters’ tombs as far north as Dunnottar.
+
+If Lady Abercorn was in any doubt after this ingenuous communication, Mr.
+Murray, the publisher, was in none. (Lockhart, v. 169.) He wrote to Scott
+on December 14, 1816, rejoicing in the success of the Tales, “which must
+be written either by Walter Scott or the Devil. . . . I never experienced
+such unmixed pleasure as the reading of this exquisite work has afforded
+me; and if you could see me, as the author’s literary chamberlain,
+receiving the unanimous and vehement praises of those who have read it,
+and the curses of those whose needs my scanty supply could not satisfy,
+you might judge of the sincerity with which I now entreat you to assure
+the Author of the most complete success.” Lord Holland had said, when Mr.
+Murray asked his opinion, “Opinion! We did not one of us go to bed last
+night,--nothing slept but my gout.”
+
+The very Whigs were conquered. But not the Scottish Whigs, the Auld
+Leaven of the Covenant,--they were still dour, and offered many
+criticisms. Thereon Scott, by way of disproving his authorship, offered
+to review the Tales in the “Quarterly.” His true reason for this step was
+the wish to reply to Dr. Thomas McCrie, author of the “Life of John
+Knox,” who had been criticising Scott’s historical view of the Covenant,
+in the “Edinburgh Christian Instructor.” Scott had, perhaps, no better
+mode of answering his censor. He was indifferent to reviews, but here his
+historical knowledge and his candour had been challenged. Scott always
+recognised the national spirit of the Covenanters, which he remarks on in
+“The Heart of Mid-Lothian,” and now he was treated as a faithless
+Scotsman. For these reasons he reviewed himself; but it is probable, as
+Lockhart says, that William Erskine wrote the literary or aesthetic part
+of the criticism (Lockhart, v.174, note).
+
+Dr. McCrie’s review may be read, or at least may be found, in the fourth
+volume of his collected works (Blackwood, Edinburgh 1857). The critique
+amounts to about eighty-five thousand words. Since the “Princesse de
+Cleves” was reviewed in a book as long as the original, never was so
+lengthy a criticism. As Dr. McCrie’s performance scarcely shares the
+popularity of “Old Mortality,” a note on his ideas may not be
+superfluous, though space does not permit a complete statement of his
+many objections. The Doctor begins by remarks on novels in general, then
+descends to the earlier Waverley romances. “The Antiquary” he pronounces
+to be “tame and fatiguing.” Acknowledging the merits of the others, he
+finds fault with “the foolish lines” (from Burns), “which must have been
+foisted without the author’s knowledge into the title page,” and he
+denounces the “bad taste” of the quotation from “Don Quixote.” Burns and
+Cervantes had done no harm to Dr. McCrie, but his anger was aroused, and
+he, like the McCallum More as described by Andrew Fairservice, “got up
+wi’ an unco’ bang, and garr’d them a’ look about them.” The view of the
+Covenanters is “false and distorted.” These worthies are not to be
+“abused with profane wit or low buffoonery.” “Prayers were not read in
+the parish churches of Scotland” at that time. As Episcopacy was restored
+when Charles II. returned “upon the unanimous petition of the Scottish
+Parliament” (Scott’s Collected Works, vol. xix. p. 78) it is not
+unnatural for the general reader to suppose that prayers would be read by
+the curates. Dr. McCrie maintains that “at the Restoration neither the
+one nor the other” (neither the Scotch nor English Prayer Books) “was
+imposed,” and that the Presbyterians repeatedly “admitted they had no
+such grievance.” No doubt Dr. McCrie is correct. But Mr. James Guthrie,
+who was executed on June 1, 1661, said in his last speech, “Oh that there
+were not many who study to build again what they did formerly
+unwarrantably destroy: I mean Prelacy and the Service Book, a mystery of
+iniquity that works amongst us, whose steps lead unto the house of the
+great Whore, Babylon, the mother of fornication,” and so forth. Either
+this mystery of iniquity, the Book of Common Prayer, “was working amongst
+us,” or it was not. If it was not, of what did Mr. Guthrie complain? If
+it was “working,” was read by certain curates, as by Burnet, afterwards
+Bishop of Salisbury, at Saltoun, Scott is not incorrect. He makes Morton,
+in danger of death, pray in the words of the Prayer Book, “a circumstance
+which so enraged his murderers that they determined to precipitate his
+fate.” Dr. McCrie objects to this incident, which is merely borrowed, one
+may conjecture, from the death of Archbishop Sharpe. The assassins told
+the Archbishop that they would slay him. “Hereupon he began to think of
+death. But (here are just the words of the person who related the story)
+behold! God did not give him the grace to pray to Him without the help of
+a book. But he pulled out of his pocket a small book, and began to read
+over some words to himself, which filled us with amazement and
+indignation.” So they fired their pistols into the old man, and then
+chopped him up with their swords, supposing that he had a charm against
+bullets!  Dr. McCrie seems to have forgotten, or may have disbelieved the
+narrative telling how Sharpe’s use of the Prayer Book, like Morton’s,
+“enraged” his murderers. The incident does not occur in the story of the
+murder by Russell, one of the murderers, a document published in C. K.
+Sharpe’s edition of Kirkton. It need not be true, but it may have
+suggested the prayer of Morton.
+
+If Scott thought that the Prayer Book was ordained to be read in Scotch
+churches, he was wrong; if he merely thought that it might have been read
+in some churches, was “working amongst us,” he was right: at least,
+according to Mr. James Guthrie.
+
+Dr. McCrie argues that Burley would never have wrestled with a soldier in
+an inn, especially in the circumstances. This, he says, was inconsistent
+with Balfour’s “character.” Wodrow remarks, “I cannot hear that this
+gentleman had ever any great character for religion among those that knew
+him, and such were the accounts of him, when abroad, that the reverend
+ministers of the Scots congregation at Rotterdam would never allow him to
+communicate with them.” In Scott’s reading of Burley’s character, there
+was a great deal of the old Adam. That such a man should so resent the
+insolence of a soldier is far from improbable, and our sympathies are
+with Burley on this occasion.
+
+Mause Headrigg is next criticised. Scott never asserted that she was a
+representative of sober Presbyterianism. She had long conducted herself
+prudently, but, when she gave way to her indignation, she only used such
+language as we find on many pages of Wodrow, in the mouths of many
+Covenanters. Indeed, though Manse is undeniably comic, she also commands
+as much respect as the Spartan mother when she bids her only son bear
+himself boldly in the face of torture. If Scott makes her grotesque, he
+also makes her heroic. But Dr. McCrie could not endure the ridiculous
+element, which surely no fair critic can fail to observe in the speeches
+of the gallant and courageous, but not philosophical, members of the
+Covenant’s Extreme Left. Dr. McCrie talks of “the creeping loyalty of the
+Cavaliers.” “Staggering” were a more appropriate epithet. Both sides were
+loyal to principle, both courageous; but the inappropriate and
+promiscuous scriptural language of many Covenanters was, and remains,
+ridiculous. Let us admit that the Covenanters were not averse to all
+games. In one or two sermons they illustrate religion by phrases derived
+from golf!
+
+When Dr. McCrie exclaims, in a rich anger, “Your Fathers!” as if Scott’s
+must either have been Presbyterians or Cavaliers, the retort is cleverly
+put by Sir Walter in the mouth of Jedediah. His ancestors of these days
+had been Quakers, and persecuted by both parties.
+
+Throughout the novel Scott keeps insisting that the Presbyterians had
+been goaded into rebellion, and even into revenge, by cruelty of
+persecution, and that excesses and bloodthirstiness were confined to the
+“High Flyers,” as the milder Covenanters called them. Morton represents
+the ideal of a good Scot in the circumstances. He comes to be ashamed of
+his passive attitude in the face of oppression. He stands up for “that
+freedom from stripes and bondage” which was claimed, as you may read in
+Scripture, by the Apostle Paul, and which every man who is free-born is
+called upon to defend, for his own sake and that of his countrymen. The
+terms demanded by Morton from Monmouth before the battle of Bothwell
+Bridge are such as Scott recognises to be fair. Freedom of worship, and a
+free Parliament, are included.
+
+Dr. McCrie’s chief charges are that Scott does not insist enough on the
+hardships and brutalities of the persecution, and that the ferocity of
+the Covenanters is overstated. He does not admit that the picture drawn
+of “the more rigid Presbyterians” is just. But it is almost impossible to
+overstate the ferocity of the High Flyers’ conduct and creed. Thus
+Wodrow, a witness not quite unfriendly to the rigid Presbyterians, though
+not high-flying enough for Patrick Walker, writes “Mr. Tate informs me
+that he had this account front Mr. Antony Shau, and others of the
+Indulged; that at some time, under the Indulgence, there was a meeting of
+some people, when they resolved in one night . . . to go to every house
+of the Indulged Ministers and kill them, and all in one night.”
+ This anecdote was confirmed by Mr. John Millar, to whose father’s house
+one of these High Flyers came, on this errand. This massacre was not
+aimed at the persecutors, but at the Poundtexts. As to their creed,
+Wodrow has an anecdote of one of his own elders, who told a poor woman
+with many children that “it would be an uncouth mercy” if they were all
+saved.
+
+A pleasant evangel was this, and peacefully was it to have been
+propagated!
+
+Scott was writing a novel, not history. In “The Minstrelsy of the
+Scottish Border” (1802-3) Sir Walter gave this account of the
+persecutions. “Had the system of coercion been continued until our day,
+Blair and Robertson would have preached in the wilderness, and only
+discovered their powers of eloquence and composition by rolling along a
+deeper torrent of gloomy fanaticism. . . . The genius of the persecuted
+became stubborn, obstinate, and ferocious.” He did not, in his romance,
+draw a complete picture of the whole persecution, but he did show, by
+that insolence of Bothwell at Milnwood, which stirs the most sluggish
+blood, how the people were misused. This scene, to Dr. McCrie’s mind, is
+“a mere farce,” because it is enlivened by Manse’s declamations. Scott
+displays the abominable horrors of the torture as forcibly as literature
+may dare to do. But Dr. McCrie is not satisfied, because Macbriar, the
+tortured man, had been taken in arms. Some innocent person should have
+been put in the Boot, to please Dr. McCrie. He never remarks that
+Macbriar conquers our sympathy by his fortitude. He complains of what the
+Covenanters themselves called “the language of Canaan,” which is put into
+their mouths, “a strange, ridiculous, and incoherent jargon compounded of
+Scripture phrases, and cant terms peculiar to their own party opinions in
+ecclesiastical politics.” But what other language did many of them speak?
+“Oh, all ye that can pray, tell all the Lord’s people to try, by mourning
+and prayer, if ye can taigle him, taigle him especially in Scotland, for
+we fear, he will depart from it.” This is the theology of a savage, in
+the style of a clown, but it is quoted by Walker as Mr. Alexander
+Peden’s.’ Mr. John Menzie’s “Testimony” (1670) is all about “hardened
+men, whom though they walk with you for the present with horns of a lamb,
+yet afterward ye may hear them speak with the mouth of a dragon, pricks
+in your eyes and thorns in your sides.” Manse Headrigg scarcely
+caricatures this eloquence, or Peden’s “many and long seventy-eight years
+left-hand defections, and forty-nine years right-hand extremes;” while
+“Professor Simson in Glasgow, and Mr. Glass in Tealing, both with Edom’s
+children cry Raze, raze the very foundation!” Dr. McCrie is reduced to
+supposing that some of the more absurd sermons were incorrectly reported.
+Very possibly they were, but the reports were in the style which the
+people liked. As if to remove all possible charge of partiality, Scott
+made the one faultless Christian of his tale a Covenanting widow, the
+admirable Bessie McLure. But she, says the doctor, “repeatedly banns and
+minces oaths in her conversation.” This outrageous conduct of Bessie’s
+consists in saying “Gude protect us!” and “In Heaven’s name, who are ye?”
+ Next the Doctor congratulates Scott on his talent for buffoonery. “Oh, le
+grand homme, rien ne lui peut plaire.” Scott is later accused of not
+making his peasants sufficiently intelligent.  Cuddie Headrigg and Jenny
+Dennison suffice as answers to this censure.
+
+Probably the best points made by Dr. McCrie are his proof that biblical
+names were not common among the Covenanteers and that Episcopal eloquence
+and Episcopal superstition were often as tardy and as dark as the
+eloquence and superstition of the Presbyterians. He carries the war into
+the opposite camp, with considerable success. His best answer to “Old
+Mortality” would have been a novel, as good and on the whole as fair,
+written from the Covenanting side. Hogg attempted this reply, not to
+Scott’s pleasure according to the Shepherd, in “The Brownie of Bodsbeck.”
+ The Shepherd says that when Scott remarked that the “Brownie” gave an
+untrue description of the age, he replied, “It’s a devilish deal truer
+than yours!” Scott, in his defence, says that to please the friends of
+the Covenanters, “their portraits must be drawn without shadow, and the
+objects of their political antipathy be blackened, hooved, and horned ere
+they will acknowledge the likeness of either.” He gives examples of
+clemency, and even considerateness, in Dundee; for example, he did not
+bring with him a prisoner, “who laboured under a disease rendering it
+painful to him to be on horseback.” He examines the story of John Brown,
+and disproves the blacker circumstances. Yet he appears to hold that
+Dundee should have resigned his commission rather than carry out the
+orders of Government? Burley’s character for ruthlessness is defended by
+the evidence of the “Scottish Worthies.” As Dr. McCrie objects to his
+“buffoonery,” it is odd that he palliates the “strong propensity” of Knox
+“to indulge his vein of humour,” when describing, with ghoul-like mirth,
+the festive circumstances of the murder and burial of Cardinal Beaton.
+The odious part of his satire, Scott says, is confined to “the fierce and
+unreasonable set of extra-Presbyterians,” Wodrow’s High Flyers. “We have
+no delight to dwell either upon the atrocities or absurdities of a people
+whose ignorance and fanaticism were rendered frantic by persecution.”
+ To sum up the controversy, we may say that Scott was unfair, if at all,
+in tone rather than in statement. He grants to the Covenanters dauntless
+resolution and fortitude; he admits their wrongs; we cannot see, on the
+evidence of their literature, that he exaggerates their grotesqueness,
+their superstition, their impossible attitude as of Israelites under a
+Theocracy, which only existed as an ideal, or their ruthlessness on
+certain occasions. The books of Wodrow, Kirkton, and Patrick Walker, the
+sermons, the ghost stories, the dying speeches, the direct testimony of
+their own historians, prove all that Scott says, a hundred times over.
+The facts are correct, the testimony to the presence of another, an
+angelic temper, remains immortal in the figure of Bessie McLure. But an
+unfairness of tone may be detected in the choice of such names as
+Kettledrummle and Poundtext: probably the “jog-trot” friends of the
+Indulgence have more right to complain than the “high-flying” friends of
+the Covenant. Scott had Cavalier sympathies, as Macaulay had Covenanting
+sympathies. That Scott is more unjust to the Covenanters than Macaulay to
+Claverhouse historians will scarcely maintain. Neither history or fiction
+would be very delightful if they were warless.  This must serve as an
+apology more needed by Macaulay--than by Sir Walter. His reply to Dr.
+McCrie is marked by excellent temper, humour, and good humor. The
+“Quarterly Review” ends with the well known reference to his brother
+Tom’s suspected authorship: “We intended here to conclude this long
+article, when a strong report reached us of certain transatlantic
+confessions, which, if genuine (though of this we know nothing), assign a
+different author to those volumes than the party suspected by our
+Scottish correspondents. Yet a critic may be excused for seizing upon the
+nearest suspected person, or the principle happily expressed by
+Claverhouse in a letter to the Earl of Linlithgow. He had been, it seems,
+in search of a gifted weaver who used to hold forth at conventicles: ‘I
+sent for the webster, they brought in his brother for him: though he,
+maybe, cannot preach like his brother, I doubt not but he is as well
+principled as he, wherefore I thought it would be no great fault to give
+him the trouble to go to jail with the rest.’”
+
+Nobody who read this could doubt that Scott was, at least, “art and part”
+ in the review. His efforts to disguise himself as an Englishman, aided by
+a Scotch antiquary, are divertingly futile. He seized the chance of
+defending his earlier works from some criticisms on Scotch manners
+suggested by the ignorance of Gifford. Nor was it difficult to see that
+the author of the review was also the author of the novel. In later years
+Lady Louisa Stuart reminded Scott that “Old Mortality,” like the Iliad,
+had been ascribed by clever critics to several hands working together. On
+December 5, 1816, she wrote to him, “I found something you wot of upon my
+table; and as I dare not take it with me to a friend’s house, for fear of
+arousing curiosity”--she read it at once. She could not sleep afterwards,
+so much had she been excited. “Manse and Cuddie forced me to laugh out
+aloud, which one seldom does when alone.” Many of the Scotch words “were
+absolutely Hebrew” to her. She not unjustly objected to Claverhouse’s use
+of the word “sentimental” as an anachronism. Sentiment, like nerves, had
+not been invented in Claverhouse’s day.
+
+The pecuniary success of “Old Mortality” was less, perhaps, than might
+have been expected. The first edition was only of two thousand copies.
+Two editions of this number were sold in six weeks, and a third was
+printed. Constable’s gallant enterprise of ten thousand, in “Rob Roy,”
+ throws these figures into the shade.
+
+“Old Mortality” is the first of Scott’s works in which he invades history
+beyond the range of what may be called living oral tradition. In
+“Waverley,” and even in “Rob Roy,” he had the memories of Invernahyle, of
+Miss Nairne, of many persons of the last generation for his guides. In
+“Old Mortality” his fancy had to wander among the relics of another age,
+among the inscribed tombs of the Covenanters, which are common in the
+West Country, as in the churchyards of Balmaclellan and Dalry. There the
+dust of these enduring and courageous men, like that of Bessie Bell and
+Marion Gray in the ballad, “beiks forenenst the sun,” which shines on
+them from beyond the hills of their wanderings, while the brown waters of
+the Ken murmur at their feet.
+
+               Here now in peace sweet rest we take,
+               Once murdered for religion’s sake,
+
+says the epitaph on the flat table-stone, beneath the wind tormented
+trees of Iron Gray. Concerning these _Manes Presbyteriani_, “Guthrie’s
+and Giffan’s Passions” and the rest, Scott had a library of rare volumes
+full of prophecies, “remarkable Providences,” angelic ministrations,
+diabolical persecutions by The Accuser of the Brethren,--in fact, all
+that Covenanteers had written or that had been written about
+Covenanteers. “I’ll tickle ye off a Covenanter as readily as old Jack
+could do a young Prince; and a rare fellow he is, when brought forth in
+his true colours,” he says to Terry (November 12, 1816). He certainly was
+not an unprejudiced witness, some ten years earlier, when he wrote to
+Southey, “You can hardly conceive the perfidy, cruelty, and stupidity of
+these people, according to the accounts they have themselves preserved.
+But I admit I had many prejudices instilled into me, as my ancestor was a
+Killiecrankie man.” He used to tease Grahame of “The Sabbath,” “but never
+out of his good humour, by praising Dundee, and laughing at the
+Covenanters.” Even as a boy he had been familiar with that godly company
+in “the original edition of the lives of Cameron and others, by Patrick
+Walker.” The more curious parts of those biographies were excised by the
+care of later editors, but they may all be found now in the “Biographia
+Presbyteriana” (1827), published by True Jock, chief clerk to “Leein’
+Johnnie,” Mr. John Ballantyne. To this work the inquirer may turn, if he
+is anxious to see whether Scott’s colouring is correct. The true blue of
+the Covenant is not dulled in the “Biographia Presbyteriana.”
+
+With all these materials at his command, Scott was able almost to dwell
+in the age of the Covenant hence the extraordinary life and brilliance of
+this, his first essay in fiction dealing with a remote time and obsolete
+manners. His opening, though it may seem long and uninviting to modern
+readers, is interesting for the sympathetic sketch of the gentle
+consumptive dominie. If there was any class of men whom Sir Walter could
+not away with, it was the race of schoolmasters, “black cattle” whom he
+neither trusted nor respected. But he could make or invent exceptions, as
+in the uncomplaining and kindly usher of the verbose Cleishbotham. Once
+launched in his legend, with the shooting of the Popinjay, he never
+falters. The gallant, dauntless, overbearing Bothwell, the dour Burley,
+the handful of Preachers, representing every current of opinion in the
+Covenant, the awful figure of Habakkuk Mucklewrath, the charm of goodness
+in Bessie McLure, are all immortal, deathless as Shakspeare’s men and
+women. Indeed here, even more than elsewhere, we admire the life which
+Scott breathes into his minor characters, Halliday and Inglis, the
+troopers, the child who leads Morton to Burley’s retreat in the cave,
+that auld Laird Nippy, old Milnwood (a real “Laird Nippy” was a neighbour
+of Scott’s at Ashiestiel), Ailie Wilson, the kind, crabbed old
+housekeeper, generous in great things, though habitually niggardly in
+things small. Most of these are persons whom we might still meet in
+Scotland, as we might meet Cuddie Headrigg--the shrewd, the blithe, the
+faithful and humorous Cuddie. As to Miss Jenny Dennison, we can hardly
+forgive Scott for making that gayest of soubrettes hard and selfish in
+married life. He is too severe on the harmless and even beneficent race
+of coquettes, who brighten life so much, who so rapidly “draw up with the
+new pleugh lad,” and who do so very little harm when all is said. Jenny
+plays the part of a leal and brave lass in the siege of Tillietudlem,
+hunger and terror do not subdue her spirit; she is true, in spite of many
+temptations, to her Cuddie, and we decline to believe that she was untrue
+to his master and friend. Ikuse, no doubt, is a caricature, though Wodrow
+makes us acquainted with at least one Mause, Jean Biggart, who “all the
+winter over was exceedingly straitened in wrestling and prayer as to the
+Parliament, and said that still that place was brought before her, Our
+hedges are broken down!” (“Analecta,” ii. 173.) Surely even Dr. McCrie
+must have laughed out loud, like Lady Louisa Stuart, when Mause exclaims:
+“Neither will I peace for the bidding of no earthly potsherd, though it
+be painted as red as a brick from the tower o’ Babel, and ca’ itsel’ a
+corporal.” Manse, as we have said, is not more comic than heroic, a
+mother in that Sparta of the Covenant. The figure of Morton, as usual, is
+not very attractive. In his review, Scott explains the weakness of his
+heroes as usually strangers in the land (Waverley, Lovel, Mannering,
+Osbaldistone), who need to have everything explained to them, and who are
+less required to move than to be the pivots of the general movement. But
+Morton is no stranger in the land. His political position in the juste
+milieu is unexciting. A schoolboy wrote to Scott at this time, “Oh, Sir
+Walter, how could you take the lady from the gallant Cavalier, and give
+her to the crop-eared Covenanter?” Probably Scott sympathised with his
+young critic, who longed “to be a feudal chief, and to see his retainers
+happy around him.” But Edith Bellenden loved Morton, with that love
+which, as she said, and thought, “disturbs the repose of the dead.” Scott
+had no choice. Besides, Dr. McCrie might have disapproved of so fortunate
+an arrangement. The heroine herself does not live in the memory like Di
+Vernon; she does not even live like Jenny Dennison. We remember Corporal
+Raddlebanes better, the stoutest fighting man of Major Bellenden’s
+acquaintance; and the lady of Tillietudlem has admirers more numerous and
+more constant. The lovers of the tale chiefly engage our interest by the
+rare constancy of their affections.
+
+The most disputed character is, of course, that of Claverhouse. There is
+no doubt that, if Claverhouse had been a man of the ordinary mould, he
+would never have reckoned so many enthusiastic friends in future ages.
+But Beauty, which makes Helen immortal, had put its seal on Bonny Dundee.
+With that face “which limners might have loved to paint, and ladies to
+look upon,” he still conquers hearts from his dark corner above the
+private staircase in Sir Walter’s deserted study. He was brave, he was
+loyal when all the world forsook his master; in that reckless age of
+revelry he looks on with the austere and noble contempt which he wears in
+Hell among the tippling shades of Cavaliers. He died in the arms of
+victory, but he lives among
+
+                         The chiefs of ancient names
+     Who swore to fight and die beneath the banner of King James,
+     And he fell in Killiecrankie Pass, the glory of the Grahames.
+
+Sentiment in romance, not in history, may be excused for pardoning the
+rest.
+
+Critics of the time, as Lady Louisa Stuart reminds Sir Walter, did not
+believe the book was his, because it lacked his “tedious descriptions.”
+ The descriptions, as of the waterfall where Burley had his den, are
+indeed far from “tedious.” There is a tendency in Scott to exalt into
+mountains “his own grey hills,” the _bosses verdatres_ as Prosper Merimee
+called them, of the Border. But the horrors of such linns as that down
+which Hab Dab and Davie Dinn “dang the deil” are not exaggerated.
+
+“Old Mortality” was the last novel written by Scott before the malady
+which tormented his stoicism in 1817-1820. Every reader has his own
+favourite, but few will place this glorious tale lower than second in the
+list of his incomparable romances.
+
+ANDREW LANG.
+
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION TO THE TALES OF MY LANDLORD.
+
+As I may, without vanity, presume that the name and official description
+prefixed to this Proem will secure it, from the sedate and reflecting
+part of mankind, to whom only I would be understood to address myself,
+such attention as is due to the sedulous instructor of youth, and the
+careful performer of my Sabbath duties, I will forbear to hold up a
+candle to the daylight, or to point out to the judicious those
+recommendations of my labours which they must necessarily anticipate from
+the perusal of the title-page. Nevertheless, I am not unaware, that, as
+Envy always dogs Merit at the heels, there may be those who will whisper,
+that albeit my learning and good principles cannot (lauded be the
+heavens) be denied by any one, yet that my situation at Gandercleugh hath
+been more favourable to my acquisitions in learning than to the
+enlargement of my views of the ways and works of the present generation.
+To the which objection, if, peradventure, any such shall be started, my
+answer shall be threefold:
+
+First, Gandercleugh is, as it were, the central part--the navel (_si fas
+sit dicere_) of this our native realm of Scotland; so that men, from
+every corner thereof, when travelling on their concernments of business,
+either towards our metropolis of law, by which I mean Edinburgh, or
+towards our metropolis and mart of gain, whereby I insinuate Glasgow, are
+frequently led to make Gandercleugh their abiding stage and place of rest
+for the night. And it must be acknowledged by the most sceptical, that I,
+who have sat in the leathern armchair, on the left-hand side of the fire,
+in the common room of the Wallace Inn, winter and summer, for every
+evening in my life, during forty years bypast, (the Christian Sabbaths
+only excepted,) must have seen more of the manners and customs of various
+tribes and people, than if I had sought them out by my own painful travel
+and bodily labour. Even so doth the tollman at the well-frequented
+turnpike on the Wellbrae-head, sitting at his ease in his own dwelling,
+gather more receipt of custom, than if, moving forth upon the road, he
+were to require a contribution from each person whom he chanced to meet
+in his journey, when, according to the vulgar adage, he might possibly be
+greeted with more kicks than halfpence.
+
+But, secondly, supposing it again urged, that Ithacus, the most wise of
+the Greeks, acquired his renown, as the Roman poet hath assured us, by
+visiting states and men, I reply to the Zoilus who shall adhere to this
+objection,  that, _de facto_, I have seen states and men also; for I have
+visited the famous cities of Edinburgh and Glasgow, the former twice, and
+the latter three times, in the course of my earthly pilgrimage. And,
+moreover, I had the honour to sit in the General Assembly (meaning, as an
+auditor, in the galleries thereof,) and have heard as much goodly
+speaking on the law of patronage, as, with the fructification thereof in
+mine own understanding, hath made me be considered as an oracle upon that
+doctrine ever since my safe and happy return to Gandercleugh.
+
+Again,--and thirdly, If it be nevertheless pretended that my information
+and knowledge of mankind, however extensive, and however painfully
+acquired, by constant domestic enquiry, and by foreign travel, is,
+natheless, incompetent to the task of recording the pleasant narratives
+of my Landlord, I will let these critics know, to their own eternal shame
+and confusion, as well as to the abashment and discomfiture of all who
+shall rashly take up a song against me, that I am NOT the writer,
+redacter, or compiler, of the “Tales of my Landlord;” nor am I, in one
+single iota, answerable for their contents, more or less. And now, ye
+generation of critics, who raise yourselves up as if it were brazen
+serpents, to hiss with your tongues, and to smite with your stings, bow
+yourselves down to your native dust, and acknowledge that yours have been
+the thoughts of ignorance, and the words of vain foolishness. Lo! ye are
+caught in your own snare, and your own pit hath yawned for you. Turn,
+then, aside from the task that is too heavy for you; destroy not your
+teeth by gnawing a file; waste not your strength by spurning against a
+castle wall; nor spend your breath in contending in swiftness with a
+fleet steed; and let those weigh the “Tales of my Landlord,” who shall
+bring with them the scales of candour cleansed from the rust of prejudice
+by the hands of intelligent modesty. For these alone they were compiled,
+as will appear from a brief narrative which my zeal for truth compelled
+me to make supplementary to the present Proem.
+
+It is well known that my Landlord was a pleasing and a facetious man,
+acceptable unto all the parish of Gandercleugh, excepting only the Laird,
+the Exciseman, and those for whom he refused to draw liquor upon trust.
+Their causes of dislike I will touch separately, adding my own refutation
+thereof.
+
+His honour, the Laird, accused our Landlord, deceased, of having
+encouraged, in various times and places, the destruction of hares,
+rabbits, fowls black and grey, partridges, moor-pouts, roe-deer, and
+other birds and quadrupeds, at unlawful seasons, and contrary to the laws
+of this realm, which have secured, in their wisdom, the slaughter of such
+animals for the great of the earth, whom I have remarked to take an
+uncommon (though to me, an unintelligible) pleasure therein. Now, in
+humble deference to his honour, and in justifiable defence of my friend
+deceased, I reply to this charge, that howsoever the form of such animals
+might appear to be similar to those so protected by the law, yet it was a
+mere _deceptio visus_; for what resembled hares were, in fact, hill-kids,
+and those partaking of the appearance of moor-fowl, were truly wood
+pigeons, and consumed and eaten _eo nomine_, and not otherwise.
+Again, the Exciseman pretended, that my deceased Landlord did encourage
+that species of manufacture called distillation, without having an
+especial permission from the Great, technically called a license, for
+doing so. Now, I stand up to confront this falsehood; and in defiance of
+him, his gauging-stick, and pen and inkhorn, I tell him, that I never
+saw, or tasted, a glass of unlawful aqua vitae in the house of my
+Landlord; nay, that, on the contrary, we needed not such devices, in
+respect of a pleasing and somewhat seductive liquor, which was vended and
+consumed at the Wallace Inn, under the name of mountain dew. If there is
+a penalty against manufacturing such a liquor, let him show me the
+statute; and when he does, I’ll tell him if I will obey it or no.
+Concerning those who came to my Landlord for liquor, and went thirsty
+away, for lack of present coin, or future credit, I cannot but say it has
+grieved my bowels as if the case had been mine own. Nevertheless, my
+Landlord considered the necessities of a thirsty soul, and would permit
+them, in extreme need, and when their soul was impoverished for lack of
+moisture, to drink to the full value of their watches and wearing
+apparel, exclusively of their inferior habiliments, which he was
+uniformly inexorable in obliging them to retain, for the credit of the
+house. As to mine own part, I may well say, that he never refused me that
+modicum of refreshment with which I am wont to recruit nature after the
+fatigues of my school. It is true, I taught his five sons English and
+Latin, writing, book-keeping, with a tincture of mathematics, and that I
+instructed his daughter in psalmody. Nor do I remember me of any fee or
+honorarium received from him on account of these my labours, except the
+compotations aforesaid. Nevertheless this compensation suited my humour
+well, since it is a hard sentence to bid a dry throat wait till
+quarter-day.
+
+But, truly, were I to speak my simple conceit and belief, I think my
+Landlord was chiefly moved to waive in my behalf the usual requisition of
+a symbol, or reckoning, from the pleasure he was wont to take in my
+conversation, which, though solid and edifying in the main, was, like a
+well-built palace, decorated with facetious narratives and devices,
+tending much to the enhancement and ornament thereof. And so pleased was
+my Landlord of the Wallace in his replies during such colloquies, that
+there was no district in Scotland, yea, and no peculiar, and, as it were,
+distinctive custom therein practised, but was discussed betwixt us;
+insomuch, that those who stood by were wont to say, it was worth a bottle
+of ale to hear us communicate with each other. And not a few travellers,
+from distant parts, as well as from the remote districts of our kingdom,
+were wont to mingle in the conversation, and to tell news that had been
+gathered in foreign lands, or preserved from oblivion in this our own.
+Now I chanced to have contracted for teaching the lower classes with a
+young person called Peter, or Patrick, Pattieson, who had been educated
+for our Holy Kirk, yea, had, by the license of presbytery, his voice
+opened therein as a preacher, who delighted in the collection of olden
+tales and legends, and in garnishing them with the flowers of poesy,
+whereof he was a vain and frivolous professor. For he followed not the
+example of those strong poets whom I proposed to him as a pattern, but
+formed versification of a flimsy and modern texture, to the compounding
+whereof was necessary small pains and less thought. And hence I have chid
+him as being one of those who bring forward the fatal revolution
+prophesied by Mr. Robert Carey, in his Vaticination on the Death of the
+celebrated Dr. John Donne:
+
+          Now thou art gone, and thy strict laws will be
+          Too hard for libertines in poetry;
+          Till verse (by thee refined) in this last age
+          Turn ballad rhyme.
+
+I had also disputations with him touching his indulging rather a flowing
+and redundant than a concise and stately diction in his prose
+exercitations. But notwithstanding these symptoms of inferior taste, and
+a humour of contradicting his betters upon passages of dubious
+construction in Latin authors, I did grievously lament when Peter
+Pattieson was removed from me by death, even as if he had been the
+offspring of my own loins. And in respect his papers had been left in my
+care, (to answer funeral and death-bed expenses,) I conceived myself
+entitled to dispose of one parcel thereof, entitled, “Tales of my
+Landlord,” to one cunning in the trade (as it is called) of book
+selling. He was a mirthful man, of small stature, cunning in
+counterfeiting of voices, and in making facetious tales and responses,
+and whom I have to laud for the truth of his dealings towards me.
+Now, therefore, the world may see the injustice that charges me with
+incapacity to write these narratives, seeing, that though I have proved
+that I could have written them if I would, yet, not having done so, the
+censure will deservedly fall, if at all due, upon the memory of Mr. Peter
+Pattieson; whereas I must be justly entitled to the praise, when any is
+due, seeing that, as the Dean of St. Patrick’s wittily and logically
+expresseth it,
+
+               That without which a thing is not,
+               Is Causa sine qua non.
+
+The work, therefore, is unto me as a child is to a parent; in the which
+child, if it proveth worthy, the parent hath honour and praise; but, if
+otherwise, the disgrace will deservedly attach to itself alone.
+
+I have only further to intimate, that Mr. Peter Pattieson, in arranging
+these Tales for the press, hath more consulted his own fancy than the
+accuracy of the narrative; nay, that he hath sometimes blended two or
+three stories together for the mere grace of his plots. Of which
+infidelity, although I disapprove and enter my testimony against it, yet
+I have not taken upon me to correct the same, in respect it was the will
+of the deceased, that his manuscript should be submitted to the press
+without diminution or alteration. A fanciful nicety it was on the part of
+my deceased friend, who, if thinking wisely, ought rather to have
+conjured me, by all the tender ties of our friendship and common
+pursuits, to have carefully revised, altered, and augmented, at my
+judgment and discretion. But the will of the dead must be scrupulously
+obeyed, even when we weep over their pertinacity and self-delusion. So,
+gentle reader, I bid you farewell, recommending you to such fare as the
+mountains of your own country produce; and I will only farther premise,
+that each Tale is preceded by a short introduction, mentioning the
+persons by whom, and the circumstances under which, the materials thereof
+were collected.
+                                   JEDEDIAH CLEISHBOTHAM.
+
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION TO OLD MORTALITY.
+
+The remarkable person, called by the title of Old Mortality, was we’ll
+known in Scotland about the end of the last century. His real name was
+Robert Paterson. He was a native, it is said, of the parish of Closeburn,
+in Dumfries-shire, and probably a mason by profession--at least educated
+to the use of the chisel. Whether family dissensions, or the deep and
+enthusiastic feeling of supposed duty, drove him to leave his dwelling,
+and adopt the singular mode of life in which he wandered, like a palmer,
+through Scotland, is not known. It could not be poverty, however, which
+prompted his journeys, for he never accepted anything beyond the
+hospitality which was willingly rendered him, and when that was not
+proffered, he always had money enough to provide for his own humble
+wants. His personal appearance, and favourite, or rather sole occupation,
+are accurately described in the preliminary chapter of the following
+work.
+
+It is about thirty years since, or more, that the author met this
+singular person in the churchyard of Dunnottar, when spending a day or
+two with the late learned and excellent clergyman, Mr. Walker, the
+minister of that parish, for the purpose of a close examination of the
+ruins of the Castle of Dunnottar, and other subjects of antiquarian
+research in that neighbourhood. Old Mortality chanced to be at the same
+place, on the usual business of his pilgrimage; for the Castle of
+Dunnottar, though lying in the anti-covenanting district of the Mearns,
+was, with the parish churchyard, celebrated for the oppressions sustained
+there by the Cameronians in the time of James II.
+
+It was in 1685, when Argyle was threatening a descent upon Scotland, and
+Monmouth was preparing to invade the west of England, that the Privy
+Council of Scotland, with cruel precaution, made a general arrest of more
+than a hundred persons in the southern and western provinces, supposed,
+from their religious principles, to be inimical to Government, together
+with many women and children. These captives were driven northward like a
+flock of bullocks, but with less precaution to provide for their wants,
+and finally penned up in a subterranean dungeon in the Castle of
+Dunnottar, having a window opening to the front of a precipice which
+overhangs the German Ocean. They had suffered not a little on the
+journey, and were much hurt both at the scoffs of the northern
+prelatists, and the mocks, gibes, and contemptuous tunes played by the
+fiddlers and pipers who had come from every quarter as they passed, to
+triumph over the revilers of their calling. The repose which the
+melancholy dungeon afforded them, was anything but undisturbed. The
+guards made them pay for every indulgence, even that of water; and when
+some of the prisoners resisted a demand so unreasonable, and insisted on
+their right to have this necessary of life untaxed, their keepers emptied
+the water on the prison floor, saying, “If they were obliged to bring
+water for the canting whigs, they were not bound to afford them the use
+of bowls or pitchers gratis.”
+
+In this prison, which is still termed the Whig’s Vault, several died of
+the diseases incidental to such a situation; and others broke their
+limbs, and incurred fatal injury, in desperate attempts to escape from
+their stern prison-house. Over the graves of these unhappy persons, their
+friends, after the Revolution, erected a monument with a suitable
+inscription.
+
+This peculiar shrine of the Whig martyrs is very much honoured by their
+descendants, though residing at a great distance from the land of their
+captivity and death. My friend, the Rev. Mr. Walker, told me, that being
+once upon a tour in the south of Scotland, probably about forty years
+since, he had the bad luck to involve himself in the labyrinth of
+passages and tracks which cross, in every direction, the extensive waste
+called Lochar Moss, near Dumfries, out of which it is scarcely possible
+for a stranger to extricate himself; and there was no small difficulty in
+procuring a guide, since such people as he saw were engaged in digging
+their peats--a work of paramount necessity, which will hardly brook
+interruption. Mr. Walker could, therefore, only procure unintelligible
+directions in the southern brogue, which differs widely from that of the
+Mearns. He was beginning to think himself in a serious dilemma, when he
+stated his case to a farmer of rather the better class, who was employed,
+as the others, in digging his winter fuel. The old man at first made the
+same excuse with those who had already declined acting as the traveller’s
+guide; but perceiving him in great perplexity, and paying the respect due
+to his profession, “You are a clergyman, sir?” he said. Mr. Walker
+assented. “And I observe from your speech, that you are from the
+north?”--“You are right, my good friend,” was the reply. “And may I ask
+if you have ever heard of a place called Dunnottar?”--“I ought to know
+something about it, my friend,” said Mr. Walker, “since I have been
+several years the minister of the parish.”--“I am glad to hear it,” said
+the Dumfriesian, “for one of my near relations lies buried there, and
+there is, I believe, a monument over his grave. I would give half of what
+I am aught, to know if it is still in existence.”--“He was one of those
+who perished in the Whig’s Vault at the castle?” said the minister; “for
+there are few southlanders besides lying in our churchyard, and none, I
+think, having monuments.”--“Even sae--even sae,” said the old Cameronian,
+for such was the farmer. He then laid down his spade, cast on his coat,
+and heartily offered to see the minister out of the moss, if he should
+lose the rest of the _day’s dargue_. Mr. Walker was able to requite him
+amply, in his opinion, by reciting the epitaph, which he remembered by
+heart. The old man was enchanted with finding the memory of his
+grandfather or great-grandfather faithfully recorded amongst the names of
+brother sufferers; and rejecting all other offers of recompense, only
+requested, after he had guided Mr. Walker to a safe and dry road, that he
+would let him have a written copy of the inscription.
+
+It was whilst I was listening to this story, and looking at the monument
+referred to, that I saw Old Mortality engaged in his daily task of
+cleaning and repairing the ornaments and epitaphs upon the tomb. His
+appearance and equipment were exactly as described in the Novel. I was
+very desirous to see something of a person so singular, and expected to
+have done so, as he took up his quarters with the hospitable and
+liberal-spirited minister. But though Mr. Walker invited him up after
+dinner to partake of a glass of spirits and water, to which he was
+supposed not to be very averse, yet he would not speak frankly upon the
+subject of his occupation. He was in bad humour, and had, according to
+his phrase, no freedom for conversation with us.
+
+His spirit had been sorely vexed by hearing, in a certain Aberdonian
+kirk, the psalmody directed by a pitch-pipe, or some similar instrument,
+which was to Old Mortality the abomination of abominations. Perhaps,
+after all, he did not feel himself at ease with his company; he might
+suspect the questions asked by a north-country minister and a young
+barrister to savour more of idle curiosity than profit. At any rate, in
+the phrase of John Bunyan, Old Mortality went on his way, and I saw him
+no more.
+
+The remarkable figure and occupation of this ancient pilgrim was recalled
+to my memory by an account transmitted by my friend Mr. Joseph Train,
+supervisor of excise at Dumfries, to whom I owe many obligations of a
+similar nature. From this, besides some other circumstances, among which
+are those of the old man’s death, I learned the particulars described in
+the text. I am also informed, that the old palmer’s family, in the third
+generation, survives, and is highly respected both for talents and worth.
+While these sheets were passing through the press, I received the
+following communication from Mr. Train, whose undeviating kindness had,
+during the intervals of laborious duty, collected its materials from an
+indubitable source.
+
+     “In the course of my periodical visits to the Glenkens, I have
+     become intimately acquainted with Robert Paterson, a son of Old
+     Mortality, who lives in the little village of Balmaclellan; and
+     although he is now in the 70th year of his age, preserves all the
+     vivacity of youth--has a most retentive memory, and a mind stored
+     with information far above what could be expected from a person in
+     his station of life. To him I am indebted for the following
+     particulars relative to his father, and his descendants down to the
+     present time.
+
+     “Robert Paterson, alias Old Mortality, was the son of Walter
+     Paterson and Margaret Scott, who occupied the farm of Ilaggisha, in
+     the parish of Hawick, during nearly the first half of the eighteenth
+     century. Here Robert was born, in the memorable year 1715.
+
+     “Being the youngest son of a numerous family, he, at an early age,
+     went to serve with an elder brother, named Francis, who rented, from
+     Sir John Jardine of Applegarth, a small tract in Comcockle Moor,
+     near Lochmaben. During his residence there, he became acquainted
+     with Elizabeth Gray, daughter of Robert Gray, gardener to Sir John
+     Jardine, whom he afterwards married. His wife had been, for a
+     considerable time, a cook-maid to Sir Thomas Kirkpatrick of
+     Closeburn, who procured for her husband, from the Duke of
+     Queensberry, an advantageous lease of the freestone quarry of
+     Gatelowbrigg, in the parish of Morton. Here he built a house, and
+     had as much land as kept a horse and cow. My informant cannot say,
+     with certainty, the year in which his father took up his residence
+     at Gatelowbrigg, but he is sure it must have been only a short time
+     prior to the year 1746, as, during the memorable frost in 1740, he
+     says his mother still resided in the service of Sir Thomas
+     Kirkpatrick. When the Highlanders were returning from England on
+     their route to Glasgow, in the year 1745-6, they plundered Mr.
+     Paterson’s house at Gatelowbrigg, and carried him a prisoner as far
+     as Glenbuck, merely because he said to one of the straggling army,
+     that their retreat might have been easily foreseen, as the strong
+     arm of the Lord was evidently raised, not only against the bloody
+     and wicked house of Stewart, but against all who attempted to
+     support the abominable heresies of the Church of Rome. From this
+     circumstance it appears that Old Mortality had, even at that early
+     period of his life, imbibed the religious enthusiasm by which he
+     afterwards became so much distinguished.
+
+     “The religious sect called Hill-men, or Cameronians, was at that
+     time much noted for austerity and devotion, in imitation of Cameron,
+     their founder, of whose tenets Old Mortality became a most strenuous
+     supporter. He made frequent journeys into Galloway to attend their
+     conventicles, and occasionally carried with him gravestones from his
+     quarry at Gatelowbrigg, to keep in remembrance the righteous whose
+     dust had been gathered to their fathers. Old Mortality was not one
+     of those religious devotees, who, although one eye is seemingly
+     turned towards heaven, keep the other steadfastly fixed on some
+     sublunary object. As his enthusiasm increased, his journeys into
+     Galloway became more frequent; and he gradually neglected even the
+     common prudential duty of providing for his offspring. From about
+     the year 1758, he neglected wholly to return from Galloway to his
+     wife and five children at Gatelowbrigg, which induced her to send
+     her eldest son Walter, then only twelve years of age, to Galloway,
+     in search of his father. After traversing nearly the whole of that
+     extensive district, from the Nick of Benncorie to the Fell of
+     Barullion, he found him at last working on the Cameronian monuments,
+     in the old kirkyard of Kirkchrist, on the west side of the Dee,
+     opposite the town of Kirkcudbright. The little wanderer used all the
+     influence in his power to induce his father to return to his family;
+     but in vain. Mrs. Paterson sent even some of her female children
+     into Galloway in search of their father, for the same purpose of
+     persuading him to return home; but without any success. At last, in
+     the summer of 1768, she removed to the little upland village of
+     Balmaclellan, in the Glenkens of Galloway, where, upon the small
+     pittance derived from keeping a little school, she supported her
+     numerous family in a respectable manner.
+
+     “There is a small monumental stone in the farm of the Caldon, near
+     the House of the Hill, in Wigtonshire, which is highly venerated as
+     being the first erected, by Old Mortality, to the memory of several
+     persons who fell at that place in defence of their religious tenets
+     in the civil war, in the reign of Charles Second.
+
+     “From the Caldon, the labours of Old Mortality, in the course of
+     time, spread over nearly all the Lowlands of Scotland. There are few
+     churchyards in Ayrshire, Galloway, or Dumfries-shire, where the work
+     of his chisel is not yet to be seen. It is easily distinguished from
+     the work of any other artist by the primitive rudeness of the
+     emblems of death, and of the inscriptions which adorn the ill-formed
+     blocks of his erection. This task of repairing and erecting
+     gravestones, practised without fee or reward, was the only
+     ostensible employment of this singular person for upwards of forty
+     years. The door of every Cameronian’s house was indeed open to him
+     at all times when he chose to enter, and he was gladly received as
+     an inmate of the family; but he did not invariably accept of these
+     civilities, as may be seen by the following account of his frugal
+     expenses, found, amongst other little papers, (some of which I have
+     likewise in my possession,) in his pocket-book after his death.
+
+          Gatehouse of Fleet, 4th February, 1796.
+          ROBERT PATERBON debtor to MARGARET CHRYSTALE.
+          To drye Lodginge for seven weeks,....... 0  4  1
+          To Four Auchlet of Ait Meal,............ 0  3  4
+          To 6 Lippies of Potatoes................ 0  1  3
+          To Lent Money at the time of Mr. Reid’s
+               Sacrament,......................... 0  6  0
+          To 3 Chappins of Yell with Sandy the
+               Keelman,*.......................... 0  0  9
+
+                                                 L.0 15  5
+          Received in part,....................... 0 10  0
+          Unpaid,............................... L.0  5  5
+
+
+     *[“A well-known humourist, still alive, popularly called by the name
+     of Old Keelybags, who deals in the keel or chalk with which farmers
+     mark their flocks.”]
+
+“This statement shows the religious wanderer to have been very poor in
+his old age; but he was so more by choice than through necessity, as at
+the period here alluded to, his children were all comfortably situated,
+and were most anxious to keep their father at home, but no entreaty could
+induce him to alter his erratic way of life. He travelled from one
+churchyard to another, mounted on his old white pony, till the last day
+of his existence, and died, as you have described, at Bankhill, near
+Lockerby, on the 14th February, 1801, in the 86th year of his age. As
+soon as his body was found, intimation was sent to his sons at
+Balmaclellan; but from the great depth of the snow at that time, the
+letter communicating the particulars of his death was so long detained by
+the way, that the remains of the pilgrim were interred before any of his
+relations could arrive at Bankhill.
+
+“The following is an exact copy of the account of his funeral
+expenses,--the original of which I have in my possession:--
+
+          “Memorandum of the Funral Charges of Robert Paterson,
+          who dyed at Bankhill on the 14th day of February, 1801.
+          To a Coffon................... L.0 12  0
+          To Munting for do............... 0  2  8
+          To a Shirt for him.............. 0  5  6
+          To a pair of Cotten Stockings... 0  2  0
+          To Bread at the Founral......... 0  2  6
+          To Chise at ditto............... 0  3  0
+          To 1 pint Rume.................. 0  4  6
+          To I pint Whiskie............... 0  4  0
+          To a man going to Annam......... 0  2  0
+          To the grave diger.............. 0  1  0
+          To Linnen for a sheet to him.... 0  2  8
+                                         L.2  1 10
+          Taken off him when dead,.........1  7  6
+                                         L.0 14  4
+
+“The above account is authenticated by the son of the deceased.
+
+“My friend was prevented by indisposition from even going to Bankhill to
+attend the funeral of his father, which I regret very much, as he is not
+aware in what churchyard he was interred.
+
+“For the purpose of erecting a small monument to his memory, I have made
+every possible enquiry, wherever I thought there was the least chance of
+finding out where Old Mortality was laid; but I have done so in vain, as
+his death is not registered in the session-book of any of the
+neighbouring parishes. I am sorry to think, that in all probability, this
+singular person, who spent so many years of his lengthened existence in
+striving with his chisel and mallet to perpetuate the memory of many less
+deserving than himself, must remain even without a single stone to mark
+out the resting place of his mortal remains.
+
+“Old Mortality had three sons, Robert, Walter, and John; the former, as
+has been already mentioned, lives in the village of Balmaclellan, in
+comfortable circumstances, and is much respected by his neighbours.
+Walter died several years ago, leaving behind him a family now
+respectably situated in this point. John went to America in the year
+1776, and, after various turns of fortune, settled at Baltimore.”
+
+Old Nol himself is said to have loved an innocent jest. (See Captain
+Hodgson’s Memoirs.) Old Mortality somewhat resembled the Protector in
+this turn to festivity. Like Master Silence, he had been merry twice and
+once in his time; but even his jests were of a melancholy and sepulchral
+nature, and sometimes attended with inconvenience to himself, as will
+appear from the following anecdote:--
+
+The old man was at one time following his wonted occupation of repairing
+the tombs of the martyrs, in the churchyard of Girthon, and the sexton of
+the parish was plying his kindred task at no small distance. Some roguish
+urchins were sporting near them, and by their noisy gambols disturbing
+the old men in their serious occupation. The most petulant of the
+juvenile party were two or three boys, grandchildren of a person well
+known by the name of Cooper Climent. This artist enjoyed almost a
+monopoly in Girthon and the neighbouring parishes, for making and selling
+ladles, caups, bickers, bowls, spoons, cogues, and trenchers, formed of
+wood, for the use of the country people. It must be noticed, that
+notwithstanding the excellence of the Cooper’s vessels, they were apt,
+when new, to impart a reddish tinge to whatever liquor was put into them,
+a circumstance not uncommon in like cases.
+
+The grandchildren of this dealer in wooden work took it into their head
+to ask the sexton, what use he could possibly make of the numerous
+fragments of old coffins which were thrown up in opening new graves. “Do
+you not know,” said Old Mortality, “that he sells them to your
+grandfather, who makes them into spoons, trenchers, bickers, bowies, and
+so forth?” At this assertion, the youthful group broke up in great
+confusion and disgust, on reflecting how many meals they had eaten out of
+dishes which, by Old Mortality’s account, were only fit to be used at a
+banquet of witches or of ghoules. They carried the tidings home, when
+many a dinner was spoiled by the loathing which the intelligence
+imparted; for the account of the materials was supposed to explain the
+reddish tinge which, even in the days of the Cooper’s fame, had seemed
+somewhat suspicious. The ware of Cooper Climent was rejected in horror,
+much to the benefit of his rivals the muggers, who dealt in earthenware.
+The man of cutty-spoon and ladle saw his trade interrupted, and learned
+the reason, by his quondam customers coming upon him in wrath to return
+the goods which were composed of such unhallowed materials, and demand
+repayment of their money. In this disagreeable predicament, the forlorn
+artist cited Old Mortality into a court of justice, where he proved that
+the wood he used in his trade was that of the staves of old wine-pipes
+bought from smugglers, with whom the country then abounded, a
+circumstance which fully accounted for their imparting a colour to their
+contents. Old Mortality himself made the fullest declaration, that he had
+no other purpose in making the assertion, than to check the petulance of
+the children. But it is easier to take away a good name than to restore
+it. Cooper Climent’s business continued to languish, and he died in a
+state of poverty.
+
+
+[Illustration: Frontispiece]
+
+
+
+
+VOLUME I.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+Preliminary.
+
+                    Why seeks he with unwearied toil
+                    Through death’s dim walks to urge his way,
+                    Reclaim his long-asserted spoil,
+                    And lead oblivion into day?
+                                        Langhorne.
+
+“Most readers,” says the Manuscript of Mr Pattieson, “must have witnessed
+with delight the joyous burst which attends the dismissing of a
+village-school on a fine summer evening. The buoyant spirit of childhood,
+repressed with so much difficulty during the tedious hours of discipline,
+may then be seen to explode, as it were, in shout, and song, and frolic,
+as the little urchins join in groups on their play-ground, and arrange
+their matches of sport for the evening. But there is one individual who
+partakes of the relief afforded by the moment of dismission, whose
+feelings are not so obvious to the eye of the spectator, or so apt to
+receive his sympathy. I mean the teacher himself, who, stunned with the
+hum, and suffocated with the closeness of his school-room, has spent the
+whole day (himself against a host) in controlling petulance, exciting
+indifference to action, striving to enlighten stupidity, and labouring to
+soften obstinacy; and whose very powers of intellect have been confounded
+by hearing the same dull lesson repeated a hundred times by rote, and
+only varied by the various blunders of the reciters. Even the flowers of
+classic genius, with which his solitary fancy is most gratified, have
+been rendered degraded, in his imagination, by their connexion with
+tears, with errors, and with punishment; so that the Eclogues of Virgil
+and Odes of Horace are each inseparably allied in association with the
+sullen figure and monotonous recitation of some blubbering school-boy. If
+to these mental distresses are added a delicate frame of body, and a mind
+ambitious of some higher distinction than that of being the tyrant of
+childhood, the reader may have some slight conception of the relief which
+a solitary walk, in the cool of a fine summer evening, affords to the
+head which has ached, and the nerves which have been shattered, for so
+many hours, in plying the irksome task of public instruction.
+
+“To me these evening strolls have been the happiest hours of an unhappy
+life; and if any gentle reader shall hereafter find pleasure in perusing
+these lucubrations, I am not unwilling he should know, that the plan of
+them has been usually traced in those moments, when relief from toil and
+clamour, combined with the quiet scenery around me, has disposed my mind
+to the task of composition.
+
+“My chief haunt, in these hours of golden leisure, is the banks of the
+small stream, which, winding through a ‘lone vale of green bracken,’
+passes in front of the village school-house of Gandercleugh. For the
+first quarter of a mile, perhaps, I may be disturbed from my meditations,
+in order to return the scrape, or doffed bonnet, of such stragglers among
+my pupils as fish for trouts or minnows in the little brook, or seek
+rushes and wild-flowers by its margin. But, beyond the space I have
+mentioned, the juvenile anglers do not, after sunset, voluntarily extend
+their excursions. The cause is, that farther up the narrow valley, and in
+a recess which seems scooped out of the side of the steep heathy bank,
+there is a deserted burial-ground, which the little cowards are fearful
+of approaching in the twilight. To me, however, the place has an
+inexpressible charm. It has been long the favourite termination of my
+walks, and, if my kind patron forgets not his promise, will (and probably
+at no very distant day) be my final resting-place after my mortal
+pilgrimage. [Note: Note, by Mr Jedediah Cleishbotham.--That I kept my
+plight in this melancholy matter with my deceased and lamented friend,
+appeareth from a handsome headstone, erected at my proper charges in this
+spot, bearing the name and calling of Peter Pattieson, with the date of
+his nativity and sepulture; together also with a testimony of his merits,
+attested by myself, as his superior and patron.--J. C.]
+
+“It is a spot which possesses all the solemnity of feeling attached to a
+burial-ground, without exciting those of a more unpleasing description.
+Having been very little used for many years, the few hillocks which rise
+above the level plain are covered with the same short velvet turf. The
+monuments, of which there are not above seven or eight, are half sunk in
+the ground, and overgrown with moss. No newly-erected tomb disturbs the
+sober serenity of our reflections by reminding us of recent calamity, and
+no rank-springing grass forces upon our imagination the recollection,
+that it owes its dark luxuriance to the foul and festering remnants of
+mortality which ferment beneath. The daisy which sprinkles the sod, and
+the harebell which hangs over it, derive their pure nourishment from the
+dew of heaven, and their growth impresses us with no degrading or
+disgusting recollections. Death has indeed been here, and its traces are
+before us; but they are softened and deprived of their horror by our
+distance from the period when they have been first impressed. Those who
+sleep beneath are only connected with us by the reflection, that they
+have once been what we now are, and that, as their relics are now
+identified with their mother earth, ours shall, at some future period,
+undergo the same transformation.
+
+“Yet, although the moss has been collected on the most modern of these
+humble tombs during four generations of mankind, the memory of some of
+those who sleep beneath them is still held in reverent remembrance. It is
+true, that, upon the largest, and, to an antiquary, the most interesting
+monument of the group, which bears the effigies of a doughty knight in
+his hood of mail, with his shield hanging on his breast, the armorial
+bearings are defaced by time, and a few worn-out letters may be read at
+the pleasure of the decipherer, Dns. Johan--de Hamel,--or Johan--de
+Lamel--And it is also true, that of another tomb, richly sculptured with
+an ornamental cross, mitre, and pastoral staff, tradition can only aver,
+that a certain nameless bishop lies interred there. But upon other two
+stones which lie beside, may still be read in rude prose, and ruder
+rhyme, the history of those who sleep beneath them. They belong, we are
+assured by the epitaph, to the class of persecuted Presbyterians who
+afforded a melancholy subject for history in the times of Charles II. and
+his successor. [Note: James, Seventh King of Scotland of that name, and
+Second according to the numeration of the Kings of England.--J. C.] In
+returning from the battle of Pentland Hills, a party of the insurgents
+had been attacked in this glen by a small detachment of the King’s
+troops, and three or four either killed in the skirmish, or shot after
+being made prisoners, as rebels taken with arms in their hands. The
+peasantry continued to attach to the tombs of those victims of prelacy an
+honour which they do not render to more splendid mausoleums; and, when
+they point them out to their sons, and narrate the fate of the sufferers,
+usually conclude, by exhorting them to be ready, should times call for
+it, to resist to the death in the cause of civil and religious liberty,
+like their brave forefathers.
+
+“Although I am far from venerating the peculiar tenets asserted by those
+who call themselves the followers of those men, and whose intolerance and
+narrow-minded bigotry are at least as conspicuous as their devotional
+zeal, yet it is without depreciating the memory of those sufferers, many
+of whom united the independent sentiments of a Hampden with the suffering
+zeal of a Hooper or Latimer. On the other hand, it would be unjust to
+forget, that many even of those who had been most active in crushing what
+they conceived the rebellious and seditious spirit of those unhappy
+wanderers, displayed themselves, when called upon to suffer for their
+political and religious opinions, the same daring and devoted zeal,
+tinctured, in their case, with chivalrous loyalty, as in the former with
+republican enthusiasm. It has often been remarked of the Scottish
+character, that the stubbornness with which it is moulded shows most to
+advantage in adversity, when it seems akin to the native sycamore of
+their hills, which scorns to be biassed in its mode of growth even by the
+influence of the prevailing wind, but, shooting its branches with equal
+boldness in every direction, shows no weather-side to the storm, and may
+be broken, but can never be bended. It must be understood that I speak of
+my countrymen as they fall under my own observation. When in foreign
+countries, I have been informed that they are more docile. But it is time
+to return from this digression.
+
+“One summer evening, as in a stroll, such as I have described, I
+approached this deserted mansion of the dead, I was somewhat surprised to
+hear sounds distinct from those which usually soothe its solitude, the
+gentle chiding, namely, of the brook, and the sighing of the wind in the
+boughs of three gigantic ash-trees, which mark the cemetery. The clink of
+a hammer was, on this occasion, distinctly heard; and I entertained some
+alarm that a march-dike, long meditated by the two proprietors whose
+estates were divided by my favourite brook, was about to be drawn up the
+glen, in order to substitute its rectilinear deformity for the graceful
+winding of the natural boundary. [Note: I deem it fitting that the reader
+should be apprised that this limitary boundary between the conterminous
+heritable property of his honour the Laird of Gandercleugh, and his
+honour the Laird of Gusedub, was to have been in fashion an agger, or
+rather murus of uncemented granite, called by the vulgar a drystane dyke,
+surmounted, or coped, _cespite viridi_, i.e. with a sodturf. Truly their
+honours fell into discord concerning two roods of marshy ground, near the
+cove called the Bedral’s Beild; and the controversy, having some years
+bygone been removed from before the judges of the land, (with whom it
+abode long,) even unto the Great City of London and the Assembly of the
+Nobles therein, is, as I may say, adhuc in pendente.--J. C.] As I
+approached, I was agreeably undeceived. An old man was seated upon the
+monument of the slaughtered presbyterians, and busily employed in
+deepening, with his chisel, the letters of the inscription, which,
+announcing, in scriptural language, the promised blessings of futurity to
+be the lot of the slain, anathematized the murderers with corresponding
+violence. A blue bonnet of unusual dimensions covered the grey hairs of
+the pious workman. His dress was a large old-fashioned coat of the coarse
+cloth called hoddingrey, usually worn by the elder peasants, with
+waistcoat and breeches of the same; and the whole suit, though still in
+decent repair, had obviously seen a train of long service. Strong clouted
+shoes, studded with hobnails, and gramoches or leggins, made of thick
+black cloth, completed his equipment. Beside him, fed among the graves a
+pony, the companion of his journey, whose extreme whiteness, as well as
+its projecting bones and hollow eyes, indicated its antiquity. It was
+harnessed in the most simple manner, with a pair of branks, a hair
+tether, or halter, and a sunk, or cushion of straw, instead of bridle and
+saddle. A canvass pouch hung around the neck of the animal, for the
+purpose, probably, of containing the rider’s tools, and any thing else he
+might have occasion to carry with him. Although I had never seen the old
+man before, yet from the singularity of his employment, and the style of
+his equipage, I had no difficulty in recognising a religious itinerant
+whom I had often heard talked of, and who was known in various parts of
+Scotland by the title of Old Mortality.
+
+
+[Illustration: The Graveyard--006]
+
+
+“Where this man was born, or what was his real name, I have never been
+able to learn; nor are the motives which made him desert his home, and
+adopt the erratic mode of life which he pursued, known to me except very
+generally. According to the belief of most people, he was a native of
+either the county of Dumfries or Galloway, and lineally descended from
+some of those champions of the Covenant, whose deeds and sufferings were
+his favourite theme. He is said to have held, at one period of his life,
+a small moorland farm; but, whether from pecuniary losses, or domestic
+misfortune, he had long renounced that and every other gainful calling.
+In the language of Scripture, he left his house, his home, and his
+kindred, and wandered about until the day of his death, a period of
+nearly thirty years.
+
+“During this long pilgrimage, the pious enthusiast regulated his circuit
+so as annually to visit the graves of the unfortunate Covenanters, who
+suffered by the sword, or by the executioner, during the reigns of the
+two last monarchs of the Stewart line. These are most numerous in the
+western districts of Ayr, Galloway, and Dumfries; but they are also to be
+found in other parts of Scotland, wherever the fugitives had fought, or
+fallen, or suffered by military or civil execution. Their tombs are often
+apart from all human habitation, in the remote moors and wilds to which
+the wanderers had fled for concealment. But wherever they existed, Old
+Mortality was sure to visit them when his annual round brought them
+within his reach. In the most lonely recesses of the mountains, the
+moor-fowl shooter has been often surprised to find him busied in cleaning
+the moss from the grey stones, renewing with his chisel the half-defaced
+inscriptions, and repairing the emblems of death with which these simple
+monuments are usually adorned. Motives of the most sincere, though
+fanciful devotion, induced the old man to dedicate so many years of
+existence to perform this tribute to the memory of the deceased warriors
+of the church. He considered himself as fulfilling a sacred duty, while
+renewing to the eyes of posterity the decaying emblems of the zeal and
+sufferings of their forefathers, and thereby trimming, as it were, the
+beacon-light, which was to warn future generations to defend their
+religion even unto blood.
+
+“In all his wanderings, the old pilgrim never seemed to need, or was
+known to accept, pecuniary assistance. It is true, his wants were very
+few; for wherever he went, he found ready quarters in the house of some
+Cameronian of his own sect, or of some other religious person. The
+hospitality which was reverentially paid to him he always acknowledged,
+by repairing the gravestones (if there existed any) belonging to the
+family or ancestors of his host. As the wanderer was usually to be seen
+bent on this pious task within the precincts of some country churchyard,
+or reclined on the solitary tombstone among the heath, disturbing the
+plover and the black-cock with the clink of his chisel and mallet, with
+his old white pony grazing by his side, he acquired, from his converse
+among the dead, the popular appellation of Old Mortality.
+
+“The character of such a man could have in it little connexion even with
+innocent gaiety. Yet, among those of his own religious persuasion, he is
+reported to have been cheerful. The descendants of persecutors, or those
+whom he supposed guilty of entertaining similar tenets, and the scoffers
+at religion by whom he was sometimes assailed, he usually termed the
+generation of vipers. Conversing with others, he was grave and
+sententious, not without a cast of severity. But he is said never to have
+been observed to give way to violent passion, excepting upon one
+occasion, when a mischievous truant-boy defaced with a stone the nose of
+a cherub’s face, which the old man was engaged in retouching. I am in
+general a sparer of the rod, notwithstanding the maxim of Solomon, for
+which school-boys have little reason to thank his memory; but on this
+occasion I deemed it proper to show that I did not hate the child.--But I
+must return to the circumstances attending my first interview with this
+interesting enthusiast.
+
+“In accosting Old Mortality, I did not fail to pay respect to his years
+and his principles, beginning my address by a respectful apology for
+interrupting his labours. The old man intermitted the operation of the
+chisel, took off his spectacles and wiped them, then, replacing them on
+his nose, acknowledged my courtesy by a suitable return. Encouraged by
+his affability, I intruded upon him some questions concerning the
+sufferers on whose monument he was now employed. To talk of the exploits
+of the Covenanters was the delight, as to repair their monuments was the
+business, of his life. He was profuse in the communication of all the
+minute information which he had collected concerning them, their wars,
+and their wanderings. One would almost have supposed he must have been
+their contemporary, and have actually beheld the passages which he
+related, so much had he identified his feelings and opinions with theirs,
+and so much had his narratives the circumstantiality of an eye-witness.
+
+“‘We,’ he said, in a tone of exultation,--‘we are the only true whigs.
+Carnal men have assumed that triumphant appellation, following him whose
+kingdom is of this world. Which of them would sit six hours on a wet
+hill-side to hear a godly sermon? I trow an hour o’t wad staw them. They
+are ne’er a hair better than them that shamena to take upon themsells the
+persecuting name of bludethirsty tories. Self-seekers all of them,
+strivers after wealth, power, and worldly ambition, and forgetters alike
+of what has been dree’d and done by the mighty men who stood in the gap
+in the great day of wrath. Nae wonder they dread the accomplishment of
+what was spoken by the mouth of the worthy Mr Peden, (that precious
+servant of the Lord, none of whose words fell to the ground,) that the
+French monzies [Note: Probably monsieurs. It would seem that this was
+spoken during the apprehensions of invason from France.--Publishers.]
+sall rise as fast in the glens of Ayr, and the kenns of Galloway, as ever
+the Highlandmen did in 1677. And now they are gripping to the bow and to
+the spear, when they suld be mourning for a sinfu’ land and a broken
+covenant.’
+
+“Soothing the old man by letting his peculiar opinions pass without
+contradiction, and anxious to prolong conversation with so singular a
+character, I prevailed upon him to accept that hospitality, which Mr
+Cleishbotham is always willing to extend to those who need it. In our way
+to the schoolmaster’s house, we called at the Wallace Inn, where I was
+pretty certain I should find my patron about that hour of the evening.
+After a courteous interchange of civilities, Old Mortality was, with
+difficulty, prevailed upon to join his host in a single glass of liquor,
+and that on condition that he should be permitted to name the pledge,
+which he prefaced with a grace of about five minutes, and then, with
+bonnet doffed and eyes uplifted, drank to the memory of those heroes of
+the Kirk who had first uplifted her banner upon the mountains. As no
+persuasion could prevail on him to extend his conviviality to a second
+cup, my patron accompanied him home, and accommodated him in the
+Prophet’s Chamber, as it is his pleasure to call the closet which holds a
+spare bed, and which is frequently a place of retreat for the poor
+traveller. [Note: He might have added, and for the rich also; since, I
+laud my stars, the great of the earth have also taken harbourage in my
+poor domicile. And, during the service of my hand-maiden, Dorothy, who
+was buxom and comely of aspect, his Honour the Laird of Smackawa, in his
+peregrinations to and from the metropolis, was wont to prefer my
+Prophet’s Chamber even to the sanded chamber of dais in the Wallace Inn,
+and to bestow a mutchkin, as he would jocosely say, to obtain the freedom
+of the house, but, in reality, to assure himself of my company during the
+evening.--J. C.]
+
+“The next day I took leave of Old Mortality, who seemed affected by the
+unusual attention with which I had cultivated his acquaintance and
+listened to his conversation. After he had mounted, not without
+difficulty, the old white pony, he took me by the hand and said, ‘The
+blessing of our Master be with you, young man! My hours are like the ears
+of the latter harvest, and your days are yet in the spring; and yet you
+may be gathered into the garner of mortality before me, for the sickle of
+death cuts down the green as oft as the ripe, and there is a colour in
+your cheek, that, like the bud of the rose, serveth oft to hide the worm
+of corruption. Wherefore labour as one who knoweth not when his master
+calleth. And if it be my lot to return to this village after ye are gane
+hame to your ain place, these auld withered hands will frame a stane of
+memorial, that your name may not perish from among the people.’
+
+“I thanked Old Mortality for his kind intentions in my behalf, and heaved
+a sigh, not, I think, of regret so much as of resignation, to think of
+the chance that I might soon require his good offices. But though, in all
+human probability, he did not err in supposing that my span of life may
+be abridged in youth, he had over-estimated the period of his own
+pilgrimage on earth. It is now some years since he has been missed in all
+his usual haunts, while moss, lichen, and deer-hair, are fast covering
+those stones, to cleanse which had been the business of his life. About
+the beginning of this century he closed his mortal toils, being found on
+the highway near Lockerby, in Dumfries-shire, exhausted and just
+expiring. The old white pony, the companion of all his wanderings, was
+standing by the side of his dying master. There was found about his
+person a sum of money sufficient for his decent interment, which serves
+to show that his death was in no ways hastened by violence or by want.
+The common people still regard his memory with great respect; and many
+are of opinion, that the stones which he repaired will not again require
+the assistance of the chisel. They even assert, that on the tombs where
+the manner of the martyrs’ murder is recorded, their names have remained
+indelibly legible since the death of Old Mortality, while those of the
+persecutors, sculptured on the same monuments, have been entirely
+defaced. It is hardly necessary to say that this is a fond imagination,
+and that, since the time of the pious pilgrim, the monuments which were
+the objects of his care are hastening, like all earthly memorials, into
+ruin or decay.
+
+“My readers will of course understand, that in embodying into one
+compressed narrative many of the anecdotes which I had the advantage of
+deriving from Old Mortality, I have been far from adopting either his
+style, his opinions, or even his facts, so far as they appear to have
+been distorted by party prejudice. I have endeavoured to correct or
+verify them from the most authentic sources of tradition, afforded by the
+representatives of either party.
+
+“On the part of the Presbyterians, I have consulted such moorland farmers
+from the western districts, as, by the kindness of their landlords, or
+otherwise, have been able, during the late general change of property, to
+retain possession of the grazings on which their grandsires fed their
+flocks and herds. I must own, that of late days, I have found this a
+limited source of information. I have, therefore, called in the
+supplementary aid of those modest itinerants, whom the scrupulous
+civility of our ancestors denominated travelling merchants, but whom, of
+late, accommodating ourselves in this as in more material particulars, to
+the feelings and sentiments of our more wealthy neighbours, we have
+learned to call packmen or pedlars. To country weavers travelling in
+hopes to get rid of their winter web, but more especially to tailors,
+who, from their sedentary profession, and the necessity, in our country,
+of exercising it by temporary residence in the families by whom they are
+employed, may be considered as possessing a complete register of rural
+traditions, I have been indebted for many illustrations of the narratives
+of Old Mortality, much in the taste and spirit of the original.
+
+“I had more difficulty in finding materials for correcting the tone of
+partiality which evidently pervaded those stores of traditional learning,
+in order that I might be enabled to present an unbiassed picture of the
+manners of that unhappy period, and, at the same time, to do justice to
+the merits of both parties. But I have been enabled to qualify the
+narratives of Old Mortality and his Cameronian friends, by the reports of
+more than one descendant of ancient and honourable families, who,
+themselves decayed into the humble vale of life, yet look proudly back on
+the period when their ancestors fought and fell in behalf of the exiled
+house of Stewart. I may even boast right reverend authority on the same
+score; for more than one nonjuring bishop, whose authority and income
+were upon as apostolical a scale as the greatest abominator of Episcopacy
+could well desire, have deigned, while partaking of the humble cheer of
+the Wallace Inn, to furnish me with information corrective of the facts
+which I learned from others. There are also here and there a laird or
+two, who, though they shrug their shoulders, profess no great shame in
+their fathers having served in the persecuting squadrons of Earlshall and
+Claverhouse. From the gamekeepers of these gentlemen, an office the most
+apt of any other to become hereditary in such families, I have also
+contrived to collect much valuable information.
+
+“Upon the whole, I can hardly fear, that, at this time, in describing the
+operation which their opposite principles produced upon the good and bad
+men of both parties, I can be suspected of meaning insult or injustice to
+either. If recollection of former injuries, extra-loyalty, and contempt
+and hatred of their adversaries, produced rigour and tyranny in the one
+party, it will hardly be denied, on the other hand, that, if the zeal for
+God’s house did not eat up the conventiclers, it devoured at least, to
+imitate the phrase of Dryden, no small portion of their loyalty, sober
+sense, and good breeding. We may safely hope, that the souls of the brave
+and sincere on either side have long looked down with surprise and pity
+upon the ill-appreciated motives which caused their mutual hatred and
+hostility, while in this valley of darkness, blood, and tears. Peace to
+their memory! Let us think of them as the heroine of our only Scottish
+tragedy entreats her lord to think of her departed sire:--
+
+               ‘O rake not up the ashes of our fathers!
+               Implacable resentment was their crime,
+               And grievous has the expiation been.’”
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+               Summon an hundred horse, by break of day,
+               To wait our pleasure at the castle gates.
+                                                  Douglas.
+
+Under the reign of the last Stewarts, there was an anxious wish on the
+part of government to counteract, by every means in their power, the
+strict or puritanical spirit which had been the chief characteristic of
+the republican government, and to revive those feudal institutions which
+united the vassal to the liege lord, and both to the crown. Frequent
+musters and assemblies of the people, both for military exercise and for
+sports and pastimes, were appointed by authority. The interference, in
+the latter case, was impolitic, to say the least; for, as usual on such
+occasions, the consciences which were at first only scrupulous, became
+confirmed in their opinions, instead of giving way to the terrors of
+authority; and the youth of both sexes, to whom the pipe and tabor in
+England, or the bagpipe in Scotland, would have been in themselves an
+irresistible temptation, were enabled to set them at defiance, from the
+proud consciousness that they were, at the same time, resisting an act of
+council. To compel men to dance and be merry by authority, has rarely
+succeeded even on board of slave-ships, where it was formerly sometimes
+attempted by way of inducing the wretched captives to agitate their limbs
+and restore the circulation, during the few minutes they were permitted
+to enjoy the fresh air upon deck. The rigour of the strict Calvinists
+increased, in proportion to the wishes of the government that it should
+be relaxed. A judaical observance of the Sabbath--a supercilious
+condemnation of all manly pastimes and harmless recreations, as well as
+of the profane custom of promiscuous dancing, that is, of men and women
+dancing together in the same party (for I believe they admitted that
+the exercise might be inoffensive if practised by the parties
+separately)--distinguishing those who professed a more than ordinary
+share of sanctity, they discouraged, as far as lay in their power, even
+the ancient wappen-schaws, as they were termed, when the feudal array of
+the county was called out, and each crown-vassal was required to appear
+with such muster of men and armour as he was bound to make by his fief,
+and that under high statutory penalties. The Covenanters were the more
+jealous of those assemblies, as the lord lieutenants and sheriffs under
+whom they were held had instructions from the government to spare no
+pains which might render them agreeable to the young men who were thus
+summoned together, upon whom the military exercise of the morning, and
+the sports which usually closed the evening, might naturally be supposed
+to have a seductive effect.
+
+The preachers and proselytes of the more rigid presbyterians laboured,
+therefore, by caution, remonstrance, and authority, to diminish the
+attendance upon these summonses, conscious that in doing so, they
+lessened not only the apparent, but the actual strength of the
+government, by impeding the extension of that esprit de corps which soon
+unites young men who are in the habit of meeting together for manly
+sport, or military exercise. They, therefore, exerted themselves
+earnestly to prevent attendance on these occasions by those who could
+find any possible excuse for absence, and were especially severe upon
+such of their hearers as mere curiosity led to be spectators, or love of
+exercise to be partakers, of the array and the sports which took place.
+Such of the gentry as acceded to these doctrines were not always,
+however, in a situation to be ruled by them. The commands of the law were
+imperative; and the privy council, who administered the executive power
+in Scotland, were severe in enforcing the statutory penalties against the
+crown-vassals who did not appear at the periodical wappen-schaw. The
+landholders were compelled, therefore, to send their sons, tenants, and
+vassals to the rendezvous, to the number of horses, men, and spears, at
+which they were rated; and it frequently happened, that notwithstanding
+the strict charge of their elders, to return as soon as the formal
+inspection was over, the young men-at-arms were unable to resist the
+temptation of sharing in the sports which succeeded the muster, or to
+avoid listening to the prayers read in the churches on these occasions,
+and thus, in the opinion of their repining parents, meddling with the
+accursed thing which is an abomination in the sight of the Lord.
+
+The sheriff of the county of Lanark was holding the wappen-schaw of a
+wild district, called the Upper Ward of Clydesdale, on a haugh or level
+plain, near to a royal borough, the name of which is no way essential to
+my story, on the morning of the 5th of May, 1679, when our narrative
+commences. When the musters had been made, and duly reported, the young
+men, as was usual, were to mix in various sports, of which the chief was
+to shoot at the popinjay, an ancient game formerly practised with
+archery, but at this period with fire-arms.
+
+     [Note: Festival of the Popinjay. The Festival of the Popinjay is
+     still, I believe, practised at Maybole, in Ayrshire. The following
+     passage in the history of the Somerville family, suggested the
+     scenes in the text. The author of that curious manuscript thus
+     celebrates his father’s demeanour at such an assembly.
+
+     “Having now passed his infancie, in the tenth year of his age, he
+     was by his grandfather putt to the grammar school, ther being then
+     att the toune of Delserf a very able master that taught the grammar,
+     and fitted boyes for the colledge. Dureing his educating in this
+     place, they had then a custome every year to solemnize the first
+     Sunday of May with danceing about a May-pole, fyreing of pieces, and
+     all manner of ravelling then in use. Ther being at that tyme feu or
+     noe merchants in this pettie village, to furnish necessaries for the
+     schollars sports, this youth resolves to provide himself elsewhere,
+     so that he may appear with the bravest. In order to this, by break
+     of day he ryses and goes to Hamiltoune, and there bestowes all the
+     money that for a long tyme before he had gotten from his freinds, or
+     had otherwayes purchased, upon ribbones of diverse coloures, a new
+     hatt and gloves. But in nothing he bestowed his money more
+     liberallie than upon gunpowder, a great quantitie whereof he buyes
+     for his owne use, and to supplie the wantes of his comerades; thus
+     furnished with these commodities, but ane empty purse, he returnes
+     to Delserf by seven a clock, (haveing travelled that Sabbath morning
+     above eight myles,) puttes on his cloathes and new hatt, flying with
+     ribbones of all culloures; and in this equipage, with his little
+     phizie (fusee) upon his shoulder, he marches to the church yaird,
+     where the May-pole was sett up, and the solemnitie of that day was
+     to be kept. There first at the foot-ball he equalled any one that
+     played; but in handleing his piece, in chargeing and dischargeing,
+     he was so ready, and shott so near the marke, that he farre
+     surpassed all his fellow schollars, and became a teacher of that art
+     to them before the thretteenth year of his oune age. And really, I
+     have often admired his dexterity in this, both at the exercizeing of
+     his soulders, and when for recreatione. I have gone to the gunning
+     with him when I was but a stripeling myself; and albeit that
+     passetyme was the exercize I delighted most in, yet could I never
+     attaine to any perfectione comparable to him. This dayes sport being
+     over, he had the applause of all the spectatores, the kyndnesse of
+     his fellow-condisciples, and the favour of the whole inhabitants of
+     that little village.”]
+
+This was the figure of a bird, decked with party-coloured feathers, so as
+to resemble a popinjay or parrot. It was suspended to a pole, and served
+for a mark, at which the competitors discharged their fusees and
+carabines in rotation, at the distance of sixty or seventy paces. He
+whose ball brought down the mark, held the proud title of Captain of the
+Popinjay for the remainder of the day, and was usually escorted in
+triumph to the most reputable change-house in the neighbourhood, where
+the evening was closed with conviviality, conducted under his auspices,
+and, if he was able to sustain it, at his expense.
+
+It will, of course, be supposed, that the ladies of the country assembled
+to witness this gallant strife, those excepted who held the stricter
+tenets of puritanism, and would therefore have deemed it criminal to
+afford countenance to the profane gambols of the malignants. Landaus,
+barouches, or tilburies, there were none in those simple days. The lord
+lieutenant of the county (a personage of ducal rank) alone pretended to
+the magnificence of a wheel-carriage, a thing covered with tarnished
+gilding and sculpture, in shape like the vulgar picture of Noah’s ark,
+dragged by eight long-tailed Flanders mares, bearing eight insides and
+six outsides. The insides were their graces in person, two maids of
+honour, two children, a chaplain stuffed into a sort of lateral recess,
+formed by a projection at the door of the vehicle, and called, from its
+appearance, the boot, and an equerry to his Grace ensconced in the
+corresponding convenience on the opposite side. A coachman and three
+postilions, who wore short swords, and tie-wigs with three tails, had
+blunderbusses slung behind them, and pistols at their saddle-bow,
+conducted the equipage. On the foot-board, behind this moving
+mansion-house, stood, or rather hung, in triple file, six lacqueys in
+rich liveries, armed up to the teeth. The rest of the gentry, men and
+women, old and young, were on horseback followed by their servants; but
+the company, for the reasons already assigned, was rather select than
+numerous.
+
+Near to the enormous leathern vehicle which we have attempted to
+describe, vindicating her title to precedence over the untitled gentry of
+the country, might be seen the sober palfrey of Lady Margaret Bellenden,
+bearing the erect and primitive form of Lady Margaret herself, decked in
+those widow’s weeds which the good lady had never laid aside, since the
+execution of her husband for his adherence to Montrose.
+
+Her grand-daughter, and only earthly care, the fair-haired Edith, who was
+generally allowed to be the prettiest lass in the Upper Ward, appeared
+beside her aged relative like Spring placed close to Winter. Her black
+Spanish jennet, which she managed with much grace, her gay riding-dress,
+and laced side-saddle, had been anxiously prepared to set her forth to
+the best advantage. But the clustering profusion of ringlets, which,
+escaping from under her cap, were only confined by a green ribbon from
+wantoning over her shoulders; her cast of features, soft and feminine,
+yet not without a certain expression of playful archness, which redeemed
+their sweetness from the charge of insipidity, sometimes brought against
+blondes and blue-eyed beauties,--these attracted more admiration from the
+western youth than either the splendour of her equipments or the figure
+of her palfrey.
+
+The attendance of these distinguished ladies was rather inferior to their
+birth and fashion in those times, as it consisted only of two servants on
+horseback. The truth was, that the good old lady had been obliged to make
+all her domestic servants turn out to complete the quota which her barony
+ought to furnish for the muster, and in which she would not for the
+universe have been found deficient. The old steward, who, in steel cap
+and jack-boots, led forth her array, had, as he said, sweated blood and
+water in his efforts to overcome the scruples and evasions of the
+moorland farmers, who ought to have furnished men, horse, and harness, on
+these occasions. At last, their dispute came near to an open declaration
+of hostilities, the incensed episcopalian bestowing on the recusants the
+whole thunders of the commination, and receiving from them, in return,
+the denunciations of a Calvinistic excommunication. What was to be done?
+To punish the refractory tenants would have been easy enough. The privy
+council would readily have imposed fines, and sent a troop of horse to
+collect them. But this would have been calling the huntsman and hounds
+into the garden to kill the hare.
+
+“For,” said Harrison to himself, “the carles have little eneugh gear at
+ony rate, and if I call in the red-coats and take away what little they
+have, how is my worshipful lady to get her rents paid at Candlemas, which
+is but a difficult matter to bring round even in the best of times?”
+
+So he armed the fowler, and falconer, the footman, and the ploughman, at
+the home farm, with an old drunken cavaliering butler, who had served
+with the late Sir Richard under Montrose, and stunned the family nightly
+with his exploits at Kilsythe and Tippermoor, and who was the only man in
+the party that had the smallest zeal for the work in hand. In this
+manner, and by recruiting one or two latitudinarian poachers and
+black-fishers, Mr Harrison completed the quota of men which fell to the
+share of Lady Margaret Bellenden, as life-rentrix of the barony of
+Tillietudlem and others. But when the steward, on the morning of the
+eventful day, had mustered his _troupe dore_ before the iron gate of the
+tower, the mother of Cuddie Headrigg the ploughman appeared, loaded with
+the jackboots, buff coat, and other accoutrements which had been issued
+forth for the service of the day, and laid them before the steward;
+demurely assuring him, that “whether it were the colic, or a qualm of
+conscience, she couldna tak upon her to decide, but sure it was, Cuddie
+had been in sair straits a’ night, and she couldna say he was muckle
+better this morning. The finger of Heaven,” she said, “was in it, and her
+bairn should gang on nae sic errands.” Pains, penalties, and threats of
+dismission, were denounced in vain; the mother was obstinate, and Cuddie,
+who underwent a domiciliary visitation for the purpose of verifying his
+state of body, could, or would, answer only by deep groans. Mause, who
+had been an ancient domestic in the family, was a sort of favourite with
+Lady Margaret, and presumed accordingly. Lady Margaret had herself set
+forth, and her authority could not be appealed to. In this dilemma, the
+good genius of the old butler suggested an expedient.
+
+“He had seen mony a braw callant, far less than Guse Gibbie, fight brawly
+under Montrose. What for no tak Guse Gibbie?”
+
+This was a half-witted lad, of very small stature, who had a kind of
+charge of the poultry under the old henwife; for in a Scottish family of
+that day there was a wonderful substitution of labour. This urchin being
+sent for from the stubble-field, was hastily muffled in the buff coat,
+and girded rather to than with the sword of a full-grown man, his little
+legs plunged into jack-boots, and a steel cap put upon his head, which
+seemed, from its size, as if it had been intended to extinguish him. Thus
+accoutred, he was hoisted, at his own earnest request, upon the quietest
+horse of the party; and, prompted and supported by old Gudyill the
+butler, as his front file, he passed muster tolerably enough; the sheriff
+not caring to examine too closely the recruits of so well-affected a
+person as Lady Margaret Bellenden.
+
+To the above cause it was owing that the personal retinue of Lady
+Margaret, on this eventful day, amounted only to two lacqueys, with which
+diminished train she would, on any other occasion, have been much ashamed
+to appear in public. But, for the cause of royalty, she was ready at any
+time to have made the most unreserved personal sacrifices. She had lost
+her husband and two promising sons in the civil wars of that unhappy
+period; but she had received her reward, for, on his route through the
+west of Scotland to meet Cromwell in the unfortunate field of Worcester,
+Charles the Second had actually breakfasted at the Tower of Tillietudlem;
+an incident which formed, from that moment, an important era in the life
+of Lady Margaret, who seldom afterwards partook of that meal, either at
+home or abroad, without detailing the whole circumstances of the royal
+visit, not forgetting the salutation which his majesty conferred on each
+side of her face, though she sometimes omitted to notice that he bestowed
+the same favour on two buxom serving-wenches who appeared at her back,
+elevated for the day into the capacity of waiting gentlewomen.
+
+
+[Illustration: Tillietudlem Castle--128]
+
+
+These instances of royal favour were decisive; and if Lady Margaret had
+not been a confirmed royalist already, from sense of high birth,
+influence of education, and hatred to the opposite party, through whom
+she had suffered such domestic calamity, the having given a breakfast to
+majesty, and received the royal salute in return, were honours enough of
+themselves to unite her exclusively to the fortunes of the Stewarts.
+These were now, in all appearance, triumphant; but Lady Margaret’s zeal
+had adhered to them through the worst of times, and was ready to sustain
+the same severities of fortune should their scale once more kick the
+beam. At present she enjoyed, in full extent, the military display of the
+force which stood ready to support the crown, and stifled, as well as she
+could, the mortification she felt at the unworthy desertion of her own
+retainers.
+
+Many civilities passed between her ladyship and the representatives of
+sundry ancient loyal families who were upon the ground, by whom she was
+held in high reverence; and not a young man of rank passed by them in the
+course of the muster, but he carried his body more erect in the saddle,
+and threw his horse upon its haunches, to display his own horsemanship
+and the perfect bitting of his steed to the best advantage in the eyes of
+Miss Edith Bellenden. But the young cavaliers, distinguished by high
+descent and undoubted loyalty, attracted no more attention from Edith
+than the laws of courtesy peremptorily demanded; and she turned an
+indifferent ear to the compliments with which she was addressed, most of
+which were little the worse for the wear, though borrowed for the nonce
+from the laborious and long-winded romances of Calprenede and Scuderi,
+the mirrors in which the youth of that age delighted to dress themselves,
+ere Folly had thrown her ballast overboard, and cut down her vessels of
+the first-rate, such as the romances of Cyrus, Cleopatra, and others,
+into small craft, drawing as little water, or, to speak more plainly,
+consuming as little time as the little cockboat in which the gentle
+reader has deigned to embark. It was, however, the decree of fate that
+Miss Bellenden should not continue to evince the same equanimity till the
+conclusion of the day.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+               Horseman and horse confess’d the bitter pang,
+               And arms and warrior fell with heavy clang.
+                                             Pleasures of Hope.
+
+When the military evolutions had been gone through tolerably well,
+allowing for the awkwardness of men and of horses, a loud shout announced
+that the competitors were about to step forth for the game of the
+popinjay already described. The mast, or pole, having a yard extended
+across it, from which the mark was displayed, was raised amid the
+acclamations of the assembly; and even those who had eyed the evolutions
+of the feudal militia with a sort of malignant and sarcastic sneer, from
+disinclination to the royal cause in which they were professedly
+embodied, could not refrain from taking considerable interest in the
+strife which was now approaching. They crowded towards the goal, and
+criticized the appearance of each competitor, as they advanced in
+succession, discharged their pieces at the mark, and had their good or
+bad address rewarded by the laughter or applause of the spectators. But
+when a slender young man, dressed with great simplicity, yet not without
+a certain air of pretension to elegance and gentility, approached the
+station with his fusee in his hand, his dark-green cloak thrown back over
+his shoulder, his laced ruff and feathered cap indicating a superior rank
+to the vulgar, there was a murmur of interest among the spectators,
+whether altogether favourable to the young adventurer, it was difficult
+to discover.
+
+“Ewhow, sirs, to see his father’s son at the like o’ thae fearless
+follies!” was the ejaculation of the elder and more rigid puritans, whose
+curiosity had so far overcome their bigotry as to bring them to the
+play-ground. But the generality viewed the strife less morosely, and were
+contented to wish success to the son of a deceased presbyterian leader,
+without strictly examining the propriety of his being a competitor for
+the prize.
+
+Their wishes were gratified. At the first discharge of his piece the
+green adventurer struck the popinjay, being the first palpable hit of the
+day, though several balls had passed very near the mark. A loud shout of
+applause ensued. But the success was not decisive, it being necessary
+that each who followed should have his chance, and that those who
+succeeded in hitting the mark, should renew the strife among themselves,
+till one displayed a decided superiority over the others. Two only of
+those who followed in order succeeded in hitting the popinjay. The first
+was a young man of low rank, heavily built, and who kept his face muffled
+in his grey cloak; the second a gallant young cavalier, remarkable for a
+handsome exterior, sedulously decorated for the day. He had been since
+the muster in close attendance on Lady Margaret and Miss Bellenden, and
+had left them with an air of indifference, when Lady Margaret had asked
+whether there was no young man of family and loyal principles who would
+dispute the prize with the two lads who had been successful. In half a
+minute, young Lord Evandale threw himself from his horse, borrowed a gun
+from a servant, and, as we have already noticed, hit the mark. Great was
+the interest excited by the renewal of the contest between the three
+candidates who had been hitherto successful. The state equipage of the
+Duke was, with some difficulty, put in motion, and approached more near
+to the scene of action. The riders, both male and female, turned their
+horses’ heads in the same direction, and all eyes were bent upon the
+issue of the trial of skill.
+
+It was the etiquette in the second contest, that the competitors should
+take their turn of firing after drawing lots. The first fell upon the
+young plebeian, who, as he took his stand, half-uncloaked his rustic
+countenance, and said to the gallant in green, “Ye see, Mr Henry, if it
+were ony other day, I could hae wished to miss for your sake; but Jenny
+Dennison is looking at us, sae I maun do my best.”
+
+He took his aim, and his bullet whistled past the mark so nearly, that
+the pendulous object at which it was directed was seen to shiver. Still,
+however, he had not hit it, and, with a downcast look, he withdrew
+himself from further competition, and hastened to disappear from the
+assembly, as if fearful of being recognised. The green chasseur next
+advanced, and his ball a second time struck the popinjay. All shouted;
+and from the outskirts of the assembly arose a cry of, “The good old
+cause for ever!”
+
+While the dignitaries bent their brows at these exulting shouts of the
+disaffected, the young Lord Evandale advanced again to the hazard, and
+again was successful. The shouts and congratulations of the well-affected
+and aristocratical part of the audience attended his success, but still a
+subsequent trial of skill remained.
+
+The green marksman, as if determined to bring the affair to a decision,
+took his horse from a person who held him, having previously looked
+carefully to the security of his girths and the fitting of his saddle,
+vaulted on his back, and motioning with his hand for the bystanders to
+make way, set spurs, passed the place from which he was to fire at a
+gallop, and, as he passed, threw up the reins, turned sideways upon his
+saddle, discharged his carabine, and brought down the popinjay. Lord
+Evandale imitated his example, although many around him said it was an
+innovation on the established practice, which he was not obliged to
+follow. But his skill was not so perfect, or his horse was not so well
+trained. The animal swerved at the moment his master fired, and the ball
+missed the popinjay. Those who had been surprised by the address of the
+green marksman were now equally pleased by his courtesy. He disclaimed
+all merit from the last shot, and proposed to his antagonist that it
+should not be counted as a hit, and that they should renew the contest on
+foot.
+
+“I would prefer horseback, if I had a horse as well bitted, and,
+probably, as well broken to the exercise, as yours,” said the young Lord,
+addressing his antagonist.
+
+“Will you do me the honour to use him for the next trial, on condition
+you will lend me yours?” said the young gentleman.
+
+Lord Evandale was ashamed to accept this courtesy, as conscious how much
+it would diminish the value of victory; and yet, unable to suppress his
+wish to redeem his reputation as a marksman, he added, “that although he
+renounced all pretensions to the honour of the day,” (which he said
+some-what scornfully,) “yet, if the victor had no particular objection,
+he would willingly embrace his obliging offer, and change horses with
+him, for the purpose of trying a shot for love.”
+
+As he said so, he looked boldly towards Miss Bellenden, and tradition
+says, that the eyes of the young tirailleur travelled, though more
+covertly, in the same direction. The young Lord’s last trial was as
+unsuccessful as the former, and it was with difficulty that he preserved
+the tone of scornful indifference which he had hitherto assumed. But,
+conscious of the ridicule which attaches itself to the resentment of a
+losing party, he returned to his antagonist the horse on which he had
+made his last unsuccessful attempt, and received back his own; giving, at
+the same time, thanks to his competitor, who, he said, had re-established
+his favourite horse in his good opinion, for he had been in great danger
+of transferring to the poor nag the blame of an inferiority, which every
+one, as well as himself, must now be satisfied remained with the rider.
+Having made this speech in a tone in which mortification assumed the veil
+of indifference, he mounted his horse and rode off the ground.
+
+As is the usual way of the world, the applause and attention even of
+those whose wishes had favoured Lord Evandale, were, upon his decisive
+discomfiture, transferred to his triumphant rival.
+
+“Who is he? what is his name?” ran from mouth to mouth among the gentry
+who were present, to few of whom he was personally known. His style and
+title having soon transpired, and being within that class whom a great
+man might notice without derogation, four of the Duke’s friends, with the
+obedient start which poor Malvolio ascribes to his imaginary retinue,
+made out to lead the victor to his presence. As they conducted him in
+triumph through the crowd of spectators, and stunned him at the same time
+with their compliments on his success, he chanced to pass, or rather to
+be led, immediately in front of Lady Margaret and her grand-daughter. The
+Captain of the popinjay and Miss Bellenden coloured like crimson, as the
+latter returned, with embarrassed courtesy, the low inclination which the
+victor made, even to the saddle-bow, in passing her.
+
+“Do you know that young person?” said Lady Margaret.
+
+“I--I--have seen him, madam, at my uncle’s, and--and elsewhere
+occasionally,” stammered Miss Edith Bellenden.
+
+“I hear them say around me,” said Lady Margaret, “that the young spark is
+the nephew of old Milnwood.”
+
+“The son of the late Colonel Morton of Milnwood, who commanded a regiment
+of horse with great courage at Dunbar and Inverkeithing,” said a
+gentleman who sate on horseback beside Lady Margaret.
+
+“Ay, and who, before that, fought for the Covenanters both at
+Marston-Moor and Philiphaugh,” said Lady Margaret, sighing as she
+pronounced the last fatal words, which her husband’s death gave her such
+sad reason to remember.
+
+“Your ladyship’s memory is just,” said the gentleman, smiling, “but it
+were well all that were forgot now.”
+
+“He ought to remember it, Gilbertscleugh,” returned Lady Margaret, “and
+dispense with intruding himself into the company of those to whom his
+name must bring unpleasing recollections.”
+
+“You forget, my dear lady,” said her nomenclator, “that the young
+gentleman comes here to discharge suit and service in name of his uncle.
+I would every estate in the country sent out as pretty a fellow.”
+
+“His uncle, as well as his umquhile father, is a roundhead, I presume,”
+ said Lady Margaret.
+
+“He is an old miser,” said Gilbertscleugh, “with whom a broad piece would
+at any time weigh down political opinions, and, therefore, although
+probably somewhat against the grain, he sends the young gentleman to
+attend the muster to save pecuniary pains and penalties. As for the rest,
+I suppose the youngster is happy enough to escape here for a day from the
+dulness of the old house at Milnwood, where he sees nobody but his
+hypochondriac uncle and the favourite housekeeper.”
+
+“Do you know how many men and horse the lands of Milnwood are rated at?”
+ said the old lady, continuing her enquiry.
+
+“Two horsemen with complete harness,” answered Gilbertscleugh.
+
+“Our land,” said Lady Margaret, drawing herself up with dignity, “has
+always furnished to the muster eight men, cousin Gilbertscleugh, and
+often a voluntary aid of thrice the number. I remember his sacred Majesty
+King Charles, when he took his disjune at Tillietudlem, was particular in
+enquiring”--“I see the Duke’s carriage in motion,” said Gilbertscleugh,
+partaking at the moment an alarm common to all Lady Margaret’s friends,
+when she touched upon the topic of the royal visit at the family
+mansion,--“I see the Duke’s carriage in motion; I presume your ladyship
+will take your right of rank in leaving the field. May I be permitted to
+convoy your ladyship and Miss Bellenden home?--Parties of the wild whigs
+have been abroad, and are said to insult and disarm the well-affected who
+travel in small numbers.”
+
+“We thank you, cousin Gilbertscleugh,” said Lady Margaret; “but as we
+shall have the escort of my own people, I trust we have less need than
+others to be troublesome to our friends. Will you have the goodness to
+order Harrison to bring up our people somewhat more briskly; he rides
+them towards us as if he were leading a funeral procession.”
+
+The gentleman in attendance communicated his lady’s orders to the trusty
+steward.
+
+Honest Harrison had his own reasons for doubting the prudence of this
+command; but, once issued and received, there was a necessity for obeying
+it. He set off, therefore, at a hand-gallop, followed by the butler, in
+such a military attitude as became one who had served under Montrose, and
+with a look of defiance, rendered sterner and fiercer by the inspiring
+fumes of a gill of brandy, which he had snatched a moment to bolt to the
+king’s health, and confusion to the Covenant, during the intervals of
+military duty. Unhappily this potent refreshment wiped away from the
+tablets of his memory the necessity of paying some attention to the
+distresses and difficulties of his rear-file, Goose Gibbie. No sooner had
+the horses struck a canter, than Gibbie’s jack-boots, which the poor
+boy’s legs were incapable of steadying, began to play alternately against
+the horse’s flanks, and, being armed with long-rowelled spurs, overcame
+the patience of the animal, which bounced and plunged, while poor
+Gibbie’s entreaties for aid never reached the ears of the too heedless
+butler, being drowned partly in the concave of the steel cap in which his
+head was immersed, and partly in the martial tune of the Gallant Grames,
+which Mr Gudyill whistled with all his power of lungs.
+
+The upshot was, that the steed speedily took the matter into his own
+hands, and having gambolled hither and thither to the great amusement of
+all spectators, set off at full speed towards the huge family-coach
+already described. Gibbie’s pike, escaping from its sling, had fallen to
+a level direction across his hands, which, I grieve to say, were seeking
+dishonourable safety in as strong a grasp of the mane as their muscles
+could manage. His casque, too, had slipped completely over his face, so
+that he saw as little in front as he did in rear. Indeed, if he could, it
+would have availed him little in the circumstances; for his horse, as if
+in league with the disaffected, ran full tilt towards the solemn equipage
+of the Duke, which the projecting lance threatened to perforate from
+window to window, at the risk of transfixing as many in its passage as
+the celebrated thrust of Orlando, which, according to the Italian epic
+poet, broached as many Moors as a Frenchman spits frogs.
+
+On beholding the bent of this misdirected career, a panic shout of
+mingled terror and wrath was set up by the whole equipage, insides and
+outsides, at once, which had the happy effect of averting the threatened
+misfortune. The capricious horse of Goose Gibbie was terrified by the
+noise, and stumbling as he turned short round, kicked and plunged
+violently as soon as he recovered. The jack-boots, the original cause of
+the disaster, maintaining the reputation they had acquired when worn by
+better cavaliers, answered every plunge by a fresh prick of the spurs,
+and, by their ponderous weight, kept their place in the stirrups. Not so
+Goose Gibbie, who was fairly spurned out of those wide and ponderous
+greaves, and precipitated over the horse’s head, to the infinite
+amusement of all the spectators. His lance and helmet had forsaken him in
+his fall, and, for the completion of his disgrace, Lady Margaret
+Bellenden, not perfectly aware that it was one of her warriors who was
+furnishing so much entertainment, came up in time to see her diminutive
+man-at-arms stripped of his lion’s hide,--of the buff-coat, that is, in
+which he was muffled.
+
+As she had not been made acquainted with this metamorphosis, and could
+not even guess its cause, her surprise and resentment were extreme, nor
+were they much modified by the excuses and explanations of her steward
+and butler. She made a hasty retreat homeward, extremely indignant at the
+shouts and laughter of the company, and much disposed to vent her
+displeasure on the refractory agriculturist whose place Goose Gibbie had
+so unhappily supplied. The greater part of the gentry now dispersed, the
+whimsical misfortune which had befallen the gens d’armerie of
+Tillietudlem furnishing them with huge entertainment on their road
+homeward. The horsemen also, in little parties, as their road lay
+together, diverged from the place of rendezvous, excepting such as,
+having tried their dexterity at the popinjay, were, by ancient custom,
+obliged to partake of a grace-cup with their captain before their
+departure.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+          At fairs he play’d before the spearmen,
+          And gaily graithed in their gear then,
+          Steel bonnets, pikes, and swords shone clear then
+          As ony bead;  Now wha sall play before sic weir men,
+                    Since Habbie’s dead!
+                                        Elegy on Habbie Simpson.
+
+The cavalcade of horsemen on their road to the little borough-town were
+preceded by Niel Blane, the town-piper, mounted on his white galloway,
+armed with his dirk and broadsword, and bearing a chanter streaming with
+as many ribbons as would deck out six country belles for a fair or
+preaching. Niel, a clean, tight, well-timbered, long-winded fellow, had
+gained the official situation of town-piper of--by his merit, with all
+the emoluments thereof; namely, the Piper’s Croft, as it is still called,
+a field of about an acre in extent, five merks, and a new livery-coat of
+the town’s colours, yearly; some hopes of a dollar upon the day of the
+election of magistrates, providing the provost were able and willing to
+afford such a gratuity; and the privilege of paying, at all the
+respectable houses in the neighbourhood, an annual visit at spring-time,
+to rejoice their hearts with his music, to comfort his own with their ale
+and brandy, and to beg from each a modicum of seed-corn.
+
+In addition to these inestimable advantages, Niel’s personal, or
+professional, accomplishments won the heart of a jolly widow, who then
+kept the principal change-house in the borough. Her former husband having
+been a strict presbyterian, of such note that he usually went among his
+sect by the name of Gaius the publican, many of the more rigid were
+scandalized by the profession of the successor whom his relict had chosen
+for a second helpmate. As the browst (or brewing) of the Howff retained,
+nevertheless, its unrivalled reputation, most of the old customers
+continued to give it a preference. The character of the new landlord,
+indeed, was of that accommodating kind, which enabled him, by close
+attention to the helm, to keep his little vessel pretty steady amid the
+contending tides of faction. He was a good-humoured, shrewd, selfish sort
+of fellow, indifferent alike to the disputes about church and state, and
+only anxious to secure the good-will of customers of every description.
+But his character, as well as the state of the country, will be best
+understood by giving the reader an account of the instructions which he
+issued to his daughter, a girl about eighteen, whom he was initiating in
+those cares which had been faithfully discharged by his wife, until about
+six months before our story commences, when the honest woman had been
+carried to the kirkyard.
+
+“Jenny,” said Niel Blane, as the girl assisted to disencumber him of his
+bagpipes, “this is the first day that ye are to take the place of your
+worthy mother in attending to the public; a douce woman she was, civil to
+the customers, and had a good name wi’ Whig and Tory, baith up the street
+and down the street. It will be hard for you to fill her place,
+especially on sic a thrang day as this; but Heaven’s will maun be
+obeyed.--Jenny, whatever Milnwood ca’s for, be sure he maun hae’t, for
+he’s the Captain o’ the Popinjay, and auld customs maun be supported; if
+he canna pay the lawing himsell, as I ken he’s keepit unco short by the
+head, I’ll find a way to shame it out o’ his uncle.--The curate is
+playing at dice wi’ Cornet Grahame. Be eident and civil to them
+baith--clergy and captains can gie an unco deal o’ fash in thae times,
+where they take an ill-will.--The dragoons will be crying for ale, and
+they wunna want it, and maunna want it--they are unruly chields, but
+they pay ane some gate or other. I gat the humle-cow, that’s the best in
+the byre, frae black Frank Inglis and Sergeant Bothwell, for ten pund
+Scots, and they drank out the price at ae downsitting.”
+
+“But, father,” interrupted Jenny, “they say the twa reiving loons drave
+the cow frae the gudewife o’ Bell’s-moor, just because she gaed to hear a
+field-preaching ae Sabbath afternoon.”
+
+“Whisht! ye silly tawpie,” said her father, “we have naething to do how
+they come by the bestial they sell--be that atween them and their
+consciences.--Aweel--Take notice, Jenny, of that dour, stour-looking
+carle that sits by the cheek o’ the ingle, and turns his back on a’ men.
+He looks like ane o’ the hill-folk, for I saw him start a wee when he saw
+the red-coats, and I jalouse he wad hae liked to hae ridden by, but his
+horse (it’s a gude gelding) was ower sair travailed; he behoved to stop
+whether he wad or no. Serve him cannily, Jenny, and wi’ little din, and
+dinna bring the sodgers on him by speering ony questions at him; but let
+na him hae a room to himsell, they wad say we were hiding him.--For
+yoursell, Jenny, ye’ll be civil to a’ the folk, and take nae heed o’ ony
+nonsense and daffing the young lads may say t’ye. Folk in the hostler
+line maun put up wi’ muckle. Your mither, rest her saul, could pit up wi’
+as muckle as maist women--but aff hands is fair play; and if ony body be
+uncivil ye may gie me a cry--Aweel,--when the malt begins to get aboon
+the meal, they’ll begin to speak about government in kirk and state, and
+then, Jenny, they are like to quarrel--let them be doing--anger’s a
+drouthy passion, and the mair they dispute, the mair ale they’ll drink;
+but ye were best serve them wi’ a pint o’ the sma’ browst, it will heat
+them less, and they’ll never ken the difference.”
+
+“But, father,” said Jenny, “if they come to lounder ilk ither, as they
+did last time, suldna I cry on you?”
+
+“At no hand, Jenny; the redder gets aye the warst lick in the fray. If
+the sodgers draw their swords, ye’ll cry on the corporal and the guard.
+If the country folk tak the tangs and poker, ye’ll cry on the bailie and
+town-officers. But in nae event cry on me, for I am wearied wi’ doudling
+the bag o’ wind a’ day, and I am gaun to eat my dinner quietly in the
+spence.--And, now I think on’t, the Laird of Lickitup (that’s him that
+was the laird) was speering for sma’ drink and a saut herring--gie him a
+pu’ be the sleeve, and round into his lug I wad be blithe o’ his company
+to dine wi’ me; he was a gude customer anes in a day, and wants naething
+but means to be a gude ane again--he likes drink as weel as e’er he did.
+And if ye ken ony puir body o’ our acquaintance that’s blate for want o’
+siller, and has far to gang hame, ye needna stick to gie them a waught o’
+drink and a bannock--we’ll ne’er miss’t, and it looks creditable in a
+house like ours. And now, hinny, gang awa’, and serve the folk, but first
+bring me my dinner, and twa chappins o’ yill and the mutchkin stoup o’
+brandy.”
+
+Having thus devolved his whole cares on Jenny as prime minister, Niel
+Blane and the ci-devant laird, once his patron, but now glad to be his
+trencher-companion, sate down to enjoy themselves for the remainder of
+the evening, remote from the bustle of the public room.
+
+All in Jenny’s department was in full activity. The knights of the
+popinjay received and requited the hospitable entertainment of their
+captain, who, though he spared the cup himself, took care it should go
+round with due celerity among the rest, who might not have otherwise
+deemed themselves handsomely treated. Their numbers melted away by
+degrees, and were at length diminished to four or five, who began to talk
+of breaking up their party. At another table, at some distance, sat two
+of the dragoons, whom Niel Blane had mentioned, a sergeant and a private
+in the celebrated John Grahame of Claverhouse’s regiment of Life-Guards.
+Even the non-commissioned officers and privates in these corps were not
+considered as ordinary mercenaries, but rather approached to the rank of
+the French mousquetaires, being regarded in the light of cadets, who
+performed the duties of rank-and-file with the prospect of obtaining
+commissions in case of distinguishing themselves.
+
+Many young men of good families were to be found in the ranks, a
+circumstance which added to the pride and self-consequence of these
+troops. A remarkable instance of this occurred in the person of the
+non-commissioned officer in question. His real name was Francis Stewart,
+but he was universally known by the appellation of Bothwell, being
+lineally descended from the last earl of that name; not the infamous
+lover of the unfortunate Queen Mary, but Francis Stewart, Earl of
+Bothwell, whose turbulence and repeated conspiracies embarrassed the
+early part of James Sixth’s reign, and who at length died in exile in
+great poverty. The son of this Earl had sued to Charles I. for the
+restitution of part of his father’s forfeited estates, but the grasp of
+the nobles to whom they had been allotted was too tenacious to be
+unclenched. The breaking out of the civil wars utterly ruined him, by
+intercepting a small pension which Charles I. had allowed him, and he
+died in the utmost indigence. His son, after having served as a soldier
+abroad and in Britain, and passed through several vicissitudes of
+fortune, was fain to content himself with the situation of a
+non-commissioned officer in the Life-Guards, although lineally descended
+from the royal family, the father of the forfeited Earl of Bothwell
+having been a natural son of James VI.
+
+     [Note: Sergeant Bothwell. The history of the restless and ambitious
+     Francis Stewart, Earl of Bothwell, makes a considerable figure in
+     the reign of James VI. of Scotland, and First of England. After
+     being repeatedly pardoned for acts of treason, he was at length
+     obliged to retire abroad, where he died in great misery. Great part
+     of his forfeited estate was bestowed on Walter Scott, first Lord of
+     Buccleuch, and on the first Earl of Roxburghe.
+
+     Francis Stewart, son of the forfeited Earl, obtained from the favour
+     of Charles I. a decreet-arbitral, appointing the two noblemen,
+     grantees of his father’s estate, to restore the same, or make some
+     compensation for retaining it. The barony of Crichton, with its
+     beautiful castle, was surrendered by the curators of Francis, Earl
+     of Buccleuch, but he retained the far more extensive property in
+     Liddesdale. James Stewart also, as appears from writings in the
+     author’s possession, made an advantageous composition with the Earl
+     of Roxburghe. “But,” says the satirical Scotstarvet, “male parta
+     pejus dilabuntur;” for he never brooked them, (enjoyed them,) nor was
+     any thing the richer, since they accrued to his creditors, and are
+     now in the possession of Dr Seaton. His eldest son Francis became a
+     trooper in the late war; as for the other brother John, who was
+     Abbot of Coldingham, he also disposed all that estate, and now has
+     nothing, but lives on the charity of his friends. “The Staggering
+     State of the Scots Statesmen for One Hundred Years,” by Sir John
+     Scot of Scotstarvet. Edinburgh, 1754. P. 154.
+
+     Francis Stewart, who had been a trooper during the great Civil War,
+     seems to have received no preferment, after the Restoration, suited
+     to his high birth, though, in fact, third cousin to Charles II.
+     Captain Crichton, the friend of Dean Swift, who published his
+     Memoirs, found him a private gentleman in the King’s Life-Guards. At
+     the same time this was no degrading condition; for Fountainhall
+     records a duel fought between a Life-Guardsman and an officer in the
+     militia, because the latter had taken upon him to assume superior
+     rank as an officer, to a gentleman private in the Life-Guards. The
+     Life-Guards man was killed in the rencontre, and his antagonist was
+     executed for murder.
+
+     The character of Bothwell, except in relation to the name, is
+     entirely ideal.]
+
+Great personal strength, and dexterity in the use of his arms, as well as
+the remarkable circumstances of his descent, had recommended this man to
+the attention of his officers. But he partook in a great degree of the
+licentiousness and oppressive disposition, which the habit of acting as
+agents for government in levying fines, exacting free quarters, and
+otherwise oppressing the Presbyterian recusants, had rendered too general
+among these soldiers. They were so much accustomed to such missions, that
+they conceived themselves at liberty to commit all manner of license with
+impunity, as if totally exempted from all law and authority, excepting
+the command of their officers. On such occasions Bothwell was usually the
+most forward.
+
+It is probable that Bothwell and his companions would not so long have
+remained quiet, but for respect to the presence of their Cornet, who
+commanded the small party quartered in the borough, and who was engaged
+in a game at dice with the curate of the place. But both of these being
+suddenly called from their amusement to speak with the chief magistrate
+upon some urgent business, Bothwell was not long of evincing his contempt
+for the rest of the company.
+
+“Is it not a strange thing, Halliday,” he said to his comrade, “to see a
+set of bumpkins sit carousing here this whole evening, without having
+drank the king’s health?”
+
+“They have drank the king’s health,” said Halliday. “I heard that green
+kail-worm of a lad name his majesty’s health.”
+
+“Did he?” said Bothwell. “Then, Tom, we’ll have them drink the Archbishop
+of St Andrew’s health, and do it on their knees too.”
+
+“So we will, by G--,” said Halliday; “and he that refuses it, we’ll have
+him to the guard-house, and teach him to ride the colt foaled of an
+acorn, with a brace of carabines at each foot to keep him steady.”
+
+“Right, Tom,” continued Bothwell; “and, to do all things in order, I’ll
+begin with that sulky blue-bonnet in the ingle-nook.”
+
+He rose accordingly, and taking his sheathed broadsword under his arm to
+support the insolence which he meditated, placed himself in front of the
+stranger noticed by Niel Blane, in his admonitions to his daughter, as
+being, in all probability, one of the hill-folk, or refractory
+presbyterians.
+
+“I make so bold as to request of your precision, beloved,” said the
+trooper, in a tone of affected solemnity, and assuming the snuffle of a
+country preacher, “that you will arise from your seat, beloved, and,
+having bent your hams until your knees do rest upon the floor, beloved,
+that you will turn over this measure (called by the profane a gill) of
+the comfortable creature, which the carnal denominate brandy, to the
+health and glorification of his Grace the Archbishop of St Andrews, the
+worthy primate of all Scotland.”
+
+All waited for the stranger’s answer.--His features, austere even to
+ferocity, with a cast of eye, which, without being actually oblique,
+approached nearly to a squint, and which gave a very sinister expression
+to his countenance, joined to a frame, square, strong, and muscular,
+though something under the middle size, seemed to announce a man unlikely
+to understand rude jesting, or to receive insults with impunity.
+
+“And what is the consequence,” said he, “if I should not be disposed to
+comply with your uncivil request?”
+
+“The consequence thereof, beloved,” said Bothwell, in the same tone of
+raillery, “will be, firstly, that I will tweak thy proboscis or nose.
+Secondly, beloved, that I will administer my fist to thy distorted visual
+optics; and will conclude, beloved, with a practical application of the
+flat of my sword to the shoulders of the recusant.”
+
+“Is it even so?” said the stranger; “then give me the cup;” and, taking
+it in his hand, he said, with a peculiar expression of voice and manner,
+“The Archbishop of St Andrews, and the place he now worthily holds;--may
+each prelate in Scotland soon be as the Right Reverend James Sharpe!”
+
+“He has taken the test,” said Halliday, exultingly.
+
+“But with a qualification,” said Bothwell; “I don’t understand what the
+devil the crop-eared whig means.”
+
+“Come, gentlemen,” said Morton, who became impatient of their insolence,
+“we are here met as good subjects, and on a merry occasion; and we have a
+right to expect we shall not be troubled with this sort of discussion.”
+
+Bothwell was about to make a surly answer, but Halliday reminded him in a
+whisper, that there were strict injunctions that the soldiers should give
+no offence to the men who were sent out to the musters agreeably to the
+council’s orders. So, after honouring Morton with a broad and fierce
+stare, he said, “Well, Mr Popinjay, I shall not disturb your reign; I
+reckon it will be out by twelve at night.--Is it not an odd thing,
+Halliday,” he continued, addressing his companion, “that they should make
+such a fuss about cracking off their birding-pieces at a mark which any
+woman or boy could hit at a day’s practice? If Captain Popinjay now, or
+any of his troop, would try a bout, either with the broadsword,
+backsword, single rapier, or rapier and dagger, for a gold noble, the
+first-drawn blood, there would be some soul in it,--or, zounds, would the
+bumpkins but wrestle, or pitch the bar, or putt the stone, or throw the
+axle-tree, if (touching the end of Morton’s sword scornfully with his
+toe) they carry things about them that they are afraid to draw.”
+
+Morton’s patience and prudence now gave way entirely, and he was about to
+make a very angry answer to Bothwell’s insolent observations, when the
+stranger stepped forward.
+
+“This is my quarrel,” he said, “and in the name of the good cause, I will
+see it out myself.--Hark thee, friend,” (to Bothwell,) “wilt thou wrestle
+a fall with me?”
+
+“With my whole spirit, beloved,” answered Bothwell; “yea I will strive
+with thee, to the downfall of one or both.”
+
+“Then, as my trust is in Him that can help,” retorted his antagonist, “I
+will forthwith make thee an example to all such railing Rabshakehs!”
+
+With that he dropped his coarse grey horseman’s coat from his shoulders,
+and, extending his strong brawny arms with a look of determined
+resolution, he offered himself to the contest. The soldier was nothing
+abashed by the muscular frame, broad chest, square shoulders, and hardy
+look of his antagonist, but, whistling with great composure, unbuckled
+his belt, and laid aside his military coat. The company stood round them,
+anxious for the event.
+
+In the first struggle the trooper seemed to have some advantage, and also
+in the second, though neither could be considered as decisive. But it was
+plain he had put his whole strength too suddenly forth, against an
+antagonist possessed of great endurance, skill, vigour, and length of
+wind. In the third close, the countryman lifted his opponent fairly from
+the floor, and hurled him to the ground with such violence, that he lay
+for an instant stunned and motionless. His comrade Halliday immediately
+drew his sword; “You have killed my sergeant,” he exclaimed to the
+victorious wrestler, “and by all that is sacred you shall answer it!”
+
+“Stand back!” cried Morton and his companions, “it was all fair play;
+your comrade sought a fall, and he has got it.”
+
+“That is true enough,” said Bothwell, as he slowly rose; “put up your
+bilbo, Tom. I did not think there was a crop-ear of them all could have
+laid the best cap and feather in the King’s Life-Guards on the floor of a
+rascally change-house.--Hark ye, friend, give me your hand.” The stranger
+held out his hand. “I promise you,” said Bothwell, squeezing his hand
+very hard, “that the time will come when we shall meet again, and try
+this game over in a more earnest manner.”
+
+“And I’ll promise you,” said the stranger, returning the grasp with equal
+firmness, “that when we next meet, I will lay your head as low as it lay
+even now, when you shall lack the power to lift it up again.”
+
+“Well, beloved,” answered Bothwell, “if thou be’st a whig, thou art a
+stout and a brave one, and so good even to thee--Hadst best take thy nag
+before the Cornet makes the round; for, I promise thee, he has stay’d
+less suspicious-looking persons.”
+
+The stranger seemed to think that the hint was not to be neglected; he
+flung down his reckoning, and going into the stable, saddled and brought
+out a powerful black horse, now recruited by rest and forage, and turning
+to Morton, observed, “I ride towards Milnwood, which I hear is your home;
+will you give me the advantage and protection of your company?”
+
+“Certainly,” said Morton; although there was something of gloomy and
+relentless severity in the man’s manner from which his mind recoiled. His
+companions, after a courteous good-night, broke up and went off in
+different directions, some keeping them company for about a mile, until
+they dropped off one by one, and the travellers were left alone.
+
+The company had not long left the Howff, as Blane’s public-house was
+called, when the trumpets and kettle-drums sounded. The troopers got
+under arms in the market-place at this unexpected summons, while, with
+faces of anxiety and earnestness, Cornet Grahame, a kinsman of
+Claverhouse, and the Provost of the borough, followed by half-a-dozen
+soldiers, and town-officers with halberts, entered the apartment of Niel
+Blane.
+
+“Guard the doors!” were the first words which the Cornet spoke; “let no
+man leave the house.--So, Bothwell, how comes this? Did you not hear them
+sound boot and saddle?”
+
+“He was just going to quarters, sir,” said his comrade; “he has had a bad
+fall.”
+
+“In a fray, I suppose?” said Grahame. “If you neglect duty in this way,
+your royal blood will hardly protect you.”
+
+“How have I neglected duty?” said Bothwell, sulkily.
+
+“You should have been at quarters, Sergeant Bothwell,” replied the
+officer; “you have lost a golden opportunity. Here are news come that the
+Archbishop of St Andrews has been strangely and foully assassinated by a
+body of the rebel whigs, who pursued and stopped his carriage on
+Magus-Muir, near the town of St Andrews, dragged him out, and dispatched
+him with their swords and daggers.” [Note: The general account of this
+act of assassination is to be found in all histories of the period. A
+more particular narrative may be found in the words of one of the actors,
+James Russell, in the Appendix to Kirkton’s History of the Church of
+Scotland, published by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, Esquire. 4to,
+Edinburgh, 1817.]
+
+All stood aghast at the intelligence.
+
+“Here are their descriptions,” continued the Cornet, pulling out a
+proclamation, “the reward of a thousand merks is on each of their heads.”
+
+“The test, the test, and the qualification!” said Bothwell to Halliday;
+“I know the meaning now--Zounds, that we should not have stopt him! Go
+saddle our horses, Halliday.--Was there one of the men, Cornet, very
+stout and square-made, double-chested, thin in the flanks, hawk-nosed?”
+
+“Stay, stay,” said Cornet Grahame, “let me look at the paper.--Hackston
+of Rathillet, tall, thin, black-haired.”
+
+“That is not my man,” said Bothwell.
+
+“John Balfour, called Burley, aquiline nose, red-haired, five feet
+eight inches in height”--“It is he--it is the very man!” said
+Bothwell,--“skellies fearfully with one eye?”
+
+“Right,” continued Grahame, “rode a strong black horse, taken from the
+primate at the time of the murder.”
+
+“The very man,” exclaimed Bothwell, “and the very horse! he was in this
+room not a quarter of an hour since.”
+
+A few hasty enquiries tended still more to confirm the opinion, that the
+reserved and stern stranger was Balfour of Burley, the actual commander
+of the band of assassins, who, in the fury of misguided zeal, had
+murdered the primate, whom they accidentally met, as they were searching
+for another person against whom they bore enmity. [Note: One Carmichael,
+sheriff-depute in Fife, who had been active in enforcing the penal
+measures against non-conformists. He was on the moors hunting, but
+receiving accidental information that a party was out in quest of him, he
+returned home, and escaped the fate designed for him, which befell his
+patron the Archbishop.] In their excited imagination the casual
+rencounter had the appearance of a providential interference, and they
+put to death the archbishop, with circumstances of great and cold-blooded
+cruelty, under the belief, that the Lord, as they expressed it, had
+delivered him into their hands.
+
+     [Note:  Murderers of Archbishop Sharpe. The leader of this party was
+     David Hackston, of Rathillet, a gentleman of ancient birth and good
+     estate. He had been profligate in his younger days, but having been
+     led from curiosity to attend the conventicles of the nonconforming
+     clergy, he adopted their principles in the fullest extent. It
+     appears, that Hackston had some personal quarrel with Archbishop
+     Sharpe, which induced him to decline the command of the party when
+     the slaughter was determined upon, fearing his acceptance might be
+     ascribed to motives of personal enmity. He felt himself free in
+     conscience, however, to be present; and when the archbishop, dragged
+     from his carriage, crawled towards him on his knees for protection,
+     he replied coldly, “Sir, I will never lay a finger on you.” It is
+     remarkable that Hackston, as well as a shepherd who was also
+     present, but passive, on the occasion, were the only two of the
+     party of assassins who suffered death by the hands of the
+     executioner.
+
+     On Hackston refusing the command, it was by universal suffrage
+     conferred on John Balfour of Kinloch, called Burley, who was
+     Hackston’s brother-in-law. He is described “as a little man,
+     squint-eyed, and of a very fierce aspect.”--“He was,” adds the same
+     author, “by some reckoned none of the most religious; yet he was
+     always reckoned zealous and honest-hearted, courageous in every
+     enterprise, and a brave soldier, seldom any escaping that came into
+     his hands. He was the principal actor in killing that arch-traitor
+     to the Lord and his church, James Sharpe.” See Scottish Worthies.
+     8vo. Leith, 1816. Page 522.]
+
+“Horse, horse, and pursue, my lads!” exclaimed Cornet Grahame; “the
+murdering dog’s head is worth its weight in gold.”
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+               Arouse thee, youth!--it is no human call--
+               God’s church is leaguer’d--haste to man the wall;
+               Haste where the Redcross banners wave on high,
+               Signal of honour’d death, or victory!
+                                                  James Duff.
+
+Morton and his companion had attained some distance from the town before
+either of them addressed the other. There was something, as we have
+observed, repulsive in the manner of the stranger, which prevented Morton
+from opening the conversation, and he himself seemed to have no desire to
+talk, until, on a sudden, he abruptly demanded, “What has your father’s
+son to do with such profane mummeries as I find you this day engaged in?”
+
+“I do my duty as a subject, and pursue my harmless recreations according
+to my own pleasure,” replied Morton, somewhat offended.
+
+“Is it your duty, think you, or that of any Christian young man, to bear
+arms in their cause who have poured out the blood of God’s saints in the
+wilderness as if it had been water? or is it a lawful recreation to waste
+time in shooting at a bunch of feathers, and close your evening with
+winebibbing in public-houses and market-towns, when He that is mighty is
+come into the land with his fan in his hand, to purge the wheat from the
+chaff?”
+
+“I suppose from your style of conversation,” said Morton, “that you are
+one of those who have thought proper to stand out against the government.
+I must remind you that you are unnecessarily using dangerous language in
+the presence of a mere stranger, and that the times do not render it safe
+for me to listen to it.”
+
+“Thou canst not help it, Henry Morton,” said his companion; “thy Master
+has his uses for thee, and when he calls, thou must obey. Well wot I thou
+hast not heard the call of a true preacher, or thou hadst ere now been
+what thou wilt assuredly one day become.”
+
+“We are of the presbyterian persuasion, like yourself,” said Morton; for
+his uncle’s family attended the ministry of one of those numerous
+presbyterian clergymen, who, complying with certain regulations, were
+licensed to preach without interruption from the government. This
+indulgence, as it was called, made a great schism among the
+presbyterians, and those who accepted of it were severely censured by the
+more rigid sectaries, who refused the proffered terms. The stranger,
+therefore, answered with great disdain to Morton’s profession of faith.
+
+“That is but an equivocation--a poor equivocation. Ye listen on the
+Sabbath to a cold, worldly, time-serving discourse, from one who forgets
+his high commission so much as to hold his apostleship by the favour of
+the courtiers and the false prelates, and ye call that hearing the word!
+Of all the baits with which the devil has fished for souls in these days
+of blood and darkness, that Black Indulgence has been the most
+destructive. An awful dispensation it has been, a smiting of the shepherd
+and a scattering of the sheep upon the mountains--an uplifting of one
+Christian banner against another, and a fighting of the wars of darkness
+with the swords of the children of light!”
+
+“My uncle,” said Morton, “is of opinion, that we enjoy a reasonable
+freedom of conscience under the indulged clergymen, and I must
+necessarily be guided by his sentiments respecting the choice of a place
+of worship for his family.”
+
+“Your uncle,” said the horseman, “is one of those to whom the least lamb
+in his own folds at Milnwood is dearer than the whole Christian flock. He
+is one that could willingly bend down to the golden-calf of Bethel, and
+would have fished for the dust thereof when it was ground to powder and
+cast upon the waters. Thy father was a man of another stamp.”
+
+“My father,” replied Morton, “was indeed a brave and gallant man. And you
+may have heard, sir, that he fought for that royal family in whose name I
+was this day carrying arms.”
+
+“Ay; and had he lived to see these days, he would have cursed the hour he
+ever drew sword in their cause. But more of this hereafter--I promise
+thee full surely that thy hour will come, and then the words thou hast
+now heard will stick in thy bosom like barbed arrows. My road lies
+there.”
+
+He pointed towards a pass leading up into a wild extent of dreary and
+desolate hills; but as he was about to turn his horse’s head into the
+rugged path, which led from the high-road in that direction, an old woman
+wrapped in a red cloak, who was sitting by the cross-way, arose, and
+approaching him, said, in a mysterious tone of voice, “If ye be of our
+ain folk, gangna up the pass the night for your lives. There is a lion in
+the path, that is there. The curate of Brotherstane and ten soldiers hae
+beset the pass, to hae the lives of ony of our puir wanderers that
+venture that gate to join wi’ Hamilton and Dingwall.”
+
+“Have the persecuted folk drawn to any head among themselves?” demanded
+the stranger.
+
+“About sixty or seventy horse and foot,” said the old dame; “but, ewhow!
+they are puirly armed, and warse fended wi’ victual.”
+
+“God will help his own,” said the horseman. “Which way shall I take to
+join them?”
+
+“It’s a mere impossibility this night,” said the woman, “the troopers
+keep sae strict a guard; and they say there’s strange news come frae the
+east, that makes them rage in their cruelty mair fierce than ever--Ye
+maun take shelter somegate for the night before ye get to the muirs, and
+keep yoursell in hiding till the grey o’ the morning, and then you may
+find your way through the Drake Moss. When I heard the awfu’ threatenings
+o’ the oppressors, I e’en took my cloak about me, and sate down by the
+wayside, to warn ony of our puir scattered remnant that chanced to come
+this gate, before they fell into the nets of the spoilers.”
+
+“Have you a house near this?” said the stranger; “and can you give me
+hiding there?”
+
+“I have,” said the old woman, “a hut by the way-side, it may be a mile
+from hence; but four men of Belial, called dragoons, are lodged therein,
+to spoil my household goods at their pleasure, because I will not wait
+upon the thowless, thriftless, fissenless ministry of that carnal man,
+John Halftext, the curate.”
+
+“Good night, good woman, and thanks for thy counsel,” said the stranger,
+as he rode away.
+
+“The blessings of the promise upon you,” returned the old dame; “may He
+keep you that can keep you.”
+
+“Amen!” said the traveller; “for where to hide my head this night, mortal
+skill cannot direct me.”
+
+“I am very sorry for your distress,” said Morton; “and had I a house or
+place of shelter that could be called my own, I almost think I would risk
+the utmost rigour of the law rather than leave you in such a strait. But
+my uncle is so alarmed at the pains and penalties denounced by the laws
+against such as comfort, receive, or consort with intercommuned persons,
+that he has strictly forbidden all of us to hold any intercourse with
+them.”
+
+“It is no less than I expected,” said the stranger; “nevertheless, I
+might be received without his knowledge;--a barn, a hay-loft, a
+cart-shed,--any place where I could stretch me down, would be to my
+habits like a tabernacle of silver set about with planks of cedar.”
+
+“I assure you,” said Morton, much embarrassed, “that I have not the means
+of receiving you at Milnwood without my uncle’s consent and knowledge;
+nor, if I could do so, would I think myself justifiable in engaging him
+unconsciously in danger, which, most of all others, he fears and
+deprecates.”
+
+“Well,” said the traveller, “I have but one word to say. Did you ever
+hear your father mention John Balfour of Burley?”
+
+“His ancient friend and comrade, who saved his life, with almost the loss
+of his own, in the battle of Longmarston-Moor?--Often, very often.”
+
+“I am that Balfour,” said his companion. “Yonder stands thy uncle’s
+house; I see the light among the trees. The avenger of blood is behind
+me, and my death certain unless I have refuge there. Now, make thy
+choice, young man; to shrink from the side of thy father’s friend, like a
+thief in the night, and to leave him exposed to the bloody death from
+which he rescued thy father, or to expose thine uncle’s wordly goods to
+such peril, as, in this perverse generation, attends those who give a
+morsel of bread or a draught of cold water to a Christian man, when
+perishing for lack of refreshment!”
+
+A thousand recollections thronged on the mind of Morton at once. His
+father, whose memory he idolized, had often enlarged upon his obligations
+to this man, and regretted, that, after having been long comrades, they
+had parted in some unkindness at the time when the kingdom of Scotland
+was divided into Resolutioners and Protesters; the former of whom adhered
+to Charles II. after his father’s death upon the scaffold, while the
+Protesters inclined rather to a union with the triumphant republicans.
+The stern fanaticism of Burley had attached him to this latter party, and
+the comrades had parted in displeasure, never, as it happened, to meet
+again. These circumstances the deceased Colonel Morton had often
+mentioned to his son, and always with an expression of deep regret, that
+he had never, in any manner, been enabled to repay the assistance, which,
+on more than one occasion, he had received from Burley.
+
+To hasten Morton’s decision, the night-wind, as it swept along, brought
+from a distance the sullen sound of a kettle-drum, which, seeming to
+approach nearer, intimated that a body of horse were upon their march
+towards them.
+
+“It must be Claverhouse, with the rest of his regiment. What can have
+occasioned this night-march? If you go on, you fall into their hands--if
+you turn back towards the borough-town, you are in no less danger from
+Cornet Grahame’s party.--The path to the hill is beset. I must shelter
+you at Milnwood, or expose you to instant death;--but the punishment of
+the law shall fall upon myself, as in justice it should, not upon my
+uncle.--Follow me.”
+
+Burley, who had awaited his resolution with great composure, now followed
+him in silence.
+
+The house of Milnwood, built by the father of the present proprietor, was
+a decent mansion, suitable to the size of the estate, but, since the
+accession of this owner, it had been suffered to go considerably into
+disrepair. At some little distance from the house stood the court of
+offices. Here Morton paused.
+
+“I must leave you here for a little while,” he whispered, “until I can
+provide a bed for you in the house.”
+
+“I care little for such delicacy,” said Burley; “for thirty years this
+head has rested oftener on the turf, or on the next grey stone, than upon
+either wool or down. A draught of ale, a morsel of bread, to say my
+prayers, and to stretch me upon dry hay, were to me as good as a painted
+chamber and a prince’s table.”
+
+It occurred to Morton at the same moment, that to attempt to introduce
+the fugitive within the house, would materially increase the danger of
+detection. Accordingly, having struck a light with implements left in the
+stable for that purpose, and having fastened up their horses, he assigned
+Burley, for his place of repose, a wooden bed, placed in a loft half-full
+of hay, which an out-of-door domestic had occupied until dismissed by his
+uncle in one of those fits of parsimony which became more rigid from day
+to day. In this untenanted loft Morton left his companion, with a caution
+so to shade his light that no reflection might be seen from the window,
+and a promise that he would presently return with such refreshments as he
+might be able to procure at that late hour. This last, indeed, was a
+subject on which he felt by no means confident, for the power of
+obtaining even the most ordinary provisions depended entirely upon the
+humour in which he might happen to find his uncle’s sole confidant, the
+old housekeeper. If she chanced to be a-bed, which was very likely, or
+out of humour, which was not less so, Morton well knew the case to be at
+least problematical.
+
+Cursing in his heart the sordid parsimony which pervaded every part of
+his uncle’s establishment, he gave the usual gentle knock at the bolted
+door, by which he was accustomed to seek admittance, when accident had
+detained him abroad beyond the early and established hours of rest at the
+house of Milnwood. It was a sort of hesitating tap, which carried an
+acknowledgment of transgression in its very sound, and seemed rather to
+solicit than command attention. After it had been repeated again and
+again, the housekeeper, grumbling betwixt her teeth as she rose from the
+chimney corner in the hall, and wrapping her checked handkerchief round
+her head to secure her from the cold air, paced across the stone-passage,
+and repeated a careful “Wha’s there at this time o’ night?” more than
+once before she undid the bolts and bars, and cautiously opened the door.
+
+“This is a fine time o’ night, Mr Henry,” said the old dame, with the
+tyrannic insolence of a spoilt and favourite domestic;--“a braw time o’
+night and a bonny, to disturb a peaceful house in, and to keep quiet folk
+out o’ their beds waiting for you. Your uncle’s been in his maist three
+hours syne, and Robin’s ill o’ the rheumatize, and he’s to his bed too,
+and sae I had to sit up for ye mysell, for as sair a hoast as I hae.”
+
+Here she coughed once or twice, in further evidence of the egregious
+inconvenience which she had sustained.
+
+“Much obliged to you, Alison, and many kind thanks.”
+
+“Hegh, sirs, sae fair-fashioned as we are! Mony folk ca’ me Mistress
+Wilson, and Milnwood himsell is the only ane about this town thinks o’
+ca’ing me Alison, and indeed he as aften says Mrs Alison as ony other
+thing.”
+
+“Well, then, Mistress Alison,” said Morton, “I really am sorry to have
+kept you up waiting till I came in.”
+
+“And now that you are come in, Mr Henry,” said the cross old woman, “what
+for do you no tak up your candle and gang to your bed? and mind ye dinna
+let the candle sweal as ye gang alang the wainscot parlour, and haud a’
+the house scouring to get out the grease again.”
+
+“But, Alison, I really must have something to eat, and a draught of ale,
+before I go to bed.”
+
+“Eat?--and ale, Mr Henry?--My certie, ye’re ill to serve! Do ye think we
+havena heard o’ your grand popinjay wark yonder, and how ye bleezed away
+as muckle pouther as wad hae shot a’ the wild-fowl that we’ll want atween
+and Candlemas--and then ganging majoring to the piper’s Howff wi’ a’ the
+idle loons in the country, and sitting there birling, at your poor
+uncle’s cost, nae doubt, wi’ a’ the scaff and raff o’ the water-side,
+till sun-down, and then coming hame and crying for ale, as if ye were
+maister and mair!”
+
+Extremely vexed, yet anxious, on account of his guest, to procure
+refreshments if possible, Morton suppressed his resentment, and
+good-humouredly assured Mrs Wilson, that he was really both hungry and
+thirsty; “and as for the shooting at the popinjay, I have heard you say
+you have been there yourself, Mrs Wilson--I wish you had come to look at
+us.”
+
+“Ah, Maister Henry,” said the old dame, “I wish ye binna beginning to
+learn the way of blawing in a woman’s lug wi’ a’ your whilly-wha’s!--
+Aweel, sae ye dinna practise them but on auld wives like me, the less
+matter. But tak heed o’ the young queans, lad.--Popinjay--ye think
+yoursell a braw fellow enow; and troth!” (surveying him with the candle,)
+“there’s nae fault to find wi’ the outside, if the inside be conforming.
+But I mind, when I was a gilpy of a lassock, seeing the Duke, that was
+him that lost his head at London--folk said it wasna a very gude ane, but
+it was aye a sair loss to him, puir gentleman--Aweel, he wan the
+popinjay, for few cared to win it ower his Grace’s head--weel, he had a
+comely presence, and when a’ the gentles mounted to show their capers,
+his Grace was as near to me as I am to you; and he said to me, ‘Tak tent
+o’ yoursell, my bonny lassie, (these were his very words,) for my horse
+is not very chancy.’--And now, as ye say ye had sae little to eat or
+drink, I’ll let you see that I havena been sae unmindfu’ o’ you; for I
+dinna think it’s safe for young folk to gang to their bed on an empty
+stamach.”
+
+To do Mrs Wilson justice, her nocturnal harangues upon such occasions not
+unfrequently terminated with this sage apophthegm, which always prefaced
+the producing of some provision a little better than ordinary, such as
+she now placed before him. In fact, the principal object of her
+maundering was to display her consequence and love of power; for Mrs
+Wilson was not, at the bottom, an illtempered woman, and certainly loved
+her old and young master (both of whom she tormented extremely) better
+than any one else in the world. She now eyed Mr Henry, as she called him,
+with great complacency, as he partook of her good cheer.
+
+“Muckle gude may it do ye, my bonny man. I trow ye dinna get sic a
+skirl-in-the-pan as that at Niel Blane’s. His wife was a canny body, and
+could dress things very weel for ane in her line o’ business, but no like
+a gentleman’s housekeeper, to be sure. But I doubt the daughter’s a silly
+thing--an unco cockernony she had busked on her head at the kirk last
+Sunday. I am doubting that there will be news o’ a’ thae braws. But my
+auld een’s drawing thegither--dinna hurry yoursell, my bonny man, tak
+mind about the putting out the candle, and there’s a horn of ale, and a
+glass of clow-gillie-flower water; I dinna gie ilka body that; I keep it
+for a pain I hae whiles in my ain stamach, and it’s better for your young
+blood than brandy. Sae, gude-night to ye, Mr Henry, and see that ye tak
+gude care o’ the candle.”
+
+Morton promised to attend punctually to her caution, and requested her
+not to be alarmed if she heard the door opened, as she knew he must
+again, as usual, look to his horse, and arrange him for the night. Mrs
+Wilson then retreated, and Morton, folding up his provisions, was about
+to hasten to his guest, when the nodding head of the old housekeeper was
+again thrust in at the door, with an admonition, to remember to take an
+account of his ways before he laid himself down to rest, and to pray for
+protection during the hours of darkness.
+
+Such were the manners of a certain class of domestics, once common in
+Scotland, and perhaps still to be found in some old manor-houses in its
+remote counties. They were fixtures in the family they belonged to; and
+as they never conceived the possibility of such a thing as dismissal to
+be within the chances of their lives, they were, of course, sincerely
+attached to every member of it. [Note: A masculine retainer of this kind,
+having offended his master extremely, was commanded to leave his service
+instantly. “In troth and that will I not,” answered the domestic; “if
+your honour disna ken when ye hae a gude servant, I ken when I hae a gude
+master, and go away I will not.” On another occasion of the same nature,
+the master said, “John, you and I shall never sleep under the same roof
+again;” to which John replied, with much, “Whare the deil can your honour
+be ganging?”] On the other hand, when spoiled by the indulgence or
+indolence of their superiors, they were very apt to become ill-tempered,
+self-sufficient, and tyrannical; so much so, that a mistress or master
+would sometimes almost have wished to exchange their crossgrained
+fidelity for the smooth and accommodating duplicity of a modern menial.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+               Yea, this man’s brow, like to a tragic leaf,
+               Foretells the nature of a tragic volume.
+                                                  Shakspeare.
+
+Being at length rid of the housekeeper’s presence, Morton made a
+collection of what he had reserved from the provisions set before him,
+and prepared to carry them to his concealed guest. He did not think it
+necessary to take a light, being perfectly acquainted with every turn of
+the road; and it was lucky he did not do so, for he had hardly stepped
+beyond the threshold ere a heavy trampling of horses announced, that the
+body of cavalry, whose kettle-drums [Note: Regimental music is never
+played at night. But who can assure us that such was not the custom in
+Charles the Second’s time? Till I am well informed on this point, the
+kettle-drums shall clash on, as adding something to the picturesque
+effect of the night march.] they had before heard, were in the act of
+passing along the high-road which winds round the foot of the bank on
+which the house of Milnwood was placed. He heard the commanding officer
+distinctly give the word halt. A pause of silence followed, interrupted
+only by the occasional neighing or pawing of an impatient charger.
+
+“Whose house is this?” said a voice, in a tone of authority and command.
+
+“Milnwood, if it like your honour,” was the reply.
+
+“Is the owner well affected?” said the enquirer.
+
+“He complies with the orders of government, and frequents an indulged
+minister,” was the response.
+
+“Hum! ay! indulged? a mere mask for treason, very impolitically allowed
+to those who are too great cowards to wear their principles barefaced.--
+Had we not better send up a party and search the house, in case some of
+the bloody villains concerned in this heathenish butchery may be
+concealed in it?”
+
+Ere Morton could recover from the alarm into which this proposal had
+thrown him, a third speaker rejoined, “I cannot think it at all
+necessary; Milnwood is an infirm, hypochondriac old man, who never
+meddles with politics, and loves his moneybags and bonds better than any
+thing else in the world. His nephew, I hear, was at the wappenschaw
+to-day, and gained the popinjay, which does not look like a fanatic. I
+should think they are all gone to bed long since, and an alarm at this
+time of night might kill the poor old man.”
+
+“Well,” rejoined the leader, “if that be so, to search the house would be
+lost time, of which we have but little to throw away. Gentlemen of the
+Life-Guards, forward--March!”
+
+A few notes on the trumpet, mingled with the occasional boom of the
+kettle-drum, to mark the cadence, joined with the tramp of hoofs and the
+clash of arms, announced that the troop had resumed its march. The moon
+broke out as the leading files of the column attained a hill up which the
+road winded, and showed indistinctly the glittering of the steel-caps;
+and the dark figures of the horses and riders might be imperfectly traced
+through the gloom. They continued to advance up the hill, and sweep over
+the top of it in such long succession, as intimated a considerable
+numerical force.
+
+When the last of them had disappeared, young Morton resumed his purpose
+of visiting his guest. Upon entering the place of refuge, he found him
+seated on his humble couch with a pocket Bible open in his hand, which he
+seemed to study with intense meditation. His broadsword, which he had
+unsheathed in the first alarm at the arrival of the dragoons, lay naked
+across his knees, and the little taper that stood beside him upon the old
+chest, which served the purpose of a table, threw a partial and imperfect
+light upon those stern and harsh features, in which ferocity was rendered
+more solemn and dignified by a wild cast of tragic enthusiasm. His brow
+was that of one in whom some strong o’ermastering principle has
+overwhelmed all other passions and feelings, like the swell of a high
+spring-tide, when the usual cliffs and breakers vanish from the eye, and
+their existence is only indicated by the chasing foam of the waves that
+burst and wheel over them. He raised his head, after Morton had
+contemplated him for about a minute.
+
+“I perceive,” said Morton, looking at his sword, “that you heard the
+horsemen ride by; their passage delayed me for some minutes.”
+
+“I scarcely heeded them,” said Balfour; “my hour is not yet come. That I
+shall one day fall into their hands, and be honourably associated with
+the saints whom they have slaughtered, I am full well aware. And I would,
+young man, that the hour were come; it should be as welcome to me as ever
+wedding to bridegroom. But if my Master has more work for me on earth, I
+must not do his labour grudgingly.”
+
+“Eat and refresh yourself,” said Morton; “tomorrow your safety requires
+you should leave this place, in order to gain the hills, so soon as you
+can see to distinguish the track through the morasses.”
+
+“Young man,” returned Balfour, “you are already weary of me, and would be
+yet more so, perchance, did you know the task upon which I have been
+lately put. And I wonder not that it should be so, for there are times
+when I am weary of myself. Think you not it is a sore trial for flesh and
+blood, to be called upon to execute the righteous judgments of Heaven
+while we are yet in the body, and continue to retain that blinded sense
+and sympathy for carnal suffering, which makes our own flesh thrill when
+we strike a gash upon the body of another? And think you, that when some
+prime tyrant has been removed from his place, that the instruments of his
+punishment can at all times look back on their share in his downfall with
+firm and unshaken nerves? Must they not sometimes even question the truth
+of that inspiration which they have felt and acted under? Must they not
+sometimes doubt the origin of that strong impulse with which their
+prayers for heavenly direction under difficulties have been inwardly
+answered and confirmed, and confuse, in their disturbed apprehensions,
+the responses of Truth itself with some strong delusion of the enemy?”
+
+“These are subjects, Mr Balfour, on which I am ill qualified to converse
+with you,” answered Morton; “but I own I should strongly doubt the origin
+of any inspiration which seemed to dictate a line of conduct contrary to
+those feelings of natural humanity, which Heaven has assigned to us as
+the general law of our conduct.”
+
+Balfour seemed somewhat disturbed, and drew himself hastily up, but
+immediately composed himself, and answered coolly, “It is natural you
+should think so; you are yet in the dungeon-house of the law, a pit
+darker than that into which Jeremiah was plunged, even the dungeon of
+Malcaiah the son of Hamelmelech, where there was no water but mire. Yet
+is the seal of the covenant upon your forehead, and the son of the
+righteous, who resisted to blood where the banner was spread on the
+mountains, shall not be utterly lost, as one of the children of darkness.
+Trow ye, that in this day of bitterness and calamity, nothing is required
+at our hands but to keep the moral law as far as our carnal frailty will
+permit? Think ye our conquests must be only over our corrupt and evil
+affections and passions? No; we are called upon, when we have girded up
+our loins, to run the race boldly, and when we have drawn the sword, we
+are enjoined to smite the ungodly, though he be our neighbour, and the
+man of power and cruelty, though he were of our own kindred, and the
+friend of our own bosom.”
+
+“These are the sentiments,” said Morton, “that your enemies impute to
+you, and which palliate, if they do not vindicate, the cruel measures
+which the council have directed against you. They affirm, that you
+pretend to derive your rule of action from what you call an inward light,
+rejecting the restraints of legal magistracy, of national law, and even
+of common humanity, when in opposition to what you call the spirit within
+you.”
+
+“They do us wrong,” answered the Covenanter; “it is they, perjured as
+they are, who have rejected all law, both divine and civil, and who now
+persecute us for adherence to the Solemn League and Covenant between God
+and the kingdom of Scotland, to which all of them, save a few popish
+malignants, have sworn in former days, and which they now burn in the
+market-places, and tread under foot in derision. When this Charles
+Stewart returned to these kingdoms, did the malignants bring him back?
+They had tried it with strong hand, but they failed, I trow. Could James
+Grahame of Montrose, and his Highland caterans, have put him again in the
+place of his father? I think their heads on the Westport told another
+tale for many a long day. It was the workers of the glorious work--the
+reformers of the beauty of the tabernacle, that called him again to the
+high place from which his father fell. And what has been our reward? In
+the words of the prophet, ‘We looked for peace, but no good came; and for
+a time of health, and behold trouble--The snorting of his horses was
+heard from Dan; the whole land trembled at the sound of the neighing of
+his strong ones; for they are come, and have devoured the land and all
+that is in it.’”
+
+“Mr Balfour,” answered Morton, “I neither undertake to subscribe to or
+refute your complaints against the government. I have endeavoured to
+repay a debt due to the comrade of my father, by giving you shelter in
+your distress, but you will excuse me from engaging myself either in your
+cause, or in controversy. I will leave you to repose, and heartily wish
+it were in my power to render your condition more comfortable.”
+
+“But I shall see you, I trust, in the morning, ere I depart?--I am not a
+man whose bowels yearn after kindred and friends of this world. When I
+put my hand to the plough, I entered into a covenant with my worldly
+affections that I should not look back on the things I left behind me.
+Yet the son of mine ancient comrade is to me as mine own, and I cannot
+behold him without the deep and firm belief, that I shall one day see him
+gird on his sword in the dear and precious cause for which his father
+fought and bled.”
+
+With a promise on Morton’s part that he would call the refugee when it
+was time for him to pursue his journey, they parted for the night.
+
+Morton retired to a few hours’ rest; but his imagination, disturbed by
+the events of the day, did not permit him to enjoy sound repose. There
+was a blended vision of horror before him, in which his new friend seemed
+to be a principal actor. The fair form of Edith Bellenden also mingled in
+his dream, weeping, and with dishevelled hair, and appearing to call on
+him for comfort and assistance, which he had not in his power to render.
+He awoke from these unrefreshing slumbers with a feverish impulse, and a
+heart which foreboded disaster. There was already a tinge of dazzling
+lustre on the verge of the distant hills, and the dawn was abroad in all
+the freshness of a summer morning.
+
+“I have slept too long,” he exclaimed to himself, “and must now hasten to
+forward the journey of this unfortunate fugitive.”
+
+He dressed himself as fast as possible, opened the door of the house with
+as little noise as he could, and hastened to the place of refuge occupied
+by the Covenanter. Morton entered on tiptoe, for the determined tone and
+manner, as well as the unusual language and sentiments of this singular
+individual, had struck him with a sensation approaching to awe. Balfour
+was still asleep. A ray of light streamed on his uncurtained couch, and
+showed to Morton the working of his harsh features, which seemed agitated
+by some strong internal cause of disturbance. He had not undressed. Both
+his arms were above the bed-cover, the right hand strongly clenched, and
+occasionally making that abortive attempt to strike which usually attends
+dreams of violence; the left was extended, and agitated, from time to
+time, by a movement as if repulsing some one. The perspiration stood on
+his brow, “like bubbles in a late disturbed stream,” and these marks of
+emotion were accompanied with broken words which escaped from him at
+intervals--“Thou art taken, Judas--thou art taken--Cling not to my
+knees--cling not to my knees--hew him down!--A priest? Ay, a priest of
+Baal, to be bound and slain, even at the brook Kishon.--Fire arms will
+not prevail against him--Strike--thrust with the cold iron--put him out
+of pain--put him out of pain, were it but for the sake of his grey
+hairs.”
+
+Much alarmed at the import of these expressions, which seemed to burst
+from him even in sleep with the stern energy accompanying the
+perpetration of some act of violence, Morton shook his guest by the
+shoulder in order to awake him. The first words he uttered were, “Bear me
+where ye will, I will avouch the deed!”
+
+His glance around having then fully awakened him, he at once assumed all
+the stern and gloomy composure of his ordinary manner, and throwing
+himself on his knees, before speaking to Morton, poured forth an
+ejaculatory prayer for the suffering Church of Scotland, entreating that
+the blood of her murdered saints and martyrs might be precious in the
+sight of Heaven, and that the shield of the Almighty might be spread over
+the scattered remnant, who, for His name’s sake, were abiders in the
+wilderness. Vengeance--speedy and ample vengeance on the oppressors, was
+the concluding petition of his devotions, which he expressed aloud in
+strong and emphatic language, rendered more impressive by the Orientalism
+of Scripture.
+
+When he had finished his prayer he arose, and, taking Morton by the arm,
+they descended together to the stable, where the Wanderer (to give Burley
+a title which was often conferred on his sect) began to make his horse
+ready to pursue his journey. When the animal was saddled and bridled,
+Burley requested Morton to walk with him a gun-shot into the wood, and
+direct him to the right road for gaining the moors. Morton readily
+complied, and they walked for some time in silence under the shade of
+some fine old trees, pursuing a sort of natural path, which, after
+passing through woodland for about half a mile, led into the bare and
+wild country which extends to the foot of the hills.
+
+There was little conversation between them, until at length Burley
+suddenly asked Morton, “Whether the words he had spoken over-night had
+borne fruit in his mind?”
+
+Morton answered, “That he remained of the same opinion which he had
+formerly held, and was determined, at least as far and as long as
+possible, to unite the duties of a good Christian with those of a
+peaceful subject.”
+
+“In other words,” replied Burley, “you are desirous to serve both God and
+Mammon--to be one day professing the truth with your lips, and the next
+day in arms, at the command of carnal and tyrannic authority, to shed the
+blood of those who for the truth have forsaken all things? Think ye,” he
+continued, “to touch pitch and remain undefiled? to mix in the ranks of
+malignants, papists, papa-prelatists, latitudinarians, and scoffers; to
+partake of their sports, which are like the meat offered unto idols; to
+hold intercourse, perchance, with their daughters, as the sons of God
+with the daughters of men in the world before the flood--Think you, I
+say, to do all these things, and yet remain free from pollution? I say
+unto you, that all communication with the enemies of the Church is the
+accursed thing which God hateth! Touch not--taste not--handle not! And
+grieve not, young man, as if you alone were called upon to subdue your
+carnal affections, and renounce the pleasures which are a snare to your
+feet--I say to you, that the Son of David hath denounced no better lot on
+the whole generation of mankind.”
+
+He then mounted his horse, and, turning to Morton, repeated the text of
+Scripture, “An heavy yoke was ordained for the sons of Adam from the day
+they go out of their mother’s womb, till the day that they return to the
+mother of all things; from him who is clothed in blue silk and weareth a
+crown, even to him who weareth simple linen,--wrath, envy, trouble, and
+unquietness, rigour, strife, and fear of death in the time of rest.”
+
+Having uttered these words he set his horse in motion, and soon
+disappeared among the boughs of the forest.
+
+“Farewell, stern enthusiast,” said Morton, looking after him; “in some
+moods of my mind, how dangerous would be the society of such a companion!
+If I am unmoved by his zeal for abstract doctrines of faith, or rather
+for a peculiar mode of worship, (such was the purport of his
+reflections,) can I be a man, and a Scotchman, and look with indifference
+on that persecution which has made wise men mad? Was not the cause of
+freedom, civil and religious, that for which my father fought; and shall
+I do well to remain inactive, or to take the part of an oppressive
+government, if there should appear any rational prospect of redressing
+the insufferable wrongs to which my miserable countrymen are subjected?--
+And yet, who shall warrant me that these people, rendered wild by
+persecution, would not, in the hour of victory, be as cruel and as
+intolerant as those by whom they are now hunted down? What degree of
+moderation, or of mercy, can be expected from this Burley, so
+distinguished as one of their principal champions, and who seems even now
+to be reeking from some recent deed of violence, and to feel stings of
+remorse, which even his enthusiasm cannot altogether stifle? I am weary
+of seeing nothing but violence and fury around me--now assuming the mask
+of lawful authority, now taking that of religious zeal. I am sick of my
+country--of myself--of my dependent situation--of my repressed
+feelings--of these woods--of that river--of that house--of all
+but--Edith, and she can never be mine! Why should I haunt her walks?--Why
+encourage my own delusion, and perhaps hers?--She can never be mine. Her
+grandmother’s pride--the opposite principles of our families--my
+wretched state of dependence--a poor miserable slave, for I have not
+even the wages of a servant--all circumstances give the lie to the vain
+hope that we can ever be united. Why then protract a delusion so
+painful?
+
+“But I am no slave,” he said aloud, and drawing himself up to his full
+stature--“no slave, in one respect, surely. I can change my abode--my
+father’s sword is mine, and Europe lies open before me, as before him and
+hundreds besides of my countrymen, who have filled it with the fame of
+their exploits. Perhaps some lucky chance may raise me to a rank with our
+Ruthvens, our Lesleys, our Monroes, the chosen leaders of the famous
+Protestant champion, Gustavus Adolphus, or, if not, a soldier’s life or a
+soldier’s grave.”
+
+When he had formed this determination, he found himself near the door of
+his uncle’s house, and resolved to lose no time in making him acquainted
+with it.
+
+“Another glance of Edith’s eye, another walk by Edith’s side, and my
+resolution would melt away. I will take an irrevocable step, therefore,
+and then see her for the last time.”
+
+In this mood he entered the wainscotted parlour, in which his uncle was
+already placed at his morning’s refreshment, a huge plate of oatmeal
+porridge, with a corresponding allowance of butter-milk. The favourite
+housekeeper was in attendance, half standing, half resting on the back of
+a chair, in a posture betwixt freedom and respect. The old gentleman had
+been remarkably tall in his earlier days, an advantage which he now lost
+by stooping to such a degree, that at a meeting, where there was some
+dispute concerning the sort of arch which should be thrown over a
+considerable brook, a facetious neighbour proposed to offer Milnwood a
+handsome sum for his curved backbone, alleging that he would sell any
+thing that belonged to him. Splay feet of unusual size, long thin hands,
+garnished with nails which seldom felt the steel, a wrinkled and puckered
+visage, the length of which corresponded with that of his person,
+together with a pair of little sharp bargain-making grey eyes, that
+seemed eternally looking out for their advantage, completed the highly
+unpromising exterior of Mr Morton of Milnwood. As it would have been very
+injudicious to have lodged a liberal or benevolent disposition in such an
+unworthy cabinet, nature had suited his person with a mind exactly in
+conformity with it, that is to say, mean, selfish, and covetous.
+
+When this amiable personage was aware of the presence of his nephew, he
+hastened, before addressing him, to swallow the spoonful of porridge
+which he was in the act of conveying to his mouth, and, as it chanced to
+be scalding hot, the pain occasioned by its descent down his throat and
+into his stomach, inflamed the ill-humour with which he was already
+prepared to meet his kinsman.
+
+“The deil take them that made them!” was his first ejaculation,
+apostrophizing his mess of porridge.
+
+“They’re gude parritch eneugh,” said Mrs Wilson, “if ye wad but take time
+to sup them. I made them mysell; but if folk winna hae patience, they
+should get their thrapples causewayed.”
+
+“Haud your peace, Alison! I was speaking to my nevoy.--How is this, sir?
+And what sort o’ scampering gates are these o’ going on? Ye were not at
+hame last night till near midnight.”
+
+“Thereabouts, sir, I believe,” answered Morton, in an indifferent tone.
+
+“Thereabouts, sir?--What sort of an answer is that, sir? Why came ye na
+hame when other folk left the grund?”
+
+“I suppose you know the reason very well, sir,” said Morton; “I had the
+fortune to be the best marksman of the day, and remained, as is usual, to
+give some little entertainment to the other young men.”
+
+“The deevil ye did, sir! And ye come to tell me that to my face? You
+pretend to gie entertainments, that canna come by a dinner except by
+sorning on a carefu’ man like me? But if ye put me to charges, I’se work
+it out o’ye. I seena why ye shouldna haud the pleugh, now that the
+pleughman has left us; it wad set ye better than wearing thae green duds,
+and wasting your siller on powther and lead; it wad put ye in an honest
+calling, and wad keep ye in bread without being behadden to ony ane.”
+
+“I am very ambitious of learning such a calling, sir, but I don’t
+understand driving the plough.”
+
+“And what for no? It’s easier than your gunning and archery that ye like
+sae weel. Auld Davie is ca’ing it e’en now, and ye may be goadsman for
+the first twa or three days, and tak tent ye dinna o’erdrive the owsen,
+and then ye will be fit to gang betweeu the stilts. Ye’ll ne’er learn
+younger, I’ll be your caution. Haggie-holm is heavy land, and Davie is
+ower auld to keep the coulter down now.”
+
+“I beg pardon for interrupting you, sir, but I have formed a scheme for
+myself, which will have the same effect of relieving you of the burden
+and charge attending my company.”
+
+“Ay? Indeed? a scheme o’ yours? that must be a denty ane!” said the
+uncle, with a very peculiar sneer; “let’s hear about it, lad.”
+
+“It is said in two words, sir. I intend to leave this country, and serve
+abroad, as my father did before these unhappy troubles broke out at home.
+His name will not be so entirely forgotten in the countries where he
+served, but that it will procure his son at least the opportunity of
+trying his fortune as a soldier.”
+
+“Gude be gracious to us!” exclaimed the housekeeper; “our young Mr Harry
+gang abroad? na, na! eh, na! that maun never be.”
+
+Milnwood, entertaining no thought or purpose of parting with his nephew,
+who was, moreover, very useful to him in many respects, was thunderstruck
+at this abrupt declaration of independence from a person whose deference
+to him had hitherto been unlimited. He recovered himself, however,
+immediately.
+
+“And wha do you think is to give you the means, young man, for such a
+wild-goose chase? Not I, I am sure. I can hardly support you at hame. And
+ye wad be marrying, I’se warrant, as your father did afore ye, too, and
+sending your uncle hame a pack o’ weans to be fighting and skirling
+through the house in my auld days, and to take wing and flee aff like
+yoursell, whenever they were asked to serve a turn about the town?”
+
+“I have no thoughts of ever marrying,” answered Henry.
+
+“Hear till him now!” said the housekeeper. “It’s a shame to hear a douce
+young lad speak in that way, since a’ the warld kens that they maun
+either marry or do waur.”
+
+“Haud your peace, Alison,” said her master; “and you, Harry,” (he added
+more mildly,) “put this nonsense out o’ your head--this comes o’ letting
+ye gang a-sodgering for a day--mind ye hae nae siller, lad, for ony sic
+nonsense plans.”
+
+“I beg your pardon, sir, my wants shall be very few; and would you please
+to give me the gold chain, which the Margrave gave to my father after the
+battle of Lutzen”--“Mercy on us! the gowd chain?” exclaimed his uncle.
+
+“The chain of gowd!” re-echoed the housekeeper, both aghast with
+astonishment at the audacity of the proposal.
+
+--“I will keep a few links,” continued the young man, “to remind me of
+him by whom it was won, and the place where he won it,” continued Morton;
+“the rest shall furnish me the means of following the same career in
+which my father obtained that mark of distinction.”
+
+“Mercifu’ powers!” exclaimed the governante, “my master wears it every
+Sunday!”
+
+“Sunday and Saturday,” added old Milnwood, “whenever I put on my black
+velvet coat; and Wylie Mactrickit is partly of opinion it’s a kind of
+heir-loom, that rather belangs to the head of the house than to the
+immediate descendant. It has three thousand links; I have counted them a
+thousand times. It’s worth three hundred pounds sterling.”
+
+“That is more than I want, sir; if you choose to give me the third part
+of the money, and five links of the chain, it will amply serve my
+purpose, and the rest will be some slight atonement for the expense and
+trouble I have put you to.”
+
+“The laddie’s in a creel!” exclaimed his uncle. “O, sirs, what will
+become o’ the rigs o’ Milnwood when I am dead and gane! He would fling
+the crown of Scotland awa, if he had it.”
+
+“Hout, sir,” said the old housekeeper, “I maun e’en say it’s partly your
+ain faut. Ye maunna curb his head ower sair in neither; and, to be sure,
+since he has gane doun to the Howff, ye maun just e’en pay the lawing.”
+
+“If it be not abune twa dollars, Alison,” said the old gentleman, very
+reluctantly.
+
+“I’ll settle it myself wi’ Niel Blane, the first time I gang down to the
+clachan,” said Alison, “cheaper than your honour or Mr Harry can do;” and
+then whispered to Henry, “Dinna vex him onymair; I’ll pay the lave out o’
+the butter siller, and nae mair words about it.” Then proceeding aloud,
+“And ye maunna speak o’ the young gentleman hauding the pleugh; there’s
+puir distressed whigs enow about the country will be glad to do that for
+a bite and a soup--it sets them far better than the like o’ him.”
+
+“And then we’ll hae the dragoons on us,” said Milnwood, “for comforting
+and entertaining intercommuned rebels; a bonny strait ye wad put us in!--
+But take your breakfast, Harry, and then lay by your new green coat, and
+put on your Raploch grey; it’s a mair mensfu’ and thrifty dress, and a
+mair seemly sight, than thae dangling slops and ribbands.”
+
+Morton left the room, perceiving plainly that he had at present no chance
+of gaining his purpose, and, perhaps, not altogether displeased at the
+obstacles which seemed to present themselves to his leaving the
+neighbourhood of Tillietudlem. The housekeeper followed him into the next
+room, patting him on the back, and bidding him “be a gude bairn, and pit
+by his braw things.”
+
+“And I’ll loop doun your hat, and lay by the band and ribband,” said the
+officious dame; “and ye maun never, at no hand, speak o’ leaving the
+land, or of selling the gowd chain, for your uncle has an unco pleasure
+in looking on you, and in counting the links of the chainzie; and ye ken
+auld folk canna last for ever; sae the chain, and the lands, and a’ will
+be your ain ae day; and ye may marry ony leddy in the country-side ye
+like, and keep a braw house at Milnwood, for there’s enow o’ means; and
+is not that worth waiting for, my dow?”
+
+There was something in the latter part of the prognostic which sounded so
+agreeably in the ears of Morton, that he shook the old dame cordially by
+the hand, and assured her he was much obliged by her good advice, and
+would weigh it carefully before he proceeded to act upon his former
+resolution.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+               From seventeen years till now, almost fourscore,
+               Here lived I, but now live here no more.
+               At seventeen years many their fortunes seek,
+               But at fourscore it is too late a week.
+                                                  As You Like it.
+
+We must conduct our readers to the Tower of Tillietudlem, to which Lady
+Margaret Bellenden had returned, in romantic phrase, malecontent and full
+of heaviness, at the unexpected, and, as she deemed it, indelible
+affront, which had been brought upon her dignity by the public
+miscarriage of Goose Gibbie. That unfortunate man-at-arms was forthwith
+commanded to drive his feathered charge to the most remote parts of the
+common moor, and on no account to awaken the grief or resentment of his
+lady, by appearing in her presence while the sense of the affront was yet
+recent.
+
+The next proceeding of Lady Margaret was to hold a solemn court of
+justice, to which Harrison and the butler were admitted, partly on the
+footing of witnesses, partly as assessors, to enquire into the recusancy
+of Cuddie Headrigg the ploughman, and the abetment which he had received
+from his mother--these being regarded as the original causes of the
+disaster which had befallen the chivalry of Tillietudlem. The charge
+being fully made out and substantiated, Lady Margaret resolved to
+reprimand the culprits in person, and, if she found them impenitent, to
+extend the censure into a sentence of expulsion from the barony. Miss
+Bellenden alone ventured to say any thing in behalf of the accused, but
+her countenance did not profit them as it might have done on any other
+occasion. For so soon as Edith had heard it ascertained that the
+unfortunate cavalier had not suffered in his person, his disaster had
+affected her with an irresistible disposition to laugh, which, in spite
+of Lady Margaret’s indignation, or rather irritated, as usual, by
+restraint, had broke out repeatedly on her return homeward, until her
+grandmother, in no shape imposed upon by the several fictitious causes
+which the young lady assigned for her ill-timed risibility, upbraided her
+in very bitter terms with being insensible to the honour of her family.
+Miss Bellenden’s intercession, therefore, had, on this occasion, little
+or no chance to be listened to.
+
+As if to evince the rigour of her disposition, Lady Margaret, on this
+solemn occasion, exchanged the ivory-headed cane with which she commonly
+walked, for an immense gold-headed staff which had belonged to her
+father, the deceased Earl of Torwood, and which, like a sort of mace of
+office, she only made use of on occasions of special solemnity. Supported
+by this awful baton of command, Lady Margaret Bellenden entered the
+cottage of the delinquents.
+
+There was an air of consciousness about old Mause, as she rose from her
+wicker chair in the chimney-nook, not with the cordial alertness of
+visage which used, on other occasions, to express the honour she felt in
+the visit of her lady, but with a certain solemnity and embarrassment,
+like an accused party on his first appearance in presence of his judge,
+before whom he is, nevertheless, determined to assert his innocence. Her
+arms were folded, her mouth primmed into an expression of respect,
+mingled with obstinacy, her whole mind apparently bent up to the solemn
+interview. With her best curtsey to the ground, and a mute motion of
+reverence, Mause pointed to the chair, which, on former occasions, Lady
+Margaret (for the good lady was somewhat of a gossip) had deigned to
+occupy for half an hour sometimes at a time, hearing the news of the
+county and of the borough. But at present her mistress was far too
+indignant for such condescension. She rejected the mute invitation with a
+haughty wave of her hand, and drawing herself up as she spoke, she
+uttered the following interrogatory in a tone calculated to overwhelm the
+culprit.
+
+“Is it true, Mause, as I am informed by Harrison, Gudyill, and others of
+my people, that you hae taen it upon you, contrary to the faith you owe
+to God and the king, and to me, your natural lady and mistress, to keep
+back your son frae the wappen-schaw, held by the order of the sheriff,
+and to return his armour and abulyiements at a moment when it was
+impossible to find a suitable delegate in his stead, whereby the barony
+of Tullietudlem, baith in the person of its mistress and indwellers, has
+incurred sic a disgrace and dishonour as hasna befa’en the family since
+the days of Malcolm Canmore?”
+
+Mause’s habitual respect for her mistress was extreme; she hesitated, and
+one or two short coughs expressed the difficulty she had in defending
+herself.
+
+“I am sure--my leddy--hem, hem!--I am sure I am sorry--very sorry that
+ony cause of displeasure should hae occurred--but my son’s illness”--
+“Dinna tell me of your son’s illness, Mause! Had he been sincerely
+unweel, ye would hae been at the Tower by daylight to get something that
+wad do him gude; there are few ailments that I havena medical recipes
+for, and that ye ken fu’ weel.”
+
+“O ay, my leddy! I am sure ye hae wrought wonderful cures; the last thing
+ye sent Cuddie, when he had the batts, e’en wrought like a charm.”
+
+“Why, then, woman, did ye not apply to me, if there was only real
+need?--but there was none, ye fause-hearted vassal that ye are!”
+
+“Your leddyship never ca’d me sic a word as that before. Ohon! that I
+suld live to be ca’d sae,” she continued, bursting into tears, “and me a
+born servant o’ the house o’ Tillietudlem! I am sure they belie baith
+Cuddie and me sair, if they said he wadna fight ower the boots in blude
+for your leddyship and Miss Edith, and the auld Tower--ay suld he, and I
+would rather see him buried beneath it, than he suld gie way--but thir
+ridings and wappenschawings, my leddy, I hae nae broo o’ them ava. I can
+find nae warrant for them whatsoever.”
+
+“Nae warrant for them?” cried the high-born dame. “Do ye na ken, woman,
+that ye are bound to be liege vassals in all hunting, hosting, watching,
+and warding, when lawfully summoned thereto in my name? Your service is
+not gratuitous. I trow ye hae land for it.--Ye’re kindly tenants; hae a
+cot-house, a kale-yard, and a cow’s grass on the common.--Few hae been
+brought farther ben, and ye grudge your son suld gie me a day’s service
+in the field?”
+
+“Na, my leddy--na, my leddy, it’s no that,” exclaimed Mause, greatly
+embarrassed, “but ane canna serve twa maisters; and, if the truth maun
+e’en come out, there’s Ane abune whase commands I maun obey before your
+leddyship’s. I am sure I would put neither king’s nor kaisar’s, nor ony
+earthly creature’s, afore them.”
+
+“How mean ye by that, ye auld fule woman?--D’ye think that I order ony
+thing against conscience?”
+
+“I dinna pretend to say that, my leddy, in regard o’ your leddyship’s
+conscience, which has been brought up, as it were, wi’ prelatic
+principles; but ilka ane maun walk by the light o’ their ain; and mine,”
+ said Mause, waxing bolder as the conference became animated, “tells me
+that I suld leave a’--cot, kale-yard, and cow’s grass--and suffer a’,
+rather than that I or mine should put on harness in an unlawfu’ cause,”
+
+“Unlawfu’!” exclaimed her mistress; “the cause to which you are called by
+your lawful leddy and mistress--by the command of the king--by the writ
+of the privy council--by the order of the lordlieutenant--by the warrant
+of the sheriff?”
+
+“Ay, my leddy, nae doubt; but no to displeasure your leddyship, ye’ll
+mind that there was ance a king in Scripture they ca’d Nebuchadnezzar,
+and he set up a golden image in the plain o’ Dura, as it might be in the
+haugh yonder by the water-side, where the array were warned to meet
+yesterday; and the princes, and the governors, and the captains, and the
+judges themsells, forby the treasurers, the counsellors, and the
+sheriffs, were warned to the dedication thereof, and commanded to fall
+down and worship at the sound of the cornet, flute, harp, sackbut,
+psaltery, and all kinds of music.”
+
+“And what o’ a’ this, ye fule wife? Or what had Nebuchadnezzar to do with
+the wappen-schaw of the Upper Ward of Clydesdale?”
+
+“Only just thus far, my leddy,” continued Mause, firmly, “that prelacy is
+like the great golden image in the plain of Dura, and that as Shadrach,
+Meshach, and Abednego, were borne out in refusing to bow down and
+worship, so neither shall Cuddy Headrigg, your leddyship’s poor
+pleughman, at least wi’ his auld mither’s consent, make murgeons or
+Jenny-flections, as they ca’ them, in the house of the prelates and
+curates, nor gird him wi’ armour to fight in their cause, either at the
+sound of kettle-drums, organs, bagpipes, or ony other kind of music
+whatever.”
+
+Lady Margaret Bellenden heard this exposition of Scripture with the
+greatest possible indignation, as well as surprise.
+
+“I see which way the wind blaws,” she exclaimed, after a pause of
+astonishment; “the evil spirit of the year sixteen hundred and forty-twa
+is at wark again as merrily as ever, and ilka auld wife in the
+chimley-neuck will be for knapping doctrine wi’ doctors o’ divinity and
+the godly fathers o’ the church.”
+
+“If your leddyship means the bishops and curates, I’m sure they hae been
+but stepfathers to the Kirk o’ Scotland. And, since your leddyship is
+pleased to speak o’ parting wi’ us, I am free to tell you a piece o’ my
+mind in another article. Your leddyship and the steward hae been pleased
+to propose that my son Cuddie suld work in the barn wi’ a new-fangled
+machine [Note: Probably something similar to the barn-fanners now used
+for winnowing corn, which were not, however, used in their present shape
+until about 1730. They were objected to by the more rigid sectaries on
+their first introduction, upon such reasoning as that of honest Mause in
+the text.] for dighting the corn frae the chaff, thus impiously thwarting
+the will of Divine Providence, by raising wind for your leddyship’s ain
+particular use by human art, instead of soliciting it by prayer, or
+waiting patiently for whatever dispensation of wind Providence was
+pleased to send upon the sheeling-hill. Now, my leddy”--“The woman would
+drive ony reasonable being daft!” said Lady Margaret; then resuming her
+tone of authority and indifference, she concluded, “Weel, Mause, I’ll
+just end where I sud hae begun--ye’re ower learned and ower godly for me
+to dispute wi’; sae I have just this to say,--either Cuddie must attend
+musters when he’s lawfully warned by the ground officer, or the sooner he
+and you flit and quit my bounds the better; there’s nae scarcity o’ auld
+wives or ploughmen; but, if there were, I had rather that the rigs of
+Tillietudlem bare naething but windle-straes and sandy lavrocks [Note:
+Bent-grass and sand-larks.] than that they were ploughed by rebels to the
+king.”
+
+“Aweel, my leddy,” said Mause, “I was born here, and thought to die where
+my father died; and your leddyship has been a kind mistress, I’ll ne’er
+deny that, and I’se ne’er cease to pray for you, and for Miss Edith, and
+that ye may be brought to see the error of your ways. But still”--“The
+error of my ways!” interrupted Lady Margaret, much incensed--“The error
+of my ways, ye uncivil woman?”
+
+“Ou, ay, my leddy, we are blinded that live in this valley of tears and
+darkness, and hae a’ ower mony errors, grit folks as weel as sma’--but,
+as I said, my puir bennison will rest wi’ you and yours wherever I am. I
+will be wae to hear o’ your affliction, and blithe to hear o’ your
+prosperity, temporal and spiritual. But I canna prefer the commands of an
+earthly mistress to those of a heavenly master, and sae I am e’en ready
+to suffer for righteousness’ sake.”
+
+“It is very well,” said Lady Margaret, turning her back in great
+displeasure; “ye ken my will, Mause, in the matter. I’ll hae nae whiggery
+in the barony of Tillietudlem--the next thing wad be to set up a
+conventicle in my very withdrawing room.”
+
+Having said this, she departed, with an air of great dignity; and Mause,
+giving way to feelings which she had suppressed during the
+interview,--for she, like her mistress, had her own feeling of
+pride,--now lifted up her voice and wept aloud.
+
+Cuddie, whose malady, real or pretended, still detained him in bed, lay
+perdu during all this conference, snugly ensconced within his boarded
+bedstead, and terrified to death lest Lady Margaret, whom he held in
+hereditary reverence, should have detected his presence, and bestowed on
+him personally some of those bitter reproaches with which she loaded his
+mother. But as soon as he thought her ladyship fairly out of hearing, he
+bounced up in his nest.
+
+“The foul fa’ ye, that I suld say sae,” he cried out to his mother, “for
+a lang-tongued clavering wife, as my father, honest man, aye ca’d ye!
+Couldna ye let the leddy alane wi’ your whiggery? And I was e’en as great
+a gomeral to let ye persuade me to lie up here amang the blankets like a
+hurcheon, instead o’ gaun to the wappen-schaw like other folk. Odd, but I
+put a trick on ye, for I was out at the window-bole when your auld back
+was turned, and awa down by to hae a baff at the popinjay, and I shot
+within twa on’t. I cheated the leddy for your clavers, but I wasna gaun
+to cheat my joe. But she may marry whae she likes now, for I’m clean dung
+ower. This is a waur dirdum than we got frae Mr Gudyill when ye garr’d me
+refuse to eat the plum-porridge on Yule-eve, as if it were ony matter to
+God or man whether a pleughman had suppit on minched pies or sour
+sowens.”
+
+“O, whisht, my bairn, whisht,” replied Mause; “thou kensna about thae
+things--It was forbidden meat, things dedicated to set days and holidays,
+which are inhibited to the use of protestant Christians.”
+
+“And now,” continued her son, “ye hae brought the leddy hersell on our
+hands!--An I could but hae gotten some decent claes in, I wad hae spanged
+out o’ bed, and tauld her I wad ride where she liked, night or day, an
+she wad but leave us the free house and the yaird, that grew the best
+early kale in the haill country, and the cow’s grass.”
+
+“O wow! my winsome bairn, Cuddie,” continued the old dame, “murmur not at
+the dispensation; never grudge suffering in the gude cause.”
+
+“But what ken I if the cause is gude or no, mither,” rejoined Cuddie,
+“for a’ ye bleeze out sae muckle doctrine about it? It’s clean beyond my
+comprehension a’thegither. I see nae sae muckle difference atween the twa
+ways o’t as a’ the folk pretend. It’s very true the curates read aye the
+same words ower again; and if they be right words, what for no? A gude
+tale’s no the waur o’ being twice tauld, I trow; and a body has aye the
+better chance to understand it. Every body’s no sae gleg at the uptake as
+ye are yoursell, mither.”
+
+“O, my dear Cuddie, this is the sairest distress of a’,” said the anxious
+mother--“O, how aften have I shown ye the difference between a pure
+evangelical doctrine, and ane that’s corrupt wi’ human inventions? O, my
+bairn, if no for your ain saul’s sake, yet for my grey hairs”--“Weel,
+mither,” said Cuddie, interrupting her, “what need ye mak sae muckle din
+about it? I hae aye dune whate’er ye bade me, and gaed to kirk whare’er
+ye likit on the Sundays, and fended weel for ye in the ilka days besides.
+And that’s what vexes me mair than a’ the rest, when I think how I am to
+fend for ye now in thae brickle times. I am no clear if I can pleugh ony
+place but the Mains and Mucklewhame, at least I never tried ony other
+grund, and it wadna come natural to me. And nae neighbouring heritors
+will daur to take us, after being turned aff thae bounds for
+non-enormity.”
+
+“Non-conformity, hinnie,” sighed Mause, “is the name that thae warldly
+men gie us.”
+
+“Weel, aweel--we’ll hae to gang to a far country, maybe twall or fifteen
+miles aff. I could be a dragoon, nae doubt, for I can ride and play wi’
+the broadsword a bit, but ye wad be roaring about your blessing and your
+grey hairs.” (Here Mause’s exclamations became extreme.) “Weel, weel, I
+but spoke o’t; besides, ye’re ower auld to be sitting cocked up on a
+baggage-waggon wi’ Eppie Dumblane, the corporal’s wife. Sae what’s to
+come o’ us I canna weel see--I doubt I’ll hae to tak the hills wi’ the
+wild whigs, as they ca’ them, and then it will be my lo to be shot down
+like a mawkin at some dikeside, or to be sent to heaven wi’ a Saint
+Johnstone’s tippit about my hause.”
+
+“O, my bonnie Cuddie,” said the zealous Mause, “forbear sic carnal,
+self-seeking language, whilk is just a misdoubting o’ Providence--I have
+not seen the son of the righteous begging his bread, sae says the text;
+and your father was a douce honest man, though somewhat warldly in his
+dealings, and cumbered about earthly things, e’en like yoursell, my jo!”
+
+“Aweel,” said Cuddie, after a little consideration, “I see but ae gate
+for’t, and that’s a cauld coal to blaw at, mither. Howsomever, mither, ye
+hae some guess o’ a wee bit kindness that’s atween Miss Edith and young
+Mr Henry Morton, that suld be ca’d young Milnwood, and that I hae whiles
+carried a bit book, or maybe a bit letter, quietly atween them, and made
+believe never to ken wha it cam frae, though I kend brawly. There’s
+whiles convenience in a body looking a wee stupid--and I have aften seen
+them walking at e’en on the little path by Dinglewood-burn; but naebody
+ever kend a word about it frae Cuddie; I ken I’m gay thick in the head,
+but I’m as honest as our auld fore-hand ox, puir fallow, that I’ll ne’er
+work ony mair--I hope they’ll be as kind to him that come ahint me as I
+hae been.--But, as I was saying, we’ll awa down to Milnwood and tell Mr
+Harry our distress They want a pleughman, and the grund’s no unlike our
+ain--I am sure Mr Harry will stand my part, for he’s a kind-hearted
+gentleman.--I’ll get but little penny-fee, for his uncle, auld Nippie
+Milnwood, has as close a grip as the deil himsell. But we’l, aye win a
+bit bread, and a drap kale, and a fire-side and theeking ower our heads,
+and that’s a’ we’ll want for a season.--Sae get up, mither, and sort your
+things to gang away; for since sae it is that gang we maun, I wad like
+ill to wait till Mr Harrison and auld Gudyill cam to pu’ us out by the
+lug and the horn.”
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+     The devil a puritan, or any thing else he is, but a time-server.
+                                                  Twelfth Night.
+
+It was evening when Mr Henry Morton perceived an old woman, wrapped in
+her tartan plaid, supported by a stout, stupid-looking fellow, in
+hoddin-grey, approach the house of Milnwood. Old Mause made her courtesy,
+but Cuddie took the lead in addressing Morton. Indeed, he had previously
+stipulated with his mother that he was to manage matters his own way; for
+though he readily allowed his general inferiority of understanding, and
+filially submitted to the guidance of his mother on most ordinary
+occasions, yet he said, “For getting a service, or getting forward in the
+warld, he could somegate gar the wee pickle sense he had gang muckle
+farther than hers, though she could crack like ony minister o’ them a’.”
+
+Accordingly, he thus opened the conversation with young Morton: “A braw
+night this for the rye, your honour; the west park will be breering
+bravely this e’en.”
+
+“I do not doubt it, Cuddie; but what can have brought your mother--this
+is your mother, is it not?” (Cuddie nodded.) “What can have brought your
+mother and you down the water so late?”
+
+“Troth, stir, just what gars the auld wives trot--neshessity, stir--I’m
+seeking for service, stir.”
+
+“For service, Cuddie, and at this time of the year? how comes that?”
+
+Mause could forbear no longer. Proud alike of her cause and her
+sufferings, she commenced with an affected humility of tone, “It has
+pleased Heaven, an it like your honour, to distinguish us by a
+visitation”--“Deil’s in the wife and nae gude!” whispered Cuddie to his
+mother, “an ye come out wi’ your whiggery, they’ll no daur open a door to
+us through the haill country!” Then aloud and addressing Morton, “My
+mother’s auld, stir, and she has rather forgotten hersell in speaking to
+my leddy, that canna weel bide to be contradickit, (as I ken nae-body
+likes it if they could help themsells,) especially by her ain folk,--and
+Mr Harrison the steward, and Gudyill the butler, they’re no very fond o’
+us, and it’s ill sitting at Rome and striving wi’ the Pope; sae I thought
+it best to flit before ill came to waur--and here’s a wee bit line to
+your honour frae a friend will maybe say some mair about it.”
+
+Morton took the billet, and crimsoning up to the ears, between joy and
+surprise, read these words: “If you can serve these poor helpless people,
+you will oblige E. B.”
+
+It was a few instants before he could attain composure enough to ask,
+“And what is your object, Cuddie? and how can I be of use to you?”
+
+“Wark, stir, wark, and a service, is my object--a bit beild for my mither
+and mysell--we hae gude plenishing o’ our ain, if we had the cast o’ a
+cart to bring it down--and milk and meal, and greens enow, for I’m gay
+gleg at meal-time, and sae is my mither, lang may it be sae--And, for the
+penny-fee and a’ that, I’ll just leave it to the laird and you. I ken
+ye’ll no see a poor lad wranged, if ye can help it.”
+
+Morton shook his head. “For the meat and lodging, Cuddie, I think I can
+promise something; but the penny-fee will be a hard chapter, I doubt.”
+
+“I’ll tak my chance o’t, stir,” replied the candidate for service,
+“rather than gang down about Hamilton, or ony sic far country.”
+
+“Well; step into the kitchen, Cuddie, and I’ll do what I can for you.”
+
+The negotiation was not without difficulties. Morton had first to bring
+over the housekeeper, who made a thousand objections, as usual, in order
+to have the pleasure of being besought and entreated; but, when she was
+gained over, it was comparatively easy to induce old Milnwood to accept
+of a servant, whose wages were to be in his own option. An outhouse was,
+therefore, assigned to Mause and her son for their habitation, and it was
+settled that they were for the time to be admitted to eat of the frugal
+fare provided for the family, until their own establishment should be
+completed. As for Morton, he exhausted his own very slender stock of
+money in order to make Cuddie such a present, under the name of arles, as
+might show his sense of the value of the recommendation delivered to him.
+
+“And now we’re settled ance mair,” said: Cuddie to his mother, “and if
+we’re no sae bien and comfortable as we were up yonder, yet life’s life
+ony gate, and we’re wi’ decent kirk-ganging folk o’ your ain persuasion,
+mither; there will be nae quarrelling about that.”
+
+“Of my persuasion, hinnie!” said the too-enlightened Mause; “wae’s me for
+thy blindness and theirs. O, Cuddie, they are but in the court of the
+Gentiles, and will ne’er win farther ben, I doubt; they are but little
+better than the prelatists themsells. They wait on the ministry of that
+blinded man, Peter Poundtext, ance a precious teacher of the Word, but
+now a backsliding pastor, that has, for the sake of stipend and family
+maintenance, forsaken the strict path, and gane astray after the black
+Indulgence. O, my son, had ye but profited by the gospel doctrines ye hae
+heard in the Glen of Bengonnar, frae the dear Richard Rumbleberry, that
+sweet youth, who suffered martyrdom in the Grassmarket, afore Candlemas!
+Didna ye hear him say, that Erastianism was as bad as Prelacy, and that
+the Indulgence was as bad as Erastianism?”
+
+“Heard ever ony body the like o’ this!” interrupted Cuddie; “we’ll be
+driven out o’ house and ha’ again afore we ken where to turn oursells.
+Weej, mither, I hae just ae word mair--An I hear ony mair o’ your
+din--afore folk, that is, for I dinna mind your clavers mysell, they aye
+set me sleeping--but if I hear ony mair din afore folk, as I was saying,
+about Poundtexts and Rumbleberries, and doctrines and malignants, I’se
+e’en turn a single sodger mysell, or maybe a sergeant or a captain, if ye
+plague me the mair, and let Rumbleberry and you gang to the deil
+thegither. I ne’er gat ony gude by his doctrine, as ye ca’t, but a sour
+fit o’ the batts wi’ sitting amang the wat moss-hags for four hours at a
+yoking, and the leddy cured me wi’ some hickery-pickery; mair by token,
+an she had kend how I came by the disorder, she wadna hae been in sic a
+hurry to mend it.”
+
+Although groaning in spirit over the obdurate and impenitent state, as
+she thought it, of her son Cuddie, Mause durst neither urge him farther
+on the topic, nor altogether neglect the warning he had given her. She
+knew the disposition of her deceased helpmate, whom this surviving pledge
+of their union greatly resembled, and remembered, that although
+submitting implicitly in most things to her boast of superior acuteness,
+he used on certain occasions, when driven to extremity, to be seized with
+fits of obstinacy, which neither remonstrance, flattery, nor threats,
+were capable of overpowering. Trembling, therefore, at the very
+possibility of Cuddie’s fulfilling his threat, she put a guard over her
+tongue, and even when Poundtext was commended in her presence, as an able
+and fructifying preacher, she had the good sense to suppress the
+contradiction which thrilled upon her tongue, and to express her
+sentiments no otherwise than by deep groans, which the hearers charitably
+construed to flow from a vivid recollection of the more pathetic parts of
+his homilies. How long she could have repressed her feelings it is
+difficult to say. An unexpected accident relieved her from the necessity.
+
+The Laird of Milnwood kept up all old fashions which were connected with
+economy. It was, therefore, still the custom in his house, as it had been
+universal in Scotland about fifty years before, that the domestics, after
+having placed the dinner on the table, sate down at the lower end of the
+board, and partook of the share which was assigned to them, in company
+with their masters. On the day, therefore, after Cuddie’s arrival, being
+the third from the opening of this narrative, old Robin, who was butler,
+valet-de-chambre, footman, gardener, and what not, in the house of
+Milnwood, placed on the table an immense charger of broth, thickened with
+oatmeal and colewort, in which ocean of liquid was indistinctly
+discovered, by close observers, two or three short ribs of lean mutton
+sailing to and fro. Two huge baskets, one of bread made of barley and
+pease, and one of oat-cakes, flanked this standing dish. A large boiled
+salmon would now-a-days have indicated more liberal house-keeping; but at
+that period salmon was caught in such plenty in the considerable rivers
+in Scotland, that instead of being accounted a delicacy, it was generally
+applied to feed the servants, who are said sometimes to have stipulated
+that they should not be required to eat a food so luscious and surfeiting
+in its quality above five times a-week. The large black jack, filled with
+very small beer of Milnwood’s own brewing, was allowed to the company at
+discretion, as were the bannocks, cakes, and broth; but the mutton was
+reserved for the heads of the family, Mrs Wilson included: and a measure
+of ale, somewhat deserving the name, was set apart in a silver tankard
+for their exclusive use. A huge kebbock, (a cheese, that is, made with
+ewemilk mixed with cow’s milk,) and a jar of salt butter, were in common
+to the company.
+
+To enjoy this exquisite cheer, was placed, at the head of the table, the
+old Laird himself, with his nephew on the one side, and the favourite
+housekeeper on the other. At a long interval, and beneath the salt of
+course, sate old Robin, a meagre, half-starved serving-man, rendered
+cross and cripple by rheumatism, and a dirty drab of a housemaid, whom
+use had rendered callous to the daily exercitations which her temper
+underwent at the hands of her master and Mrs Wilson. A barnman, a
+white-headed cow-herd boy, with Cuddie the new ploughman and his mother,
+completed the party. The other labourers belonging to the property
+resided in their own houses, happy at least in this, that if their cheer
+was not more delicate than that which we have described, they could eat
+their fill, unwatched by the sharp, envious grey eyes of Milnwood, which
+seemed to measure the quantity that each of his dependents swallowed, as
+closely as if their glances attended each mouthful in its progress from
+the lips to the stomach. This close inspection was unfavourable to
+Cuddie, who sustained much prejudice in his new master’s opinion, by the
+silent celerity with which he caused the victuals to disappear before
+him. And ever and anon Milnwood turned his eyes from the huge feeder to
+cast indignant glances upon his nephew, whose repugnance to rustic labour
+was the principal cause of his needing a ploughman, and who had been the
+direct means of his hiring this very cormorant.
+
+“Pay thee wages, quotha?” said Milnwood to himself,--“Thou wilt eat in a
+week the value of mair than thou canst work for in a month.”
+
+These disagreeable ruminations were interrupted by a loud knocking at the
+outer-gate. It was a universal custom in Scotland, that, when the family
+was at dinner, the outer-gate of the courtyard, if there was one, and if
+not, the door of the house itself, was always shut and locked, and only
+guests of importance, or persons upon urgent business, sought or received
+admittance at that time.
+
+     [Note:  Locking the Door during Dinner. The custom of keeping the
+     door of a house or chateau locked during the time of dinner,
+     probably arose from the family being anciently assembled in the hall
+     at that meal, and liable to surprise. But it was in many instances
+     continued as a point of high etiquette, of which the following is an
+     example:
+
+     A considerable landed proprietor in Dumfries-shire, being a
+     bachelor, without near relations, and determined to make his will,
+     resolved previously to visit his two nearest kinsmen, and decide
+     which should be his heir, according to the degree of kindness with
+     which he should be received. Like a good clansman, he first visited
+     his own chief, a baronet in rank, descendant and representative of
+     one of the oldest families in Scotland. Unhappily the dinner-bell
+     had rung, and the door of the castle had been locked before his
+     arrival. The visitor in vain announced his name and requested
+     admittance; but his chief adhered to the ancient etiquette, and
+     would on no account suffer the doors to be unbarred. Irritated at
+     this cold reception, the old Laird rode on to Sanquhar Castle, then
+     the residence of the Duke of Queensberry, who no sooner heard his
+     name, than, knowing well he had a will to make, the drawbridge
+     dropped, and the gates flew open--the table was covered anew--his
+     grace’s bachelor and intestate kinsman was received with the utmost
+     attention and respect; and it is scarcely necessary to add, that
+     upon his death some years after, the visitor’s considerable landed
+     property went to augment the domains of the Ducal House of
+     Queensberry. This happened about the end of the seventeenth
+     century.]
+
+The family of Milnwood were therefore surprised, and, in the unsettled
+state of the times, something alarmed, at the earnest and repeated
+knocking with which the gate was now assailed. Mrs Wilson ran in person
+to the door, and, having reconnoitred those who were so clamorous for
+admittance, through some secret aperture with which most Scottish
+door-ways were furnished for the express purpose, she returned wringing
+her hands in great dismay, exclaiming, “The red-coats! the red-coats!”
+
+“Robin--Ploughman--what ca’ they ye?--Barnsman--Nevoy Harry--open the
+door, open the door!” exclaimed old Milnwood, snatching up and slipping
+into his pocket the two or three silver spoons with which the upper end
+of the table was garnished, those beneath the salt being of goodly horn.
+“Speak them fair, sirs--Lord love ye, speak them fair--they winna bide
+thrawing--we’re a’ harried--we’re a’ harried!”
+
+While the servants admitted the troopers, whose oaths and threats already
+indicated resentment at the delay they had been put to, Cuddie took the
+opportunity to whisper to his mother, “Now, ye daft auld carline, mak
+yoursell deaf--ye hae made us a’ deaf ere now--and let me speak for ye. I
+wad like ill to get my neck raxed for an auld wife’s clashes, though ye
+be our mither.”
+
+“O, hinny, ay; I’se be silent or thou sall come to ill,” was the
+corresponding whisper of Mause “but bethink ye, my dear, them that deny
+the Word, the Word will deny”--Her admonition was cut short by the
+entrance of the Life-Guardsmen, a party of four troopers, commanded by
+Bothwell.
+
+In they tramped, making a tremendous clatter upon the stone-floor with
+the iron-shod heels of their large jack-boots, and the clash and clang of
+their long, heavy, basket-hilted broadswords. Milnwood and his
+housekeeper trembled, from well-grounded apprehensions of the system of
+exaction and plunder carried on during these domiciliary visits. Henry
+Morton was discomposed with more special cause, for he remembered that he
+stood answerable to the laws for having harboured Burley. The widow Mause
+Headrigg, between fear for her son’s life and an overstrained and
+enthusiastic zeal, which reproached her for consenting even tacitly to
+belie her religious sentiments, was in a strange quandary. The other
+servants quaked for they knew not well what. Cuddie alone, with the look
+of supreme indifference and stupidity which a Scottish peasant can at
+times assume as a mask for considerable shrewdness and craft, continued
+to swallow large spoonfuls of his broth, to command which he had drawn
+within his sphere the large vessel that contained it, and helped himself,
+amid the confusion, to a sevenfold portion.
+
+“What is your pleasure here, gentlemen?” said Milnwood, humbling himself
+before the satellites of power.
+
+“We come in behalf of the king,” answered Bothwell; “why the devil did
+you keep us so long standing at the door?”
+
+“We were at dinner,” answered Milnwood, “and the door was locked, as is
+usual in landward towns [Note: The Scots retain the use of the word town
+in its comprehensive Saxon meaning, as a place of habitation. A mansion
+or a farm house, though solitary, is called the town. A landward town is
+a dwelling situated in the country.] in this country. I am sure,
+gentlemen, if I had kend ony servants of our gude king had stood at the
+door--But wad ye please to drink some ale--or some brandy--or a cup of
+canary sack, or claret wine?” making a pause between each offer as long
+as a stingy bidder at an auction, who is loath to advance his offer for a
+favourite lot.
+
+“Claret for me,” said one fellow.
+
+“I like ale better,” said another, “provided it is right juice of John
+Barleycorn.”
+
+“Better never was malted,” said Milnwood; “I can hardly say sae muckle
+for the claret. It’s thin and cauld, gentlemen.”
+
+“Brandy will cure that,” said a third fellow; “a glass of brandy to three
+glasses of wine prevents the curmurring in the stomach.”
+
+“Brandy, ale, sack, and claret?--we’ll try them all,” said Bothwell, “and
+stick to that which is best. There’s good sense in that, if the damn’dest
+whig in Scotland had said it.”
+
+Hastily, yet with a reluctant quiver of his muscles, Milnwood lugged out
+two ponderous keys, and delivered them to the governante.
+
+“The housekeeper,” said Bothwell, taking a seat, and throwing himself
+upon it, “is neither so young nor so handsome as to tempt a man to follow
+her to the gauntrees, and devil a one here is there worth sending in her
+place.--What’s this?--meat?” (searching with a fork among the broth, and
+fishing up a cutlet of mutton)--“I think I could eat a bit--why, it’s as
+tough as if the devil’s dam had hatched it.”
+
+“If there is any thing better in the house, sir,” said Milnwood, alarmed
+at these symptoms of disapprobation--“No, no,” said Bothwell, “it’s not
+worth while, I must proceed to business.--You attend Poundtext, the
+presbyterian parson, I understand, Mr Morton?”
+
+Mr Morton hastened to slide in a confession and apology.
+
+“By the indulgence of his gracious majesty and the government, for I wad
+do nothing out of law--I hae nae objection whatever to the establishment
+of a moderate episcopacy, but only that I am a country-bred man, and the
+ministers are a hamelier kind of folk, and I can follow their doctrine
+better; and, with reverence, sir, it’s a mair frugal establishment for
+the country.”
+
+“Well, I care nothing about that,” said Bothwell; “they are indulged, and
+there’s an end of it; but, for my part, if I were to give the law, never
+a crop-ear’d cur of the whole pack should bark in a Scotch pulpit.
+However, I am to obey commands.--There comes the liquor; put it down, my
+good old lady.”
+
+He decanted about one-half of a quart bottle of claret into a wooden
+quaigh or bicker, and took it off at a draught.
+
+“You did your good wine injustice, my friend;--it’s better than your
+brandy, though that’s good too. Will you pledge me to the king’s health?”
+
+“With pleasure,” said Milnwood, “in ale,--but I never drink claret, and
+keep only a very little for some honoured friends.”
+
+“Like me, I suppose,” said Bothwell; and then, pushing the bottle to
+Henry, he said, “Here, young man, pledge you the king’s health.”
+
+Henry filled a moderate glass in silence, regardless of the hints and
+pushes of his uncle, which seemed to indicate that he ought to have
+followed his example, in preferring beer to wine.
+
+“Well,” said Bothwell, “have ye all drank the toast?--What is that old
+wife about? Give her a glass of brandy, she shall drink the king’s
+health, by”--“If your honour pleases,” said Cuddie, with great stolidity
+of aspect, “this is my mither, stir; and she’s as deaf as Corra-linn; we
+canna mak her hear day nor door; but if your honour pleases, I am ready
+to drink the king’s health for her in as mony glasses of brandy as ye
+think neshessary.”
+
+“I dare swear you are,” answered Bothwell; “you look like a fellow that
+would stick to brandy--help thyself, man; all’s free where’er I come.--
+Tom, help the maid to a comfortable cup, though she’s but a dirty jilt
+neither. Fill round once more--Here’s to our noble commander, Colonel
+Graham of Claverhouse!--What the devil is the old woman groaning for? She
+looks as very a whig as ever sate on a hill-side--Do you renounce the
+Covenant, good woman?”
+
+“Whilk Covenant is your honour meaning? Is it the Covenant of Works, or
+the Covenant of Grace?” said Cuddie, interposing.
+
+“Any covenant; all covenants that ever were hatched,” answered the
+trooper.
+
+“Mither,” cried Cuddie, affecting to speak as to a deaf person, “the
+gentleman wants to ken if ye will renunce the Covenant of Works?”
+
+“With all my heart, Cuddie,” said Mause, “and pray that my feet may be
+delivered from the snare thereof.”
+
+“Come,” said Bothwell, “the old dame has come more frankly off than I
+expected. Another cup round, and then we’ll proceed to business.--You
+have all heard, I suppose, of the horrid and barbarous murder committed
+upon the person of the Archbishop of St Andrews, by ten or eleven armed
+fanatics?”
+
+All started and looked at each other; at length Milnwood himself
+answered, “They had heard of some such misfortune, but were in hopes it
+had not been true.”
+
+“There is the relation published by government, old gentleman; what do
+you think of it?”
+
+“Think, sir? Wh--wh--whatever the council please to think of it,”
+ stammered Milnwood.
+
+“I desire to have your opinion more explicitly, my friend,” said the
+dragoon, authoritatively.
+
+Milnwood’s eyes hastily glanced through the paper to pick out the
+strongest expressions of censure with which it abounded, in gleaning
+which he was greatly aided by their being printed in italics.
+
+“I think it a--bloody and execrable--murder and parricide--devised by
+hellish and implacable cruelty--utterly abominable, and a scandal to the
+land.”
+
+“Well said, old gentleman!” said the querist--“Here’s to thee, and I wish
+you joy of your good principles. You owe me a cup of thanks for having
+taught you them; nay, thou shalt pledge me in thine own sack--sour ale
+sits ill upon a loyal stomach.--Now comes your turn, young man; what
+think you of the matter in hand?”
+
+“I should have little objection to answer you,” said Henry, “if I knew
+what right you had to put the question.”
+
+“The Lord preserve us!” said the old housekeeper, “to ask the like o’
+that at a trooper, when a’ folk ken they do whatever they like through
+the haill country wi’ man and woman, beast and body.”
+
+The old gentleman exclaimed, in the same horror at his nephew’s audacity,
+“Hold your peace, sir, or answer the gentleman discreetly. Do you mean to
+affront the king’s authority in the person of a sergeant of the
+Life-Guards?”
+
+“Silence, all of you!” exclaimed Bothwell, striking his hand fiercely on
+the table--“Silence, every one of you, and hear me!--You ask me for my
+right to examine you, sir (to Henry); my cockade and my broadsword are my
+commission, and a better one than ever Old Nol gave to his roundheads;
+and if you want to know more about it, you may look at the act of council
+empowering his majesty’s officers and soldiers to search for, examine,
+and apprehend suspicious persons; and, therefore, once more, I ask you
+your opinion of the death of Archbishop Sharpe--it’s a new touch-stone we
+have got for trying people’s metal.”
+
+Henry had, by this time, reflected upon the useless risk to which he
+would expose the family by resisting the tyrannical power which was
+delegated to such rude hands; he therefore read the narrative over, and
+replied, composedly, “I have no hesitation to say, that the perpetrators
+of this assassination have committed, in my opinion, a rash and wicked
+action, which I regret the more, as I foresee it will be made the cause
+of proceedings against many who are both innocent of the deed, and as far
+from approving it as myself.”
+
+While Henry thus expressed himself, Bothwell, who bent his eyes keenly
+upon him, seemed suddenly to recollect his features.
+
+“Aha! my friend Captain Popinjay, I think I have seen you before, and in
+very suspicious company.”
+
+“I saw you once,” answered Henry, “in the public-house of the town of--.”
+
+“And with whom did you leave that public-house, youngster?--Was it not
+with John Balfour of Burley, one of the murderers of the Archbishop?”
+
+“I did leave the house with the person you have named,” answered Henry,
+“I scorn to deny it; but, so far from knowing him to be a murderer of the
+primate, I did not even know at the time that such a crime had been
+committed.”
+
+“Lord have mercy on me, I am ruined!--utterly ruined and undone!”
+ exclaimed Milnwood. “That callant’s tongue will rin the head aff his ain
+shoulders, and waste my gudes to the very grey cloak on my back!”
+
+“But you knew Burley,” continued Bothwell, still addressing Henry, and
+regardless of his uncle’s interruption, “to be an intercommuned rebel and
+traitor, and you knew the prohibition to deal with such persons. You
+knew, that, as a loyal subject, you were prohibited to reset, supply, or
+intercommune with this attainted traitor, to correspond with him by word,
+writ, or message, or to supply him with meat, drink, house, harbour, or
+victual, under the highest pains--you knew all this, and yet you broke
+the law.” (Henry was silent.) “Where did you part from him?” continued
+Bothwell; “was it in the highway, or did you give him harbourage in this
+very house?”
+
+“In this house!” said his uncle; “he dared not for his neck bring ony
+traitor into a house of mine.”
+
+“Dare he deny that he did so?” said Bothwell.
+
+“As you charge it to me as a crime,” said Henry, “you will excuse my
+saying any thing that will criminate myself.”
+
+“O, the lands of Milnwood!--the bonny lands of Milnwood, that have been
+in the name of Morton twa hundred years!” exclaimed his uncle; “they are
+barking and fleeing, outfield and infield, haugh and holme!”
+
+“No, sir,” said Henry, “you shall not suffer on my account.--I own,” he
+continued, addressing Bothwell, “I did give this man a night’s lodging,
+as to an old military comrade of my father. But it was not only without
+my uncle’s knowledge, but contrary to his express general orders. I
+trust, if my evidence is considered as good against myself, it will have
+some weight in proving my uncle’s innocence.”
+
+“Come, young man,” said the soldier, in a somewhat milder tone, “you’re a
+smart spark enough, and I am sorry for you; and your uncle here is a fine
+old Trojan, kinder, I see, to his guests than himself, for he gives us
+wine and drinks his own thin ale--tell me all you know about this Burley,
+what he said when you parted from him, where he went, and where he is
+likely now to be found; and, d--n it, I’ll wink as hard on your share of
+the business as my duty will permit. There’s a thousand merks on the
+murdering whigamore’s head, an I could but light on it--Come, out with
+it--where did you part with him?”
+
+“You will excuse my answering that question, sir,” said Morton; “the same
+cogent reasons which induced me to afford him hospitality at considerable
+risk to myself and my friends, would command me to respect his secret,
+if, indeed, he had trusted me with any.”
+
+“So you refuse to give me an answer?” said Bothwell.
+
+“I have none to give,” returned Henry.
+
+“Perhaps I could teach you to find one, by tying a piece of lighted match
+betwixt your fingers,” answered Bothwell.
+
+“O, for pity’s sake, sir,” said old Alison apart to her master, “gie them
+siller--it’s siller they’re seeking--they’ll murder Mr Henry, and
+yoursell next!”
+
+Milnwood groaned in perplexity and bitterness of spirit, and, with a tone
+as if he was giving up the ghost, exclaimed, “If twenty p--p--punds would
+make up this unhappy matter”--“My master,” insinuated Alison to the
+sergeant, “would gie twenty punds sterling”--“Punds Scotch, ye b--h!”
+ interrupted Milnwood; for the agony of his avarice overcame alike his
+puritanic precision and the habitual respect he entertained for his
+housekeeper.
+
+“Punds sterling,” insisted the housekeeper, “if ye wad hae the gudeness
+to look ower the lad’s misconduct; he’s that dour ye might tear him to
+pieces, and ye wad ne’er get a word out o’ him; and it wad do ye little
+gude, I’m sure, to burn his bonny fingerends.”
+
+“Why,” said Bothwell, hesitating, “I don’t know--most of my cloth would
+have the money, and take off the prisoner too; but I bear a conscience,
+and if your master will stand to your offer, and enter into a bond to
+produce his nephew, and if all in the house will take the test-oath, I do
+not know but”--“O ay, ay, sir,” cried Mrs Wilson, “ony test, ony oaths ye
+please!” And then aside to her master, “Haste ye away, sir, and get the
+siller, or they will burn the house about our lugs.”
+
+Old Milnwood cast a rueful look upon his adviser, and moved off, like a
+piece of Dutch clockwork, to set at liberty his imprisoned angels in this
+dire emergency. Meanwhile, Sergeant Bothwell began to put the test-oath
+with such a degree of solemn reverence as might have been expected, being
+just about the same which is used to this day in his majesty’s
+custom-house.
+
+“You--what’s your name, woman?”
+
+“Alison Wilson, sir.”
+
+“You, Alison Wilson, solemnly swear, certify, and declare, that you judge
+it unlawful for subjects, under pretext of reformation, or any other
+pretext whatsoever, to enter into Leagues and Covenants”--Here the
+ceremony was interrupted by a strife between Cuddie and his mother,
+which, long conducted in whispers, now became audible.
+
+“Oh, whisht, mither, whisht! they’re upon a communing--Oh! whisht, and
+they’ll agree weel eneuch e’enow.”
+
+“I will not whisht, Cuddie,” replied his mother, “I will uplift my voice
+and spare not--I will confound the man of sin, even the scarlet man, and
+through my voice shall Mr Henry be freed from the net of the fowler.”
+
+“She has her leg ower the harrows now,” said Cuddie, “stop her wha can--I
+see her cocked up behint a dragoon on her way to the Tolbooth--I find my
+ain legs tied below a horse’s belly--Ay--she has just mustered up her
+sermon, and there--wi’ that grane--out it comes, and we are a’ruined,
+horse and foot!”
+
+“And div ye think to come here,” said Mause, her withered hand shaking in
+concert with her keen, though wrinkled visage, animated by zealous wrath,
+and emancipated, by the very mention of the test, from the restraints of
+her own prudence, and Cuddie’s admonition--“Div ye think to come here,
+wi’ your soul-killing, saint-seducing, conscience-confounding oaths, and
+tests, and bands--your snares, and your traps, and your gins?--Surely it
+is in vain that a net is spread in the sight of any bird.”
+
+“Eh! what, good dame?” said the soldier. “Here’s a whig miracle, egad!
+the old wife has got both her ears and tongue, and we are like to be
+driven deaf in our turn.--Go to, hold your peace, and remember whom you
+talk to, you old idiot.”
+
+“Whae do I talk to! Eh, sirs, ower weel may the sorrowing land ken what
+ye are. Malignant adherents ye are to the prelates, foul props to a
+feeble and filthy cause, bloody beasts of prey, and burdens to the
+earth.”
+
+“Upon my soul,” said Bothwell, astonished as a mastiff-dog might be
+should a hen-partridge fly at him in defence of her young, “this is the
+finest language I ever heard! Can’t you give us some more of it?”
+
+“Gie ye some mair o’t?” said Mause, clearing her voice with a preliminary
+cough, “I will take up my testimony against you ance and again.--
+Philistines ye are, and Edomites--leopards are ye, and foxes--evening
+wolves, that gnaw not the bones till the morrow--wicked dogs, that
+compass about the chosen--thrusting kine, and pushing bulls of
+Bashan--piercing serpents ye are, and allied baith in name and nature
+with the great Red Dragon; Revelations, twalfth chapter, third and
+fourth verses.”
+
+Here the old lady stopped, apparently much more from lack of breath than
+of matter.
+
+“Curse the old hag!” said one of the dragoons, “gag her, and take her to
+head-quarters.”
+
+“For shame, Andrews,” said Bothwell; “remember the good lady belongs to
+the fair sex, and uses only the privilege of her tongue.--But, hark ye,
+good woman, every bull of Bashan and Red Dragon will not be so civil as I
+am, or be contented to leave you to the charge of the constable and
+ducking-stool. In the meantime I must necessarily carry off this young
+man to head-quarters. I cannot answer to my commanding-officer to leave
+him in a house where I have heard so much treason and fanaticism.”
+
+“Se now, mither, what ye hae dune,” whispered Cuddie; “there’s the
+Philistines, as ye ca’ them, are gaun to whirry awa’ Mr Henry, and a’ wi’
+your nash-gab, deil be on’t!”
+
+“Haud yere tongue, ye cowardly loon,” said the mother, “and layna the
+wyte on me; if you and thae thowless gluttons, that are sitting staring
+like cows bursting on clover, wad testify wi’ your hands as I have
+testified wi’ my tongue, they should never harle the precious young lad
+awa’ to captivity.”
+
+While this dialogue passed, the soldiers had already bound and secured
+their prisoner. Milnwood returned at this instant, and, alarmed at the
+preparations he beheld, hastened to proffer to Bothwell, though with many
+a grievous groan, the purse of gold which he had been obliged to rummage
+out as ransom for his nephew. The trooper took the purse with an air of
+indifference, weighed it in his hand, chucked it up into the air, and
+caught it as it fell, then shook his head, and said, “There’s many a
+merry night in this nest of yellow boys, but d--n me if I dare venture
+for them--that old woman has spoken too loud, and before all the men
+too.--Hark ye, old gentleman,” to Milnwood, “I must take your nephew to
+head-quarters, so I cannot, in conscience, keep more than is my due as
+civility-money;” then opening the purse, he gave a gold piece to each of
+the soldiers, and took three to himself. “Now,” said he, “you have the
+comfort to know that your kinsman, young Captain Popinjay, will be
+carefully looked after and civilly used; and the rest of the money I
+return to you.”
+
+Milnwood eagerly extended his hand.
+
+“Only you know,” said Bothwell, still playing with the purse, “that every
+landholder is answerable for the conformity and loyalty of his household,
+and that these fellows of mine are not obliged to be silent on the
+subject of the fine sermon we have had from that old puritan in the
+tartan plaid there; and I presume you are aware that the consequences of
+delation will be a heavy fine before the council.”
+
+“Good sergeant,--worthy captain!” exclaimed the terrified miser, “I am
+sure there is no person in my house, to my knowledge, would give cause of
+offence.”
+
+“Nay,” answered Bothwell, “you shall hear her give her testimony, as she
+calls it, herself.--You fellow,” (to Cuddie,) “stand back, and let your
+mother speak her mind. I see she’s primed and loaded again since her
+first discharge.”
+
+“Lord! noble sir,” said Cuddie, “an auld wife’s tongue’s but a feckless
+matter to mak sic a fash about. Neither my father nor me ever minded
+muckle what our mither said.”
+
+“Hold your peace, my lad, while you are well,” said Bothwell; “I promise
+you I think you are slyer than you would like to be supposed.--Come, good
+dame, you see your master will not believe that you can give us so bright
+a testimony.”
+
+Mause’s zeal did not require this spur to set her again on full career.
+
+“Woe to the compliers and carnal self-seekers,” she said, “that daub over
+and drown their consciences by complying with wicked exactions, and
+giving mammon of unrighteousness to the sons of Belial, that it may make
+their peace with them! It is a sinful compliance, a base confederacy with
+the Enemy. It is the evil that Menahem did in the sight of the Lord, when
+he gave a thousand talents to Pul, King of Assyria, that his hand might
+be with him; Second Kings, feifteen chapter, nineteen verse. It is the
+evil deed of Ahab, when he sent money to Tiglath-Peleser; see the saame
+Second Kings, saxteen and aught. And if it was accounted a backsliding
+even in godly Hezekiah, that he complied with Sennacherib, giving him
+money, and offering to bear that which was put upon him, (see the saame
+Second Kings, aughteen chapter, fourteen and feifteen verses,) even so it
+is with them that in this contumacious and backsliding generation pays
+localities and fees, and cess and fines, to greedy and unrighteous
+publicans, and extortions and stipends to hireling curates, (dumb dogs
+which bark not, sleeping, lying down, loving to slumber,) and gives gifts
+to be helps and hires to our oppressors and destroyers. They are all like
+the casters of a lot with them--like the preparing of a table for the
+troop, and the furnishing a drink-offering to the number.”
+
+“There’s a fine sound of doctrine for you, Mr Morton! How like you that?”
+ said Bothwell; “or how do you think the Council will like it? I think we
+can carry the greatest part of it in our heads without a kylevine pen and
+a pair of tablets, such as you bring to conventicles. She denies paying
+cess, I think, Andrews?”
+
+“Yes, by G--,” said Andrews; “and she swore it was a sin to give a
+trooper a pot of ale, or ask him to sit down to a table.”
+
+“You hear,” said Bothwell, addressing Milnwood; “but it’s your own
+affair;” and he proffered back the purse with its diminished contents,
+with an air of indifference.
+
+Milnwood, whose head seemed stunned by the accumulation of his
+misfortunes, extended his hand mechanically to take the purse.
+
+“Are ye mad?” said his housekeeper, in a whisper; “tell them to keep
+it;--they will keep it either by fair means or foul, and it’s our only
+chance to make them quiet.”
+
+“I canna do it, Ailie--I canna do it,” said Milnwood, in the bitterness
+of his heart. “I canna part wi’ the siller I hae counted sae often ower,
+to thae blackguards.”
+
+“Then I maun do it mysell, Milnwood,” said the housekeeper, “or see a’
+gang wrang thegither.--My master, sir,” she said, addressing Bothwell,
+“canna think o’ taking back ony thing at the hand of an honourable
+gentleman like you; he implores ye to pit up the siller, and be as kind
+to his nephew as ye can, and be favourable in reporting our dispositions
+to government, and let us tak nae wrang for the daft speeches of an auld
+jaud,” (here she turned fiercely upon Mause, to indulge herself for the
+effort which it cost her to assume a mild demeanour to the soldiers,) “a
+daft auld whig randy, that ne’er was in the house (foul fa’ her) till
+yesterday afternoon, and that sall ne’er cross the door-stane again an
+anes I had her out o’t.”
+
+“Ay, ay,” whispered Cuddie to his parent, “e’en sae! I kend we wad be put
+to our travels again whene’er ye suld get three words spoken to an end. I
+was sure that wad be the upshot o’t, mither.”
+
+“Whisht, my bairn,” said she, “and dinna murmur at the cross--cross their
+door-stane! weel I wot I’ll ne’er cross their door-stane. There’s nae
+mark on their threshold for a signal that the destroying angel should
+pass by. They’ll get a back-cast o’ his hand yet, that think sae muckle
+o’ the creature and sae little o’ the Creator--sae muckle o’ warld’s gear
+and sae little o’ a broken covenant--sae muckle about thae wheen pieces
+o’ yellow muck, and sae little about the pure gold o’ the Scripture--sae
+muckle about their ain friend and kinsman, and sae little about the
+elect, that are tried wi’ hornings, harassings, huntings, searchings,
+chasings, catchings, imprisonments, torturings, banishments, headings,
+hangings, dismemberings, and quarterings quick, forby the hundreds forced
+from their ain habitations to the deserts, mountains, muirs, mosses,
+moss-flows, and peat-hags, there to hear the word like bread eaten in
+secret.”
+
+“She’s at the Covenant now, sergeant, shall we not have her away?” said
+one of the soldiers.
+
+“You be d--d!” said Bothwell, aside to him; “cannot you see she’s better
+where she is, so long as there is a respectable, sponsible, money-broking
+heritor, like Mr Morton of Milnwood, who has the means of atoning her
+trespasses? Let the old mother fly to raise another brood, she’s too
+tough to be made any thing of herself--Here,” he cried, “one other round
+to Milnwood and his roof-tree, and to our next merry meeting with
+him!--which I think will not be far distant, if he keeps such a fanatical
+family.”
+
+He then ordered the party to take their horses, and pressed the best in
+Milnwood’s stable into the king’s service to carry the prisoner. Mrs
+Wilson, with weeping eyes, made up a small parcel of necessaries for
+Henry’s compelled journey, and as she bustled about, took an opportunity,
+unseen by the party, to slip into his hand a small sum of money. Bothwell
+and his troopers, in other respects, kept their promise, and were civil.
+They did not bind their prisoner, but contented themselves with leading
+his horse between a file of men. They then mounted, and marched off with
+much mirth and laughter among themselves, leaving the Milnwood family in
+great confusion. The old Laird himself, overpowered by the loss of his
+nephew, and the unavailing outlay of twenty pounds sterling, did nothing
+the whole evening but rock himself backwards and forwards in his great
+leathern easy-chair, repeating the same lamentation, of “Ruined on a’
+sides, ruined on a’ sides--harried and undone--harried and undone--body
+and gudes, body and gudes!”
+
+Mrs Alison Wilson’s grief was partly indulged and partly relieved by the
+torrent of invectives with which she accompanied Mause and Cuddie’s
+expulsion from Milnwood.
+
+“Ill luck be in the graning corse o’ thee! the prettiest lad in
+Clydesdale this day maun be a sufferer, and a’ for you and your daft
+whiggery!”
+
+“Gae wa’,” replied Mause; “I trow ye are yet in the bonds of sin, and in
+the gall of iniquity, to grudge your bonniest and best in the cause of
+Him that gave ye a’ ye hae--I promise I hae dune as muckle for Mr Harry
+as I wad do for my ain; for if Cuddie was found worthy to bear testimony
+in the Grassmarket”--“And there’s gude hope o’t,” said Alison, “unless
+you and he change your courses.”
+
+“--And if,” continued Mause, disregarding the interruption, “the bloody
+Doegs and the flattering Ziphites were to seek to ensnare me with a
+proffer of his remission upon sinful compliances, I wad persevere,
+natheless, in lifting my testimony against popery, prelacy,
+antinomianism, erastianism, lapsarianism, sublapsarianism, and the sins
+and snares of the times--I wad cry as a woman in labour against the black
+Indulgence, that has been a stumbling-block to professors--I wad uplift
+my voice as a powerful preacher.”
+
+“Hout tout, mither,” cried Cuddie, interfering and dragging her off
+forcibly, “dinna deave the gentlewoman wi’ your testimony! ye hae
+preached eneugh for sax days. Ye preached us out o’ our canny free-house
+and gude kale-yard, and out o’ this new city o’ refuge afore our hinder
+end was weel hafted in it; and ye hae preached Mr Harry awa to the
+prison; and ye hae preached twenty punds out o’ the Laird’s pocket that
+he likes as ill to quit wi’; and sae ye may haud sae for ae wee while,
+without preaching me up a ladder and down a tow. Sae, come awa, come awa;
+the family hae had eneugh o’ your testimony to mind it for ae while.”
+
+So saying he dragged off Mause, the words,
+“Testimony--Covenant--malignants--indulgence,” still thrilling upon her
+tongue, to make preparations for instantly renewing their travels in
+quest of an asylum.
+
+“Ill-fard, crazy, crack-brained gowk, that she is!” exclaimed the
+housekeeper, as she saw them depart, “to set up to be sae muckle better
+than ither folk, the auld besom, and to bring sae muckle distress on a
+douce quiet family! If it hadna been that I am mair than half a
+gentlewoman by my station, I wad hae tried my ten nails in the wizen’d
+hide o’ her!”
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+          I am a son of Mars who have been in many wars,
+          And show my cuts and scars wherever I come;
+          This here was for a wench, and that other in a trench,
+          When welcoming the French at the sound of the drum.
+                                                            Burns.
+
+“Don’t be too much cast down,” said Sergeant Bothwell to his prisoner as
+they journeyed on towards the head-quarters; “you are a smart pretty lad,
+and well connected; the worst that will happen will be strapping up for
+it, and that is many an honest fellow’s lot. I tell you fairly your
+life’s within the compass of the law, unless you make submission, and get
+off by a round fine upon your uncle’s estate; he can well afford it.”
+
+“That vexes me more than the rest,” said Henry. “He parts with his money
+with regret; and, as he had no concern whatever with my having given this
+person shelter for a night, I wish to Heaven, if I escape a capital
+punishment, that the penalty may be of a kind I could bear in my own
+person.”
+
+“Why, perhaps,” said Bothwell, “they will propose to you to go into one
+of the Scotch regiments that are serving abroad. It’s no bad line of
+service; if your friends are active, and there are any knocks going, you
+may soon get a commission.”
+
+“I am by no means sure,” answered Morton, “that such a sentence is not
+the best thing that can happen to me.”
+
+“Why, then, you are no real whig after all?” said the sergeant.
+
+“I have hitherto meddled with no party in the state,” said Henry, “but
+have remained quietly at home; and sometimes I have had serious thoughts
+of joining one of our foreign regiments.”
+
+“Have you?” replied Bothwell; “why, I honour you for it; I have served in
+the Scotch French guards myself many a long day; it’s the place for
+learning discipline, d--n me. They never mind what you do when you are
+off duty; but miss you the roll-call, and see how they’ll arrange
+you--D--n me, if old Captain Montgomery didn’t make me mount guard upon
+the arsenal in my steel-back and breast, plate-sleeves and head-piece,
+for six hours at once, under so burning a sun, that gad I was baked like
+a turtle at Port Royale. I swore never to miss answering to Francis
+Stewart again, though I should leave my hand of cards upon the
+drum-head--Ah! discipline is a capital thing.”
+
+“In other respects you liked the service?” said Morton,
+
+“Par excellence,” said Bothwell; “women, wine, and wassail, all to be had
+for little but the asking; and if you find it in your conscience to let a
+fat priest think he has some chance to convert you, gad he’ll help you to
+these comforts himself, just to gain a little ground in your good
+affection. Where will you find a crop-eared whig parson will be so
+civil?”
+
+“Why, nowhere, I agree with you,” said Henry; “but what was your chief
+duty?”
+
+“To guard the king’s person,” said Bothwell, “to look after the safety of
+Louis le Grand, my boy, and now and then to take a turn among the
+Huguenots (protestants, that is.) And there we had fine scope; it brought
+my hand pretty well in for the service in this country. But, come, as you
+are to be a bon camerado, as the Spaniards say, I must put you in cash
+with some of your old uncle’s broad-pieces. This is cutter’s law; we must
+not see a pretty fellow want, if we have cash ourselves.”
+
+Thus speaking, he pulled out his purse, took out some of the contents,
+and offered them to Henry without counting them. Young Morton declined
+the favour; and, not judging it prudent to acquaint the sergeant,
+notwithstanding his apparent generosity, that he was actually in
+possession of some money, he assured him he should have no difficulty in
+getting a supply from his uncle.
+
+“Well,” said Bothwell, “in that case these yellow rascals must serve to
+ballast my purse a little longer. I always make it a rule never to quit
+the tavern (unless ordered on duty) while my purse is so weighty that I
+can chuck it over the signpost. [Note: A Highland laird, whose
+peculiarities live still in the recollection of his countrymen, used to
+regulate his residence at Edinburgh in the following manner: Every day he
+visited the Water-gate, as it is called, of the Canongate, over which is
+extended a wooden arch. Specie being then the general currency, he threw
+his purse over the gate, and as long as it was heavy enough to be thrown
+over, he continued his round of pleasure in the metropolis; when it was
+too light, he thought it time to retire to the Highlands. Query--How
+often would he have repeated this experiment at Temple Bar?] When it is
+so light that the wind blows it back, then, boot and saddle,--we must
+fall on some way of replenishing.--But what tower is that before us,
+rising so high upon the steep bank, out of the woods that surround it on
+every side?”
+
+“It is the tower of Tillietudlem,” said one of the soldiers. “Old Lady
+Margaret Bellenden lives there. She’s one of the best affected women in
+the country, and one that’s a soldier’s friend. When I was hurt by one of
+the d--d whig dogs that shot at me from behind a fauld-dike, I lay a
+month there, and would stand such another wound to be in as good quarters
+again.”
+
+“If that be the case,” said Bothwell, “I will pay my respects to her as
+we pass, and request some refreshment for men and horses; I am as thirsty
+already as if I had drunk nothing at Milnwood. But it is a good thing in
+these times,” he continued, addressing himself to Henry, “that the King’s
+soldier cannot pass a house without getting a refreshment. In such houses
+as Tillie--what d’ye call it? you are served for love; in the houses of
+the avowed fanatics you help yourself by force; and among the moderate
+presbyterians and other suspicious persons, you are well treated from
+fear; so your thirst is always quenched on some terms or other.”
+
+“And you purpose,” said Henry, anxiously, “to go upon that errand up to
+the tower younder?”
+
+“To be sure I do,” answered Bothwell. “How should I be able to report
+favourably to my officers of the worthy lady’s sound principles, unless I
+know the taste of her sack, for sack she will produce--that I take for
+granted; it is the favourite consoler of your old dowager of quality, as
+small claret is the potation of your country laird.”
+
+“Then, for heaven’s sake,” said Henry, “if you are determined to go
+there, do not mention my name, or expose me to a family that I am
+acquainted with. Let me be muffled up for the time in one of your
+soldier’s cloaks, and only mention me generally as a prisoner under your
+charge.”
+
+“With all my heart,” said Bothwell; “I promised to use you civilly, and I
+scorn to break my word.--Here, Andrews, wrap a cloak round the prisoner,
+and do not mention his name, nor where we caught him, unless you would
+have a trot on a horse of wood.”
+
+     [Note:  Wooden Mare. The punishment of riding the wooden mare was,
+     in the days of Charles and long after, one of the various and cruel
+     modes of enforcing military discipline. In front of the old
+     guard-house in the High Street of Edinburgh, a large horse of this
+     kind was placed, on which now and then, in the more ancient times, a
+     veteran might be seen mounted, with a firelock tied to each foot,
+     atoning for some small offence.
+
+     There is a singular work, entitled Memoirs of Prince William Henry,
+     Duke of Gloucester, (son of Queen Anne,) from his birth to his ninth
+     year, in which Jenkin Lewis, an honest Welshman in attendance on the
+     royal infant’s person, is pleased to record that his Royal Highness
+     laughed, cried, crow’d, and said Gig and Dy, very like a babe of
+     plebeian descent. He had also a premature taste for the discipline
+     as well as the show of war, and had a corps of twenty-two boys,
+     arrayed with paper caps and wooden swords. For the maintenance of
+     discipline in this juvenile corps, a wooden horse was established in
+     the Presence-chamber, and was sometimes employed in the punishment
+     of offences not strictly military. Hughes, the Duke’s tailor, having
+     made him a suit of clothes which were too tight, was appointed, in
+     an order of the day issued by the young prince, to be placed on this
+     penal steed. The man of remnants, by dint of supplication and
+     mediation, escaped from the penance, which was likely to equal the
+     inconveniences of his brother artist’s equestrian trip to Brentford.
+     But an attendant named Weatherly, who had presumed to bring the
+     young Prince a toy, (after he had discarded the use of them,) was
+     actually mounted on the wooden horse without a saddle, with his face
+     to the tail, while he was plied by four servants of the household
+     with syringes and squirts, till he had a thorough wetting. “He was a
+     waggish fellow,” says Lewis, “and would not lose any thing for the
+     joke’s sake when he was putting his tricks upon others, so he was
+     obliged to submit cheerfully to what was inflicted upon him, being
+     at our mercy to play him off well, which we did accordingly.” Amid
+     much such nonsense, Lewis’s book shows that this poor child, the
+     heir of the British monarchy, who died when he was eleven years old,
+     was, in truth, of promising parts, and of a good disposition. The
+     volume, which rarely occurs, is an octavo, published in 1789, the
+     editor being Dr Philip Hayes of Oxford.]
+
+They were at this moment at an arched gateway, battlemented and flanked
+with turrets, one whereof was totally ruinous, excepting the lower story,
+which served as a cow-house to the peasant, whose family inhabited the
+turret that remained entire. The gate had been broken down by Monk’s
+soldiers during the civil war, and had never been replaced, therefore
+presented no obstacle to Bothwell and his party. The avenue, very steep
+and narrow, and causewayed with large round stones, ascended the side of
+the precipitous bank in an oblique and zigzag course, now showing now
+hiding a view of the tower and its exterior bulwarks, which seemed to
+rise almost perpendicularly above their heads. The fragments of Gothic
+defences which it exhibited were upon such a scale of strength, as
+induced Bothwell to exclaim, “It’s well this place is in honest and loyal
+hands. Egad, if the enemy had it, a dozen of old whigamore wives with
+their distaffs might keep it against a troop of dragoons, at least if
+they had half the spunk of the old girl we left at Milnwood. Upon my
+life,” he continued, as they came in front of the large double tower and
+its surrounding defences and flankers, “it is a superb place, founded,
+says the worn inscription over the gate--unless the remnant of my Latin
+has given me the slip--by Sir Ralph de Bellenden in 1350--a respectable
+antiquity. I must greet the old lady with due honour, though it should
+put me to the labour of recalling some of the compliments that I used to
+dabble in when I was wont to keep that sort of company.”
+
+As he thus communed with himself, the butler, who had reconnoitred the
+soldiers from an arrowslit in the wall, announced to his lady, that a
+commanded party of dragoons, or, as he thought, Life-Guardsmen, waited at
+the gate with a prisoner under their charge.
+
+“I am certain,” said Gudyill, “and positive, that the sixth man is a
+prisoner; for his horse is led, and the two dragoons that are before have
+their carabines out of their budgets, and rested upon their thighs. It
+was aye the way we guarded prisoners in the days of the great Marquis.”
+
+“King’s soldiers?” said the lady; “probably in want of refreshment. Go,
+Gudyill, make them welcome, and let them be accommodated with what
+provision and forage the Tower can afford.--And stay, tell my gentlewoman
+to bring my black scarf and manteau. I will go down myself to receive
+them; one cannot show the King’s Life-Guards too much respect in times
+when they are doing so much for royal authority. And d’ye hear, Gudyill,
+let Jenny Dennison slip on her pearlings to walk before my niece and me,
+and the three women to walk behind; and bid my niece attend me
+instantly.”
+
+Fully accoutred, and attended according to her directions, Lady Margaret
+now sailed out into the court-yard of her tower with great courtesy and
+dignity. Sergeant Bothwell saluated the grave and reverend lady of the
+manor with an assurance which had something of the light and careless
+address of the dissipated men of fashion in Charles the Second’s time,
+and did not at all savour of the awkward or rude manners of a
+non-commissioned officer of dragoons. His language, as well as his
+manners, seemed also to be refined for the time and occasion; though the
+truth was, that, in the fluctuations of an adventurous and profligate
+life, Bothwell had sometimes kept company much better suited to his
+ancestry than to his present situation of life. To the lady’s request to
+know whether she could be of service to them, he answered, with a
+suitable bow, “That as they had to march some miles farther that night,
+they would be much accommodated by permission to rest their horses for an
+hour before continuing their journey.”
+
+“With the greatest pleasure,” answered Lady Margaret; “and I trust that
+my people will see that neither horse nor men want suitable refreshment.”
+
+“We are well aware, madam,” continued Bothwell, “that such has always
+been the reception, within the walls of Tillietudlem, of those who served
+the King.”
+
+“We have studied to discharge our duty faithfully and loyally on all
+occasions, sir,” answered Lady Margaret, pleased with the compliment,
+“both to our monarchs and to their followers, particularly to their
+faithful soldiers. It is not long ago, and it probably has not escaped
+the recollection of his sacret majesty, now on the throne, since he
+himself honoured my poor house with his presence and breakfasted in a
+room in this castle, Mr Sergeant, which my waiting-gentlewoman shall show
+you; we still call it the King’s room.”
+
+Bothwell had by this time dismounted his party, and committed the horses
+to the charge of one file, and the prisoner to that of another; so that
+he himself was at liberty to continue the conversation which the lady had
+so condescendingly opened.
+
+“Since the King, my master, had the honour to experience your
+hospitality, I cannot wonder that it is extended to those that serve him,
+and whose principal merit is doing it with fidelity. And yet I have a
+nearer relation to his majesty than this coarse red coat would seem to
+indicate.”
+
+“Indeed, sir? Probably,” said Lady Margaret, “you have belonged to his
+household?”
+
+“Not exactly, madam, to his household, but rather to his house; a
+connexion through which I may claim kindred with most of the best
+families in Scotland, not, I believe, exclusive of that of Tillietudlem.”
+
+“Sir?” said the old lady, drawing herself up with dignity at hearing what
+she conceived an impertinent jest, “I do not understand you.”
+
+“It’s but a foolish subject for one in my situation to talk of, madam,”
+ answered the trooper; “but you must have heard of the history and
+misfortunes of my grandfather Francis Stewart, to whom James I., his
+cousin-german, gave the title of Bothwell, as my comrades give me the
+nickname. It was not in the long run more advantageous to him than it is
+to me.”
+
+“Indeed?” said Lady Margaret, with much sympathy and surprise; “I have
+indeed always understood that the grandson of the last Earl was in
+necessitous circumstances, but I should never have expected to see him so
+low in the service. With such connexions, what ill fortune could have
+reduced you”--
+
+“Nothing much out of the ordinary course, I believe, madam,” said
+Bothwell, interrupting and anticipating the question. “I have had my
+moments of good luck like my neighbours--have drunk my bottle with
+Rochester, thrown a merry main with Buckingham, and fought at Tangiers
+side by side with Sheffield. But my luck never lasted; I could not make
+useful friends out of my jolly companions--Perhaps I was not sufficiently
+aware,” he continued, with some bitterness, “how much the descendant of
+the Scottish Stewarts was honoured by being admitted into the
+convivialities of Wilmot and Villiers.”
+
+“But your Scottish friends, Mr Stewart, your relations here, so numerous
+and so powerful?”
+
+“Why, ay, my lady,” replied the sergeant, “I believe some of them might
+have made me their gamekeeper, for I am a tolerable shot--some of them
+would have entertained me as their bravo, for I can use my sword
+well--and here and there was one, who, when better company was not to
+be had, would have made me his companion, since I can drink my three
+bottles of wine.--But I don’t know how it is--between service and
+service among my kinsmen, I prefer that of my cousin Charles as the most
+creditable of them all, although the pay is but poor, and the livery far
+from splendid.”
+
+“It is a shame, it is a burning scandal!” said Lady Margaret. “Why do you
+not apply to his most sacred majesty? he cannot but be surprised to hear
+that a scion of his august family”--
+
+“I beg your pardon, madam,” interrupted the sergeant, “I am but a blunt
+soldier, and I trust you will excuse me when I say, his most sacred
+majesty is more busy in grafting scions of his own, than with nourishing
+those which were planted by his grandfather’s grandfather.”
+
+“Well, Mr Stewart,” said Lady Margaret, “one thing you must promise
+me--remain at Tillietudlem to-night; to-morrow I expect your
+commanding-officer, the gallant Claverhouse, to whom king and country
+are so much obliged for his exertions against those who would turn the
+world upside down. I will speak to him on the subject of your speedy
+promotion; and I am certain he feels too much, both what is due to the
+blood which is in your veins, and to the request of a lady so highly
+distinguished as myself by his most sacred majesty, not to make better
+provision for you than you have yet received.”
+
+“I am much obliged to your ladyship, and I certainly will remain her with
+my prisoner, since you request it, especially as it will be the earliest
+way of presenting him to Colonel Grahame, and obtaining his ultimate
+orders about the young spark.”
+
+“Who is your prisoner, pray you?” said Lady Margaret.
+
+“A young fellow of rather the better class in this neighbourhood, who has
+been so incautious as to give countenance to one of the murderers of the
+primate, and to facilitate the dog’s escape.”
+
+“O, fie upon him!” said Lady Margaret; “I am but too apt to forgive the
+injuries I have received at the hands of these rogues, though some of
+them, Mr Stewart, are of a kind not like to be forgotten; but those who
+would abet the perpetrators of so cruel and deliberate a homicide on a
+single man, an old man, and a man of the Archbishop’s sacred
+profession--O fie upon him! If you wish to make him secure, with little
+trouble to your people, I will cause Harrison, or Gudyill, look for the
+key of our pit, or principal dungeon. It has not been open since the
+week after the victory of Kilsythe, when my poor Sir Arthur Bellenden
+put twenty whigs into it; but it is not more than two stories beneath
+ground, so it cannot be unwholesome, especially as I rather believe
+there is somewhere an opening to the outer air.”
+
+“I beg your pardon, madam,” answered the sergeant; “I daresay the dungeon
+is a most admirable one; but I have promised to be civil to the lad, and
+I will take care he is watched, so as to render escape impossible. I’ll
+set those to look after him shall keep him as fast as if his legs were in
+the boots, or his fingers in the thumbikins.”
+
+“Well, Mr Stewart,” rejoined the lady, “you best know your own duty. I
+heartily wish you good evening, and commit you to the care of my steward,
+Harrison. I would ask you to keep ourselves company, but a--a--a--”
+
+“O, madam, it requires no apology; I am sensible the coarse red coat of
+King Charles II. does and ought to annihilate the privileges of the red
+blood of King James V.”
+
+“Not with me, I do assure you, Mr Stewart; you do me injustice if you
+think so. I will speak to your officer to-morrow; and I trust you shall
+soon find yourself in a rank where there shall be no anomalies to be
+reconciled.”
+
+“I believe, madam,” said Bothwell, “your goodness will find itself
+deceived; but I am obliged to you for your intention, and, at all events,
+I will have a merry night with Mr Harrison.”
+
+Lady Margaret took a ceremonious leave, with all the respect which she
+owed to royal blood, even when flowing in the veins of a sergeant of the
+Life-Guards; again assuring Mr Stewart, that whatever was in the Tower of
+Tillietudlem was heartily at his service and that of his attendants.
+
+Sergeant Bothwell did not fail to take the lady at her word, and readily
+forgot the height from which his family had descended, in a joyous
+carousal, during which Mr Harrison exerted himself to produce the best
+wine in the cellar, and to excite his guest to be merry by that seducing
+example, which, in matters of conviviality, goes farther than precept.
+Old Gudyill associated himself with a party so much to his taste, pretty
+much as Davy, in the Second Part of Henry the Fourth, mingles in the
+revels of his master, Justice Shallow. He ran down to the cellar at the
+risk of breaking his neck, to ransack some private catacomb, known, as he
+boasted, only to himself, and which never either had, or should, during
+his superintendence, renden forth a bottle of its contents to any one but
+a real king’s friend.
+
+“When the Duke dined here,” said the butler, seating himself at a
+distance from the table, being somewhat overawed by Bothwell’s genealogy,
+but yet hitching his seat half a yard nearer at every clause of his
+speech, “my leddy was importunate to have a bottle of that
+Burgundy,”--(here he advanced his seat a little,)--“but I dinna ken how
+it was, Mr Stewart, I misdoubted him. I jaloused him, sir, no to be the
+friend to government he pretends: the family are not to lippen to. That
+auld Duke James lost his heart before he lost his head; and the
+Worcester man was but wersh parritch, neither gude to fry, boil, nor sup
+cauld.” (With this witty observation, he completed his first parallel,
+and commenced a zigzag after the manner of an experienced engineer, in
+order to continue his approaches to the table.) “Sae, sir, the faster my
+leddy cried ‘Burgundy to his Grace--the auld Burgundy--the choice
+Burgundy--the Burgundy that came ower in the thirty-nine’--the mair did
+I say to mysell, Deil a drap gangs down his hause unless I was mair
+sensible o’ his principles; sack and claret may serve him. Na, na,
+gentlemen, as lang as I hae the trust o’butler in this house
+o’Tillietudlem, I’ll tak it upon me to see that nae disloyal or doubtfu’
+person is the better o’ our binns. But when I can find a true friend to
+the king and his cause, and a moderate episcopacy; when I find a man, as
+I say, that will stand by church and crown as I did mysell in my
+master’s life, and all through Montrose’s time, I think there’s naething
+in the cellar ower gude to be spared on him.”
+
+By this time he had completed a lodgment in the body of the place, or, in
+other words, advanced his seat close to the table.
+
+“And now, Mr Francis Stewart of Bothwell, I have the honour to drink your
+gude health, and a commission t’ye, and much luck may ye have in raking
+this country clear o’whigs and roundheads, fanatics and Covenanters.”
+
+Bothwell, who, it may well be believed, had long ceased to be very
+scrupulous in point of society, which he regulated more by his
+convenience and station in life than his ancestry, readily answered the
+butler’s pledge, acknowledging, at the same time, the excellence of the
+wine; and Mr Gudyill, thus adopted a regular member of the company,
+continued to furnish them with the means of mirth until an early hour in
+the next morning.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+               Did I but purpose to embark with thee
+               On the smooth surface of a summer sea,
+               And would forsake the skiff and make the shore
+               When the winds whistle and the tempests roar?
+                                                  Prior.
+
+While Lady Margaret held, with the high-descended sergeant of dragoons,
+the conference which we have detailed in the preceding pages, her
+grand-daughter, partaking in a less degree her ladyship’s enthusiasm for
+all who were sprung of the blood-royal, did not honour Sergeant Bothwell
+with more attention than a single glance, which showed her a tall
+powerful person, and a set of hardy weather-beaten features, to which
+pride and dissipation had given an air where discontent mingled with the
+reckless gaiety of desperation. The other soldiers offered still less to
+detach her consideration; but from the prisoner, muffled and disguised as
+he was, she found it impossible to withdraw her eyes. Yet she blamed
+herself for indulging a curiosity which seemed obviously to give pain to
+him who was its object.
+
+“I wish,” she said to Jenny Dennison, who was the immediate attendant on
+her person, “I wish we knew who that poor fellow is.”
+
+“I was just thinking sae mysell, Miss Edith,” said the waiting woman,
+“but it canna be Cuddie Headrigg, because he’s taller and no sae stout.”
+
+“Yet,” continued Miss Bellenden, “it may be some poor neigbour, for whom
+we might have cause to interest ourselves.”
+
+“I can sune learn wha he is,” said the enterprising Jenny, “if the
+sodgers were anes settled and at leisure, for I ken ane o’ them very
+weel--the best-looking and the youngest o’ them.”
+
+“I think you know all the idle young fellows about the country,” answered
+her mistress.
+
+“Na, Miss Edith, I am no sae free o’ my acquaintance as that,” answered
+the fille-de-chambre. “To be sure, folk canna help kenning the folk by
+head-mark that they see aye glowring and looking at them at kirk and
+market; but I ken few lads to speak to unless it be them o’ the family,
+and the three Steinsons, and Tam Rand, and the young miller, and the five
+Howisons in Nethersheils, and lang Tam Gilry, and”--
+
+“Pray cut short a list of exceptions which threatens to be a long one,
+and tell me how you come to know this young soldier,” said Miss
+Bellenden.
+
+“Lord, Miss Edith, it’s Tam Halliday, Trooper Tam, as they ca’ him, that
+was wounded by the hill-folk at the conventicle at Outer-side Muir, and
+lay here while he was under cure. I can ask him ony thing, and Tam will
+no refuse to answer me, I’ll be caution for him.”
+
+“Try, then,” said Miss Edith, “if you can find an opportunity to ask him
+the name of his prisoner, and come to my room and tell me what he says.”
+
+Jenny Dennison proceeded on her errand, but soon returned with such a
+face of surprise and dismay as evinced a deep interest in the fate of the
+prisoner.
+
+“What is the matter?” said Edith, anxiously; “does it prove to be Cuddie,
+after all, poor fellow?”
+
+“Cuddie, Miss Edith? Na! na! it’s nae Cuddie,” blubbered out the faithful
+fille-de-chambre, sensible of the pain which her news were about to
+inflict on her young mistress. “O dear, Miss Edith, it’s young Milnwood
+himsell!”
+
+“Young Milnwood!” exclaimed Edith, aghast in her turn; “it is
+impossible--totally impossible!--His uncle attends the clergyman
+indulged by law, and has no connexion whatever with the refractory
+people; and he himself has never interfered in this unhappy dissension;
+he must be totally innocent, unless he has been standing up for some
+invaded right.”
+
+“O, my dear Miss Edith,” said her attendant, “these are not days to ask
+what’s right or what’s wrang; if he were as innocent as the new-born
+infant, they would find some way of making him guilty, if they liked; but
+Tam Halliday says it will touch his life, for he has been resetting ane
+o’ the Fife gentlemen that killed that auld carle of an Archbishop.”
+
+“His life!” exclaimed Edith, starting hastily up, and speaking with a
+hurried and tremulous accent,--“they cannot--they shall not--I will speak
+for him--they shall not hurt him!”
+
+“O, my dear young leddy, think on your grandmother; think on the danger
+and the difficulty,” added Jenny; “for he’s kept under close confinement
+till Claverhouse comes up in the morning, and if he doesna gie him full
+satisfaction, Tam Halliday says there will be brief wark wi’ him--Kneel
+down--mak ready--present--fire--just as they did wi’ auld deaf John
+Macbriar, that never understood a single question they pat till him, and
+sae lost his life for lack o’ hearing.”
+
+“Jenny,” said the young lady, “if he should die, I will die with him;
+there is no time to talk of danger or difficulty--I will put on a plaid,
+and slip down with you to the place where they have kept him--I will
+throw myself at the feet of the sentinel, and entreat him, as he has a
+soul to be saved”--
+
+“Eh, guide us!” interrupted the maid, “our young leddy at the feet o’
+Trooper Tam, and speaking to him about his soul, when the puir chield
+hardly kens whether he has ane or no, unless that he whiles swears by
+it--that will never do; but what maun be maun be, and I’ll never desert a
+true-love cause--And sae, if ye maun see young Milnwood, though I ken nae
+gude it will do, but to make baith your hearts the sairer, I’ll e’en tak
+the risk o’t, and try to manage Tam Halliday; but ye maun let me hae my
+ain gate and no speak ae word--he’s keeping guard o’er Milnwood in the
+easter round of the tower.”
+
+“Go, go, fetch me a plaid,” said Edith. “Let me but see him, and I will
+find some remedy for his danger--Haste ye, Jenny, as ever ye hope to have
+good at my hands.”
+
+Jenny hastened, and soon returned with a plaid, in which Edith muffled
+herself so as completely to screen her face, and in part to disguise her
+person. This was a mode of arranging the plaid very common among the
+ladies of that century, and the earlier part of the succeeding one; so
+much so, indeed, that the venerable sages of the Kirk, conceiving that
+the mode gave tempting facilities for intrigue, directed more than one
+act of Assembly against this use of the mantle. But fashion, as usual,
+proved too strong for authority, and while plaids continued to be worn,
+women of all ranks occasionally employed them as a sort of muffler or
+veil. [Note: Concealment of an individual, while in public or promiscuous
+society, was then very common. In England, where no plaids were worn, the
+ladies used vizard masks for the same purpose, and the gallants drew the
+skirts of their cloaks over the right shoulder, so as to cover part of
+the face. This is repeatedly alluded to in Pepys’s Diary.] Her face and
+figure thus concealed, Edith, holding by her attendant’s arm, hastened
+with trembling steps to the place of Morton’s confinement.
+
+This was a small study or closet, in one of the turrets, opening upon a
+gallery in which the sentinel was pacing to and fro; for Sergeant
+Bothwell, scrupulous in observing his word, and perhaps touched with some
+compassion for the prisoner’s youth and genteel demeanour, had waved the
+indignity of putting his guard into the same apartment with him.
+Halliday, therefore, with his carabine on his arm, walked up and down the
+gallery, occasionally solacing himself with a draught of ale, a huge
+flagon of which stood upoon the table at one end of the apartment, and at
+other times humming the lively Scottish air,
+
+“Between Saint Johnstone and Bonny Dundee, I’ll gar ye be fain to follow
+me.”
+
+Jenny Dennison cautioned her mistress once more to let her take her own
+way.
+
+“I can manage the trooper weel eneugh,” she said, “for as rough as he
+is--I ken their nature weel; but ye maunna say a single word.”
+
+She accordingly opened the door of the gallery just as the sentinel had
+turned his back from it, and taking up the tune which he hummed, she sung
+in a coquettish tone of rustic raillery,
+
+“If I were to follow a poor sodger lad, My friends wad be angry, my
+minnie be mad; A laird, or a lord, they were fitter for me, Sae I’ll
+never be fain to follow thee.”--
+
+“A fair challenge, by Jove,” cried the sentinel, turning round, “and from
+two at once; but it’s not easy to bang the soldier with his bandoleers;”
+ then taking up the song where the damsel had stopt,
+
+“To follow me ye weel may be glad, A share of my supper, a share of my
+bed, To the sound of the drum to range fearless and free, I’ll gar ye be
+fain to follow me.”--
+
+“Come, my pretty lass, and kiss me for my song.”
+
+“I should not have thought of that, Mr Halliday,” answered Jenny, with a
+look and tone expressing just the necessary degree of contempt at the
+proposal, “and, I’se assure ye, ye’ll hae but little o’ my company unless
+ye show gentler havings--It wasna to hear that sort o’nonsense that
+brought me here wi’ my friend, and ye should think shame o’ yoursell, ’at
+should ye.”
+
+“Umph! and what sort of nonsense did bring you here then, Mrs Dennison?”
+
+“My kinswoman has some particular business with your prisoner, young Mr
+Harry Morton, and I am come wi’ her to speak till him.”
+
+“The devil you are!” answered the sentinel; “and pray, Mrs Dennison, how
+do your kinswoman and you propose to get in? You are rather too plump to
+whisk through a keyhole, and opening the door is a thing not to be spoke
+of.”
+
+“It’s no a thing to be spoken o’, but a thing to be dune,” replied the
+persevering damsel.
+
+“We’ll see about that, my bonny Jenny;” and the soldier resumed his
+march, humming, as he walked to and fro along the gallery,
+
+“Keek into the draw-well, Janet, Janet, Then ye’ll see your bonny sell,
+My joe Janet.”
+
+“So ye’re no thinking to let us in, Mr Halliday? Weel, weel; gude e’en to
+you--ye hae seen the last o’ me, and o’ this bonny die too,” said Jenny,
+holding between her finger and thumb a splendid silver dollar.
+
+“Give him gold, give him gold,” whispered the agitated young lady.
+
+“Silver’s e’en ower gude for the like o’ him,” replied Jenny, “that disna
+care for the blink o’ a bonny lassie’s ee--and what’s waur, he wad think
+there was something mair in’t than a kinswoman o’ mine. My certy!
+siller’s no sae plenty wi’ us, let alane gowd.” Having addressed this
+advice aside to her mistress, she raised her voice, and said, “My cousin
+winna stay ony langer, Mr Halliday; sae, if ye please, gude e’en t’ye.”
+
+“Halt a bit, halt a bit,” said the trooper; “rein up and parley, Jenny.
+If I let your kinswoman in to speak to my prisoner, you must stay here
+and keep me company till she come out again, and then we’ll all be well
+pleased you know.”
+
+“The fiend be in my feet then,” said Jenny; “d’ye think my kinswoman and
+me are gaun to lose our gude name wi’ cracking clavers wi’ the like o’
+you or your prisoner either, without somebody by to see fair play? Hegh,
+hegh, sirs, to see sic a difference between folk’s promises and
+performance! Ye were aye willing to slight puir Cuddie; but an I had
+asked him to oblige me in a thing, though it had been to cost his
+hanging, he wadna hae stude twice about it.”
+
+“D--n Cuddie!” retorted the dragoon, “he’ll be hanged in good earnest, I
+hope. I saw him today at Milnwood with his old puritanical b--of a
+mother, and if I had thought I was to have had him cast in my dish, I
+would have brought him up at my horse’s tail--we had law enough to bear
+us out.”
+
+“Very weel, very weel--See if Cuddie winna hae a lang shot at you ane o’
+thae days, if ye gar him tak the muir wi’ sae mony honest folk. He can
+hit a mark brawly; he was third at the popinjay; and he’s as true of his
+promise as of ee and hand, though he disna mak sic a phrase about it as
+some acquaintance o’ yours--But it’s a’ ane to me--Come, cousin, we’ll
+awa’.”
+
+“Stay, Jenny; d--n me, if I hang fire more than another when I have said
+a thing,” said the soldier, in a hesitating tone. “Where is the
+sergeant?”
+
+“Drinking and driving ower,” quoth Jenny, “wi’ the Steward and John
+Gudyill.”
+
+“So, so--he’s safe enough--and where are my comrades?” asked Halliday.
+
+“Birling the brown bowl wi’ the fowler and the falconer, and some o’ the
+serving folk.”
+
+“Have they plenty of ale?”
+
+“Sax gallons, as gude as e’er was masked,” said the maid.
+
+“Well, then, my pretty Jenny,” said the relenting sentinel, “they are
+fast till the hour of relieving guard, and perhaps something later; and
+so, if you will promise to come alone the next time”--“Maybe I will, and
+maybe I winna,” said Jenny; “but if ye get the dollar, ye’ll like that
+just as weel.”
+
+“I’ll be d--n’d if I do,” said Halliday, taking the money, howeve; “but
+it’s always something for my risk; for, if Claverhouse hears what I have
+done, he will build me a horse as high as the Tower of Tillietudlem. But
+every one in the regiment takes what they can come by; I am sure Bothwell
+and his blood-royal shows us a good example. And if I were trusting to
+you, you little jilting devil, I should lose both pains and powder;
+whereas this fellow,” looking at the piece, “will be good as far as he
+goes. So, come, there is the door open for you; do not stay groaning and
+praying with the young whig now, but be ready, when I call at the door,
+to start, as if they were sounding ‘Horse and away.’”
+
+So speaking, Halliday unlocked the door of the closet, admitted Jenny and
+her pretended kinswoman, locked it behind them, and hastily reassumed the
+indifferent measured step and time-killing whistle of a sentinel upon his
+regular duty.
+
+The door, which slowly opened, discovered Morton with both arms reclined
+upon a table, and his head resting upon them in a posture of deep
+dejection. He raised his face as the door opened, and, perceiving the
+female figures which it admitted, started up in great surprise. Edith, as
+if modesty had quelled the courage which despair had bestowed, stood
+about a yard from the door without having either the power to speak or to
+advance. All the plans of aid, relief, or comfort, which she had proposed
+to lay before her lover, seemed at once to have vanished from her
+recollection, and left only a painful chaos of ideas, with which was
+mingled a fear that she had degraded herself in the eyes of Morton by a
+step which might appear precipitate and unfeminine. She hung motionless
+and almost powerless upon the arm of her attendant, who in vain
+endeavoured to reassure and inspire her with courage, by whispering, “We
+are in now, madam, and we maun mak the best o’ our time; for, doubtless,
+the corporal or the sergeant will gang the rounds, and it wad be a pity
+to hae the poor lad Halliday punished for his civility.”
+
+Morton, in the meantime, was timidly advancing, suspecting the truth; for
+what other female in the house, excepting Edith herself, was likely to
+take an interest in his misfortunes? and yet afraid, owing to the
+doubtful twilight and the muffled dress, of making some mistake which
+might be prejudicial to the object of his affections. Jenny, whose ready
+wit and forward manners well qualified her for such an office, hastened
+to break the ice.
+
+“Mr Morton, Miss Edith’s very sorry for your present situation, and”--
+
+It was needless to say more; he was at her side, almost at her feet,
+pressing her unresisting hands, and loading her with a profusion of
+thanks and gratitude which would be hardly intelligible from the mere
+broken words, unless we could describe the tone, the gesture, the
+impassioned and hurried indications of deep and tumultuous feeling, with
+which they were accompanied.
+
+For two or three minutes, Edith stood as motionless as the statue of a
+saint which receives the adoration of a worshipper; and when she
+recovered herself sufficiently to withdraw her hands from Henry’s grasp,
+she could at first only faintly articulate, “I have taken a strange step,
+Mr Morton--a step,” she continued with more coherence, as her ideas
+arranged themselves in consequence of a strong effort, “that perhaps may
+expose me to censure in your eyes--But I have long permitted you to use
+the language of friendship--perhaps I might say more--too long to leave
+you when the world seems to have left you. How, or why, is this
+imprisonment? what can be done? can my uncle, who thinks so highly of
+you--can your own kinsman, Milnwood, be of no use? are there no means?
+and what is likely to be the event?”
+
+“Be what it will,” answered Henry, contriving to make himself master of
+the hand that had escaped from him, but which was now again abandoned to
+his clasp, “be what it will, it is to me from this moment the most
+welcome incident of a weary life. To you, dearest Edith--forgive me, I
+should have said Miss Bellenden, but misfortune claims strange
+privileges--to you I have owed the few happy moments which have gilded a
+gloomy existence; and if I am now to lay it down, the recollection of
+this honour will be my happiness in the last hour of suffering.”
+
+“But is it even thus, Mr Morton?” said Miss Bellenden. “Have you, who
+used to mix so little in these unhappy feuds, become so suddenly and
+deeply implicated, that nothing short of”--
+
+She paused, unable to bring out the word which should have come next.
+
+“Nothing short of my life, you would say?” replied Morton, in a calm, but
+melancholy tone; “I believe that will be entirely in the bosoms of my
+judges. My guards spoke of a possibility of exchanging the penalty for
+entry into foreign service. I thought I could have embraced the
+alternative; and yet, Miss Bellenden, since I have seen you once more, I
+feel that exile would be more galling than death.”
+
+“And is it then true,” said Edith, “that you have been so desperately
+rash as to entertain communication with any of those cruel wretches who
+assassinated the primate?”
+
+“I knew not even that such a crime had been committed,” replied Morton,
+“when I gave unhappily a night’s lodging and concealment to one of those
+rash and cruel men, the ancient friend and comrade of my father. But my
+ignorance will avail me little; for who, Miss Bellenden, save you, will
+believe it? And, what is worse, I am at least uncertain whether, even if
+I had known the crime, I could have brought my mind, under all the
+circumstances, to refuse a temporary refuge to the fugitive.”
+
+“And by whom,” said Edith, anxiously, “or under what authority, will the
+investigation of your conduct take place?”
+
+“Under that of Colonel Grahame of Claverhouse, I am given to understand,”
+ said Morton; “one of the military commission, to whom it has pleased our
+king, our privy council, and our parliament, that used to be more
+tenacious of our liberties, to commit the sole charge of our goods and of
+our lives.”
+
+“To Claverhouse?” said Edith, faintly; “merciful Heaven, you are lost ere
+you are tried! He wrote to my grandmother that he was to be here
+to-morrow morning, on his road to the head of the county, where some
+desperate men, animated by the presence of two or three of the actors in
+the primate’s murder, are said to have assembled for the purpose of
+making a stand against the government. His expressions made me shudder,
+even when I could not guess that--that--a friend”--
+
+“Do not be too much alarmed on my account, my dearest Edith,” said Henry,
+as he supported her in his arms; “Claverhouse, though stern and
+relentless, is, by all accounts, brave, fair, and honourable. I am a
+soldier’s son, and will plead my cause like a soldier. He will perhaps
+listen more favourably to a blunt and unvarnished defence than a
+truckling and time-serving judge might do. And, indeed, in a time when
+justice is, in all its branches, so completely corrupted, I would rather
+lose my life by open military violence, than be conjured out of it by the
+hocus-pocus of some arbitrary lawyer, who lends the knowledge he has of
+the statutes made for our protection, to wrest them to our destruction.”
+
+“You are lost--you are lost, if you are to plead your cause with
+Claverhouse!” sighed Edith; “root and branchwork is the mildest of his
+expressions. The unhappy primate was his intimate friend and early
+patron. ‘No excuse, no subterfuge,’ said his letter, ‘shall save either
+those connected with the deed, or such as have given them countenance and
+shelter, from the ample and bitter penalty of the law, until I shall have
+taken as many lives in vengeance of this atrocious murder, as the old man
+had grey hairs upon his venerable head.’ There is neither ruth nor favour
+to be found with him.”
+
+Jenny Dennison, who had hitherto remained silent, now ventured, in the
+extremity of distress which the lovers felt, but for which they were
+unable to devise a remedy, to offer her own advice.
+
+“Wi’ your leddyship’s pardon, Miss Edith, and young Mr Morton’s, we
+maunna waste time. Let Milnwood take my plaid and gown; I’ll slip them
+aff in the dark corner, if he’ll promise no to look about, and he may
+walk past Tam Halliday, who is half blind with his ale, and I can tell
+him a canny way to get out o’ the Tower, and your leddyship will gang
+quietly to your ain room, and I’ll row mysell in his grey cloak, and pit
+on his hat, and play the prisoner till the coast’s clear, and then I’ll
+cry in Tam Halliday, and gar him let me out.”
+
+“Let you out?” said Morton; “they’ll make your life answer it.”
+
+“Ne’er a bit,” replied Jenny; “Tam daurna tell he let ony body in, for
+his ain sake; and I’ll gar him find some other gate to account for the
+escape.”
+
+“Will you, by G--?” said the sentinel, suddenly opening the door of the
+apartment; “if I am half blind, I am not deaf, and you should not plan an
+escape quite so loud, if you expect to go through with it. Come, come,
+Mrs Janet--march, troop--quick time--trot, d--n me!--And you, madam
+kinswoman,--I won’t ask your real name, though you were going to play me
+so rascally a trick,--but I must make a clear garrison; so beat a
+retreat, unless you would have me turn out the guard.”
+
+“I hope,” said Morton, very anxiously, “you will not mention this
+circumstance, my good friend, and trust to my honour to acknowledge your
+civility in keeping the secret. If you overheard our conversation, you
+must have observed that we did not accept of, or enter into, the hasty
+proposal made by this good-natured girl.”
+
+“Oh, devilish good-natured, to be sure,” said Halliday. “As for the rest,
+I guess how it is, and I scorn to bear malice, or tell tales, as much as
+another; but no thanks to that little jilting devil, Jenny Dennison, who
+deserves a tight skelping for trying to lead an honest lad into a scrape,
+just because he was so silly as to like her good-for-little chit face.”
+
+Jenny had no better means of justification than the last apology to which
+her sex trust, and usually not in vain; she pressed her handkerchief to
+her face, sobbed with great vehemence, and either wept, or managed, as
+Halliday might have said, to go through the motions wonderfully well.
+
+“And now,” continued the soldier, somewhat mollified, “if you have any
+thing to say, say it in two minutes, and let me see your backs turned;
+for if Bothwell take it into his drunken head to make the rounds half an
+hour too soon, it will be a black business to us all.”
+
+“Farewell, Edith,” whispered Morton, assuming a firmness he was far from
+possessing; “do not remain here--leave me to my fate--it cannot be beyond
+endurance since you are interested in it.--Good night, good night!--Do
+not remain here till you are discovered.”
+
+Thus saying, he resigned her to her attendant, by whom she was quietly
+led and partly supported out of the apartment.
+
+“Every one has his taste, to be sure,” said Halliday; “but d--n me if I
+would have vexed so sweet a girl as that is, for all the whigs that ever
+swore the Covenant.”
+
+When Edith had regained her apartment, she gave way to a burst of grief
+which alarmed Jenny Dennison, who hastened to administer such scraps of
+consolation as occurred to her.
+
+“Dinna vex yoursell sae muckle, Miss Edith,” said that faithful
+attendant; “wha kens what may happen to help young Milnwood? He’s a brave
+lad, and a bonny, and a gentleman of a good fortune, and they winna
+string the like o’ him up as they do the puir whig bodies that they catch
+in the muirs, like straps o’ onions; maybe his uncle will bring him aff,
+or maybe your ain grand-uncle will speak a gude word for him--he’s weel
+acquent wi’ a’ the red-coat gentlemen.”
+
+“You are right, Jenny! you are right,” said Edith, recovering herself
+from the stupor into which she had sunk; “this is no time for despair,
+but for exertion. You must find some one to ride this very night to my
+uncle’s with a letter.”
+
+“To Charnwood, madam? It’s unco late, and it’s sax miles an’ a bittock
+doun the water; I doubt if we can find man and horse the night, mair
+especially as they hae mounted a sentinel before the gate. Puir Cuddie!
+he’s gane, puir fallow, that wad hae dune aught in the warld I bade him,
+and ne’er asked a reason--an’ I’ve had nae time to draw up wi’ the new
+pleugh-lad yet; forby that, they say he’s gaun to be married to Meg
+Murdieson, illfaur’d cuttie as she is.”
+
+“You must find some one to go, Jenny; life and death depend upon it.”
+
+“I wad gang mysell, my leddy, for I could creep out at the window o’ the
+pantry, and speel down by the auld yew-tree weel eneugh--I hae played
+that trick ere now. But the road’s unco wild, and sae mony red-coats
+about, forby the whigs, that are no muckle better (the young lads o’
+them) if they meet a fraim body their lane in the muirs. I wadna stand
+for the walk--I can walk ten miles by moonlight weel eneugh.”
+
+“Is there no one you can think of, that, for money or favour, would serve
+me so far?” asked Edith, in great anxiety.
+
+“I dinna ken,” said Jenny, after a moment’s consideration, “unless it be
+Guse Gibbie; and he’ll maybe no ken the way, though it’s no sae difficult
+to hit, if he keep the horse-road, and mind the turn at the Cappercleugh,
+and dinna drown himsell in the Whomlekirn-pule, or fa’ ower the scaur at
+the Deil’s Loaning, or miss ony o’ the kittle steps at the Pass o’
+Walkwary, or be carried to the hills by the whigs, or be taen to the
+tolbooth by the red-coats.”
+
+“All ventures must be run,” said Edith, cutting short the list of chances
+against Goose Gibbie’s safe arrival at the end of his pilgrimage; “all
+risks must be run, unless you can find a better messenger.--Go, bid the
+boy get ready, and get him out of the Tower as secretly as you can. If he
+meets any one, let him say he is carrying a letter to Major Bellenden of
+Charnwood, but without mentioning any names.”
+
+“I understand, madam,” said Jenny Dennison; “I warrant the callant will
+do weel eneugh, and Tib the hen-wife will tak care o’ the geese for a
+word o’ my mouth; and I’ll tell Gibbie your leddyship will mak his peace
+wi’ Lady Margaret, and we’ll gie him a dollar.”
+
+“Two, if he does his errand well,” said Edith.
+
+Jenny departed to rouse Goose Gibbie out of his slumbers, to which he was
+usually consigned at sundown, or shortly after, he keeping the hours of
+the birds under his charge. During her absence, Edith took her writing
+materials, and prepared against her return the following letter,
+superscribed, For the hands of Major Bellenden of Charnwood, my much
+honoured uncle, These: “My dear Uncle--This will serve to inform you I am
+desirous to know how your gout is, as we did not see you at the
+wappen-schaw, which made both my grandmother and myself very uneasy. And
+if it will permit you to travel, we shall be happy to see you at our poor
+house to-morrow at the hour of breakfast, as Colonel Grahame of
+Claverhouse is to pass this way on his march, and we would willingly have
+your assistance to receive and entertain a military man of such
+distinction, who, probably, will not be much delighted with the company
+of women. Also, my dear uncle, I pray you to let Mrs Carefor’t, your
+housekeeper, send me my double-trimmed paduasoy with the hanging sleeves,
+which she will find in the third drawer of the walnut press in the green
+room, which you are so kind as to call mine. Also, my dear uncle, I pray
+you to send me the second volume of the Grand Cyrus, as I have only read
+as far as the imprisonment of Philidaspes upon the seven hundredth and
+thirty-third page; but, above all, I entreat you to come to us to-morrow
+before eight of the clock, which, as your pacing nag is so good, you may
+well do without rising before your usual hour. So, praying to God to
+preserve your health, I rest your dutiful and loving niece,
+
+“Edith Bellenden.
+
+“Postscriptum. A party of soldiers have last night brought your friend,
+young Mr Henry Morton of Milnwood, hither as a prisoner. I conclude you
+will be sorry for the young gentleman, and, therefore, let you know this,
+in case you may think of speaking to Colonel Grahame in his behalf. I
+have not mentioned his name to my grandmother, knowing her prejudice
+against the family.”
+
+This epistle being duly sealed and delivered to Jenny, that faithful
+confidant hastened to put the same in the charge of Goose Gibbie, whom
+she found in readiness to start from the castle. She then gave him
+various instructions touching the road, which she apprehended he was
+likely to mistake, not having travelled it above five or six times, and
+possessing only the same slender proportion of memory as of judgment.
+Lastly, she smuggled him out of the garrison through the pantry window
+into the branchy yew-tree which grew close beside it, and had the
+satisfaction to see him reach the bottom in safety, and take the right
+turn at the commencement of his journey. She then returned to persuade
+her young mistress to go to bed, and to lull her to rest, if possible,
+with assurances of Gibbie’s success in his embassy, only qualified by a
+passing regret that the trusty Cuddie, with whom the commission might
+have been more safely reposed, was no longer within reach of serving her.
+
+More fortunate as a messenger than as a cavalier, it was Gibbie’s good
+hap rather than his good management, which, after he had gone astray not
+oftener than nine times, and given his garments a taste of the variation
+of each bog, brook, and slough, between Tillietudlem and Charnwood,
+placed him about daybreak before the gate of Major Bellenden’s mansion,
+having completed a walk of ten miles (for the bittock, as usual, amounted
+to four) in little more than the same number of hours.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+               At last comes the troop, by the word of command
+               Drawn up in our court, where the Captain cries,
+               Stand!
+                                             Swift
+
+Major Bellenden’s ancient valet, Gideon Pike as he adjusted his master’s
+clothes by his bedside, preparatory to the worthy veteran’s toilet,
+acquainted him, as an apology for disturbing him an hour earlier than his
+usual time of rising, that there was an express from Tillietudlem.
+
+“From Tillietudlem?” said the old gentleman, rising hastily in his bed,
+and sitting bolt upright,--“Open the shutters, Pike--I hope my
+sister-in-law is well--furl up the bed-curtain.--What have we all here?”
+ (glancing at Edith’s note.) “The gout? why, she knows I have not had a
+fit since Candlemas.--The wappen-schaw? I told her a month since I was
+not to be there.--Paduasoy and hanging sleeves? why, hang the gipsy
+herself!--Grand Cyrus and Philipdastus?--Philip Devil!--is the wench gone
+crazy all at once? was it worth while to send an express and wake me
+at five in the morning for all this trash?--But what says her
+postscriptum?--Mercy on us!” he exclaimed on perusing it,--“Pike, saddle
+old Kilsythe instantly, and another horse for yourself.”
+
+“I hope nae ill news frae the Tower, sir?” said Pike, astonished at his
+master’s sudden emotion.
+
+“Yes--no--yes--that is, I must meet Claverhouse there on some express
+business; so boot and saddle, Pike, as fast as you can.--O, Lord! what
+times are these!--the poor lad--my old cronie’s son!--and the silly wench
+sticks it into her postscriptum, as she calls it, at the tail of all this
+trumpery about old gowns and new romances!”
+
+In a few minutes the good old officer was fully equipped; and having
+mounted upon his arm-gaunt charger as soberly as Mark Antony himself
+could have done, he paced forth his way to the Tower of Tillietudlem.
+
+On the road he formed the prudent resolution to say nothing to the old
+lady (whose dislike to presbyterians of all kinds he knew to be
+inveterate) of the quality and rank of the prisoner detained within her
+walls, but to try his own influence with Claverhouse to obtain Morton’s
+liberation.
+
+“Being so loyal as he is, he must do something for so old a cavalier as I
+am,” said the veteran to himself; “and if he is so good a soldier as the
+world speaks of, why, he will be glad to serve an old soldier’s son. I
+never knew a real soldier that was not a frank-hearted, honest fellow;
+and I think the execution of the laws (though it’s a pity they find it
+necessary to make them so severe) may be a thousand times better
+intrusted with them than with peddling lawyers and thick-skulled country
+gentlemen.”
+
+Such were the ruminations of Major Miles Bellenden, which were terminated
+by John Gudyill (not more than half-drunk) taking hold of his bridle, and
+assisting him to dismount in the roughpaved court of Tillietudlem.
+
+“Why, John,” said the veteran, “what devil of a discipline is this you
+have been keeping? You have been reading Geneva print this morning
+already.”
+
+“I have been reading the Litany,” said John, shaking his head with a look
+of drunken gravity, and having only caught one word of the Major’s
+address to him; “life is short, sir; we are flowers of the field,
+sir--hiccup--and lilies of the valley.”
+
+“Flowers and lilies? Why, man, such carles as thou and I can hardly be
+called better than old hemlocks, decayed nettles, or withered rag-weed;
+but I suppose you think that we are still worth watering.”
+
+“I am an old soldier, sir, I thank Heaven--hiccup”--
+
+“An old skinker, you mean, John. But come, never mind, show me the way to
+your mistress, old lad.”
+
+John Gudyill led the way to the stone hall, where Lady Margaret was
+fidgeting about, superintending, arranging, and re-forming the
+preparations made for the reception of the celebrated Claverhouse, whom
+one party honoured and extolled as a hero, and another execrated as a
+bloodthirsty oppressor.
+
+“Did I not tell you,” said Lady Margaret to her principal female
+attendant--“did I not tell you, Mysie, that it was my especial pleasure
+on this occasion to have every thing in the precise order wherein it was
+upon that famous morning when his most sacred majesty partook of his
+disjune at Tillietudlem?”
+
+“Doubtless, such were your leddyship’s commands, and to the best of my
+remembrance”--was Mysie answering, when her ladyship broke in with, “Then
+wherefore is the venison pasty placed on the left side of the throne, and
+the stoup of claret upon the right, when ye may right weel remember,
+Mysie, that his most sacred majesty with his ain hand shifted the pasty
+to the same side with the flagon, and said they were too good friends to
+be parted?”
+
+“I mind that weel, madam,” said Mysie; “and if I had forgot, I have heard
+your leddyship often speak about that grand morning sin’ syne; but I
+thought every thing was to be placed just as it was when his majesty, God
+bless him, came into this room, looking mair like an angel than a man, if
+he hadna been sae black-a-vised.”
+
+“Then ye thought nonsense, Mysie; for in whatever way his most sacred
+majesty ordered the position of the trenchers and flagons, that, as weel
+as his royal pleasure in greater matters, should be a law to his
+subjects, and shall ever be to those of the house of Tillietudlem.”
+
+“Weel, madam,” said Mysie, making the alterations required, “it’s easy
+mending the error; but if every thing is just to be as his majesty left
+it, there should be an unco hole in the venison pasty.”
+
+At this moment the door opened.
+
+“Who is that, John Gudyill?” exclaimed the old lady. “I can speak to no
+one just now.--Is it you, my dear brother?” she continued, in some
+surprise, as the Major entered; “this is a right early visit.”
+
+“Not more early than welcome, I hope,” replied Major Bellenden, as he
+saluted the widow of his deceased brother; “but I heard by a note which
+Edith sent to Charnwood about some of her equipage and books, that you
+were to have Claver’se here this morning, so I thought, like an old
+firelock as I am, that I should like to have a chat with this rising
+soldier. I caused Pike saddle Kilsythe, and here we both are.”
+
+“And most kindly welcome you are,” said the old lady; “it is just what I
+should have prayed you to do, if I had thought there was time. You see I
+am busy in preparation. All is to be in the same order as when”--“The
+king breakfasted at Tillietudlem,” said the Major, who, like all Lady
+Margaret’s friends, dreaded the commencement of that narrative, and was
+desirous to cut it short,--“I remember it well; you know I was waiting on
+his majesty.”
+
+“You were, brother,” said Lady Margaret; “and perhaps you can help me to
+remember the order of the entertainment.”
+
+“Nay, good sooth,” said the Major, “the damnable dinner that Noll gave us
+at Worcester a few days afterwards drove all your good cheer out of my
+memory.--But how’s this?--you have even the great Turkey-leather
+elbow-chair, with the tapestry cushions, placed in state.”
+
+“The throne, brother, if you please,” said Lady Margaret, gravely.
+
+“Well, the throne be it, then,” continued the Major. “Is that to be
+Claver’se’s post in the attack upon the pasty?”
+
+“No, brother,” said the lady; “as these cushions have been once honoured
+by accommodating the person of our most sacred Monarch, they shall never,
+please Heaven, during my life-time, be pressed by any less dignified
+weight.”
+
+“You should not then,” said the old soldier, “put them in the way of an
+honest old cavalier, who has ridden ten miles before breakfast; for, to
+confess the truth, they look very inviting. But where is Edith?”
+
+“On the battlements of the warder’s turret,” answered the old lady,
+“looking out for the approach of our guests.”
+
+“Why, I’ll go there too; and so should you, Lady Margaret, as soon as you
+have your line of battle properly formed in the hall here. It’s a pretty
+thing, I can tell you, to see a regiment of horse upon the march.”
+
+Thus speaking, he offered his arm with an air of old-fashioned gallantry,
+which Lady Margaret accepted with such a courtesy of acknowledgment as
+ladies were wont to make in Holyroodhouse before the year 1642, which,
+for one while, drove both courtesies and courts out of fashion.
+
+Upon the bartizan of the turret, to which they ascended by many a winding
+passage and uncouth staircase, they found Edith, not in the attitude of a
+young lady who watches with fluttering curiosity the approach of a smart
+regiment of dragoons, but pale, downcast, and evincing, by her
+countenance, that sleep had not, during the preceding night, been the
+companion of her pillow. The good old veteran was hurt at her appearance,
+which, in the hurry of preparation, her grandmother had omitted to
+notice.
+
+“What is come over you, you silly girl?” he said; “why, you look like an
+officer’s wife when she opens the News-letter after an action, and
+expects to find her husband among the killed and wounded. But I know the
+reason--you will persist in reading these nonsensical romances, day and
+night, and whimpering for distresses that never existed. Why, how the
+devil can you believe that Artamines, or what d’ye call him, fought
+singlehanded with a whole battalion? One to three is as great odds as
+ever fought and won, and I never knew any body that cared to take that,
+except old Corporal Raddlebanes. But these d--d books put all pretty
+men’s actions out of countenance. I daresay you would think very little
+of Raddlebanes, if he were alongside of Artamines.--I would have the
+fellows that write such nonsense brought to the picquet for
+leasing-making.”
+
+     [Note:  Romances of the Seventeenth Century. As few, in the present
+     age, are acquainted with the ponderous folios to which the age of
+     Louis XIV. gave rise, we need only say, that they combine the
+     dulness of the metaphysical courtship with all the improbabilities
+     of the ancient Romance of Chivalry. Their character will be most
+     easily learned from Boileau’s Dramatic Satire, or Mrs Lennox’s
+     Female Quixote.]
+
+Lady Margaret, herself somewhat attached to the perusal of romances, took
+up the cudgels. “Monsieur Scuderi,” she said, “is a soldier, brother;
+and, as I have heard, a complete one, and so is the Sieur d’Urfe.”
+
+“More shame for them; they should have known better what they were
+writing about. For my part, I have not read a book these twenty years
+except my Bible, The Whole Duty of Man, and, of late days, Turner’s
+Pallas Armata, or Treatise on the Ordering of the Pike Exercise, and I
+don’t like his discipline much neither.
+
+     [Note:  Sir James Turner. Sir James Turner was a soldier of fortune,
+     bred in the civil wars. He was intrusted with a commission to levy
+     the fines imposed by the Privy Council for non-conformity, in the
+     district of Dumfries and Galloway. In this capacity he vexed the
+     country so much by his exactions, that the people rose and made him
+     prisoner, and then proceeded in arms towards Mid-Lothian, where they
+     were defeated at Pentland Hills, in 1666. Besides his treatise on
+     the Military Art, Sir James Turner wrote several other works; the
+     most curious of which is his Memoirs of his own Life and Times,
+     which has just been printed, under the charge of the Bannatyne
+     Club.]
+
+He wants to draw up the cavalry in front of a stand of pikes, instead of
+being upon the wings. Sure am I, if we had done so at Kilsythe, instead
+of having our handful of horse on the flanks, the first discharge would
+have sent them back among our Highlanders.--But I hear the kettle-drums.”
+
+All heads were now bent from the battlements of the turret, which
+commanded a distant prospect down the vale of the river. The Tower of
+Tillietudlem stood, or perhaps yet stands, upon the angle of a very
+precipitous bank, formed by the junction of a considerable brook with the
+Clyde.
+
+     [Note: The Castle of Tillietudlem is imaginary; but the ruins of
+     Craignethan Castle, situated on the Nethan, about three miles from
+     its junction with the Clyde, have something of the character of the
+     description in the text].
+
+There was a narrow bridge of one steep arch, across the brook near its
+mouth, over which, and along the foot of the high and broken bank, winded
+the public road; and the fortalice, thus commanding both bridge and pass,
+had been, in times of war, a post of considerable importance, the
+possession of which was necessary to secure the communication of the
+upper and wilder districts of the country with those beneath, where the
+valley expands, and is more capable of cultivation. The view downwards is
+of a grand woodland character; but the level ground and gentle slopes
+near the river form cultivated fields of an irregular shape, interspersed
+with hedgerow-trees and copses, the enclosures seeming to have been
+individually cleared out of the forest which surrounds them, and which
+occupies, in unbroken masses, the steeper declivities and more distant
+banks. The stream, in colour a clear and sparkling brown, like the hue of
+the Cairngorm pebbles, rushes through this romantic region in bold sweeps
+and curves, partly visible and partly concealed by the trees which clothe
+its banks. With a providence unknown in other parts of Scotland, the
+peasants have, in most places, planted orchards around their cottages,
+and the general blossom of the appletrees at this season of the year gave
+all the lower part of the view the appearance of a flower-garden.
+
+Looking up the river, the character of the scene was varied considerably
+for the worse. A hilly, waste, and uncultivated country approached close
+to the banks; the trees were few, and limited to the neighbourhood of the
+stream, and the rude moors swelled at a little distance into shapeless
+and heavy hills, which were again surmounted in their turn by a range of
+lofty mountains, dimly seen on the horizon. Thus the tower commanded two
+prospects, the one richly cultivated and highly adorned, the other
+exhibiting the monotonous and dreary character of a wild and inhospitable
+moorland.
+
+The eyes of the spectators on the present occasion were attracted to the
+downward view, not alone by its superior beauty, but because the distant
+sounds of military music began to be heard from the public high-road
+which winded up the vale, and announced the approach of the expected body
+of cavalry. Their glimmering ranks were shortly afterwards seen in the
+distance, appearing and disappearing as the trees and the windings of the
+road permitted them to be visible, and distinguished chiefly by the
+flashes of light which their arms occasionally reflected against the sun.
+The train was long and imposing, for there were about two hundred and
+fifty horse upon the march, and the glancing of the swords and waving of
+their banners, joined to the clang of their trumpets and kettle-drums,
+had at once a lively and awful effect upon the imagination. As they
+advanced still nearer and nearer, they could distinctly see the files of
+those chosen troops following each other in long succession, completely
+equipped and superbly mounted.
+
+“It’s a sight that makes me thirty years younger,” said the old cavalier;
+“and yet I do not much like the service that these poor fellows are to be
+engaged in. Although I had my share of the civil war, I cannot say I had
+ever so much real pleasure in that sort of service as when I was employed
+on the Continent, and we were hacking at fellows with foreign faces and
+outlandish dialect. It’s a hard thing to hear a hamely Scotch tongue cry
+quarter, and be obliged to cut him down just the same as if he called out
+_misricorde_.--So, there they come through the Netherwood haugh; upon my
+word, fine-looking fellows, and capitally mounted.--He that is gallopping
+from the rear of the column must be Claver’se himself;--ay, he gets into
+the front as they cross the bridge, and now they will be with us in less
+than five minutes.”
+
+
+[Illustration: Edith on the Battlements--frontispiece]
+
+
+At the bridge beneath the tower the cavalry divided, and the greater
+part, moving up the left bank of the brook and crossing at a ford a
+little above, took the road of the Grange, as it was called, a large set
+of farm-offices belonging to the Tower, where Lady Margaret had ordered
+preparation to be made for their reception and suitable entertainment.
+The officers alone, with their colours and an escort to guard them, were
+seen to take the steep road up to the gate of the Tower, appearing by
+intervals as they gained the ascent, and again hidden by projections of
+the bank and of the huge old trees with which it is covered. When they
+emerged from this narrow path, they found themselves in front of the old
+Tower, the gates of which were hospitably open for their reception. Lady
+Margaret, with Edith and her brother-in-law, having hastily descended
+from their post of observation, appeared to meet and to welcome their
+guests, with a retinue of domestics in as good order as the orgies of the
+preceding evening permitted. The gallant young cornet (a relation as well
+as namesake of Claverhouse, with whom the reader has been already made
+acquainted) lowered the standard amid the fanfare of the trumpets, in
+homage to the rank of Lady Margaret and the charms of her grand-daughter,
+and the old walls echoed to the flourish of the instruments, and the
+stamp and neigh of the chargers.
+
+     [Note:  John Grahame of Claverhouse. This remarkable person united
+     the seemingly inconsistent qualities of courage and cruelty, a
+     disinterested and devoted loyalty to his prince, with a disregard of
+     the rights of his fellow-subjects. He was the unscrupulous agent of
+     the Scottish Privy Council in executing the merciless severities of
+     the government in Scotland during the reigns of Charles II. and
+     James II.; but he redeemed his character by the zeal with which he
+     asserted the cause of the latter monarch after the Revolution, the
+     military skill with which he supported it at the battle of
+     Killiecrankie, and by his own death in the arms of victory.
+
+     It is said by tradition, that he was very desirous to see, and be
+     introduced to, a certain Lady Elphinstoun, who had reached the
+     advanced age of one hundred years and upwards. The noble matron,
+     being a stanch whig, was rather unwilling to receive Claver’se, (as
+     he was called from his title,) but at length consented. After the
+     usual compliments, the officer observed to the lady, that having
+     lived so much beyond the usual term of humanity, she must in her
+     time have seen many strange changes. “Hout na, sir,” said Lady
+     Elphinstoun, “the world is just to end with me as it began. When I
+     was entering life, there was ane Knox deaving us a’ wi’ his clavers,
+     and now I am ganging out, there is ane Claver’se deaving us a’ wi’
+     his knocks.”
+
+     Clavers signifying, in common parlance, idle chat, the double pun
+     does credit to the ingenuity of a lady of a hundred years old.]
+
+Claverhouse himself alighted from a black horse, the most beautiful
+perhaps in Scotland. He had not a single white hair upon his whole body,
+a circumstance which, joined to his spirit and fleetness, and to his
+being so frequently employed in pursuit of the presbyterian recusants,
+caused an opinion to prevail among them, that the steed had been
+presented to his rider by the great Enemy of Mankind, in order to assist
+him in persecuting the fugitive wanderers. When Claverhouse had paid his
+respects to the ladies with military politeness, had apologized for the
+trouble to which he was putting Lady Margaret’s family, and had received
+the corresponding assurances that she could not think any thing an
+inconvenience which brought within the walls of Tillietudlem so
+distinguished a soldier, and so loyal a servant of his sacred majesty;
+when, in short, all forms of hospitable and polite ritual had been duly
+complied with, the Colonel requested permission to receive the report of
+Bothwell, who was now in attendance, and with whom he spoke apart for a
+few minutes. Major Bellenden took that opportunity to say to his niece,
+without the hearing of her grandmother, “What a trifling foolish girl you
+are, Edith, to send me by express a letter crammed with nonsense about
+books and gowns, and to slide the only thing I cared a marvedie about
+into the postscript!”
+
+“I did not know,” said Edith, hesitating very much, “whether it would be
+quite--quite proper for me to”--“I know what you would say--whether it
+would be right to take any interest in a presbyterian. But I knew this
+lad’s father well. He was a brave soldier; and, if he was once wrong, he
+was once right too. I must commend your caution, Edith, for having said
+nothing of this young gentleman’s affair to your grandmother--you may
+rely on it I shall not--I will take an opportunity to speak to Claver’se.
+Come, my love, they are going to breakfast. Let us follow them.”
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+               Their breakfast so warm to be sure they did eat,
+               A custom in travellers mighty discreet.
+                                                  Prior.
+
+The breakfast of Lady Margaret Bellenden no more resembled a modern
+_dejune_, than the great stone-hall at Tillietudlem could brook
+comparison with a modern drawing-room. No tea, no coffee, no variety of
+rolls, but solid and substantial viands,--the priestly ham, the knightly
+sirloin, the noble baron of beef, the princely venison pasty; while
+silver flagons, saved with difficulty from the claws of the Covenanters,
+now mantled, some with ale, some with mead, and some with generous wine
+of various qualities and descriptions. The appetites of the guests were
+in correspondence to the magnificence and solidity of the preparation--no
+piddling--no boy’s-play, but that steady and persevering exercise of the
+jaws which is best learned by early morning hours, and by occasional hard
+commons.
+
+Lady Margaret beheld with delight the cates which she had provided
+descending with such alacrity into the persons of her honoured guests,
+and had little occasion to exercise, with respect to any of the company
+saving Claverhouse himself, the compulsory urgency of pressing to eat, to
+which, as to the peine forte et dure, the ladies of that period were in
+the custom of subjecting their guests.
+
+But the leader himself, more anxious to pay courtesy to Miss Bellenden,
+next whom he was placed, than to gratify his appetite, appeared somewhat
+negligent of the good cheer set before him. Edith heard, without reply,
+many courtly speeches addressed to her, in a tone of voice of that happy
+modulation which could alike melt in the low tones of interesting
+conversation, and rise amid the din of battle, “loud as a trumpet with a
+silver sound.” The sense that she was in the presence of the dreadful
+chief upon whose fiat the fate of Henry Morton must depend--the
+recollection of the terror and awe which were attached to the very name
+of the commander, deprived her for some time, not only of the courage to
+answer, but even of the power of looking upon him. But when, emboldened
+by the soothing tones of his voice, she lifted her eyes to frame some
+reply, the person on whom she looked bore, in his appearance at least,
+none of the terrible attributes in which her apprehensions had arrayed
+him.
+
+Grahame of Claverhouse was in the prime of life, rather low of stature,
+and slightly, though elegantly, formed; his gesture, language, and
+manners, were those of one whose life had been spent among the noble and
+the gay. His features exhibited even feminine regularity. An oval face, a
+straight and well-formed nose, dark hazel eyes, a complexion just
+sufficiently tinged with brown to save it from the charge of effeminacy,
+a short upper lip, curved upward like that of a Grecian statue, and
+slightly shaded by small mustachios of light brown, joined to a profusion
+of long curled locks of the same colour, which fell down on each side of
+his face, contributed to form such a countenance as limners love to paint
+and ladies to look upon.
+
+The severity of his character, as well as the higher attributes of
+undaunted and enterprising valour which even his enemies were compelled
+to admit, lay concealed under an exterior which seemed adapted to the
+court or the saloon rather than to the field. The same gentleness and
+gaiety of expression which reigned in his features seemed to inspire his
+actions and gestures; and, on the whole, he was generally esteemed, at
+first sight, rather qualified to be the votary of pleasure than of
+ambition. But under this soft exterior was hidden a spirit unbounded in
+daring and in aspiring, yet cautious and prudent as that of Machiavel
+himself. Profound in politics, and embued, of course, with that disregard
+for individual rights which its intrigues usually generate, this leader
+was cool and collected in danger, fierce and ardent in pursuing success,
+careless of facing death himself, and ruthless in inflicting it upon
+others. Such are the characters formed in times of civil discord, when
+the highest qualities, perverted by party spirit, and inflamed by
+habitual opposition, are too often combined with vices and excesses which
+deprive them at once of their merit and of their lustre.
+
+In endeavouring to reply to the polite trifles with which Claverhouse
+accosted her, Edith showed so much confusion, that her grandmother
+thought it necessary to come to her relief.
+
+“Edith Bellenden,” said the old lady, “has, from my retired mode of
+living, seen so little of those of her own sphere, that truly she can
+hardly frame her speech to suitable answers. A soldier is so rare a sight
+with us, Colonel Grahame, that unless it be my young Lord Evandale, we
+have hardly had an opportunity of receiving a gentleman in uniform. And,
+now I talk of that excellent young nobleman, may I enquire if I was not
+to have had the honour of seeing him this morning with the regiment?”
+
+“Lord Evandale, madam, was on his march with us,” answered the leader,
+“but I was obliged to detach him with a small party to disperse a
+conventicle of those troublesome scoundrels, who have had the impudence
+to assemble within five miles of my head-quarters.”
+
+“Indeed!” said the old lady; “that is a height of presumption to which I
+would have thought no rebellious fanatics would have ventured to aspire.
+But these are strange times! There is an evil spirit in the land, Colonel
+Grahame, that excites the vassals of persons of rank to rebel against the
+very house that holds and feeds them. There was one of my able-bodied men
+the other day who plainly refused to attend the wappen-schaw at my
+bidding. Is there no law for such recusancy, Colonel Grahame?”
+
+“I think I could find one,” said Claverhouse, with great composure, “if
+your ladyship will inform me of the name and residence of the culprit.”
+
+“His name,” said Lady Margaret, “is Cuthbert Headrigg; I can say nothing
+of his domicile, for ye may weel believe, Colonel Grahame, he did not
+dwell long in Tillietudlem, but was speedily expelled for his contumacy.
+I wish the lad no severe bodily injury; but incarceration, or even a few
+stripes, would be a good example in this neighbourhood. His mother, under
+whose influence I doubt he acted, is an ancient domestic of this family,
+which makes me incline to mercy; although,” continued the old lady,
+looking towards the pictures of her husband and her sons, with which the
+wall was hung, and heaving, at the same time, a deep sigh, “I, Colonel
+Grahame, have in my ain person but little right to compassionate that
+stubborn and rebellious generation. They have made me a childless widow,
+and, but for the protection of our sacred sovereign and his gallant
+soldiers, they would soon deprive me of lands and goods, of hearth and
+altar. Seven of my tenants, whose joint rent-mail may mount to wellnigh a
+hundred merks, have already refused to pay either cess or rent, and had
+the assurance to tell my steward that they would acknowledge neither king
+nor landlord but who should have taken the Covenant.”
+
+“I will take a course with them--that is, with your ladyship’s
+permission,” answered Claverhouse; “it would ill become me to neglect the
+support of lawful authority when it is lodged in such worthy hands as
+those of Lady Margaret Bellenden. But I must needs say this country grows
+worse and worse daily, and reduces me to the necessity of taking measures
+with the recusants that are much more consonant with my duty than with my
+inclinations. And, speaking of this, I must not forget that I have to
+thank your ladyship for the hospitality you have been pleased to extend
+to a party of mine who have brought in a prisoner, charged with having
+resetted [Note: Resetted, i.e. received or harboured.] the murdering
+villain, Balfour of Burley.”
+
+“The house of Tillietudlem,” answered the lady, “hath ever been open to
+the servants of his majesty, and I hope that the stones of it will no
+longer rest on each other when it surceases to be as much at their
+command as at ours. And this reminds me, Colonel Grahame, that the
+gentleman who commands the party can hardly be said to be in his proper
+place in the army, considering whose blood flows in his veins; and if I
+might flatter myself that any thing would be granted to my request, I
+would presume to entreat that he might be promoted on some favourable
+opportunity.”
+
+“Your ladyship means Sergeant Francis Stewart, whom we call Bothwell?”
+ said Claverhouse, smiling. “The truth is, he is a little too rough in the
+country, and has not been uniformly so amenable to discipline as the
+rules of the service require. But to instruct me how to oblige Lady
+Margaret Bellenden, is to lay down the law to me.--Bothwell,” he
+continued, addressing the sergeant, who just then appeared at the door,
+“go kiss Lady Margaret Bellenden’s hand, who interests herself in your
+promotion, and you shall have a commission the first vacancy.”
+
+Bothwell went through the salutation in the manner prescribed, but not
+without evident marks of haughty reluctance, and, when he had done so,
+said aloud, “To kiss a lady’s hand can never disgrace a gentleman; but I
+would not kiss a man’s, save the king’s, to be made a general.”
+
+“You hear him,” said Claverhouse, smiling, “there’s the rock he splits
+upon; he cannot forget his pedigree.”
+
+“I know, my noble colonel,” said Bothwell, in the same tone, “that you
+will not forget your promise; and then, perhaps, you may permit Cornet
+Stewart to have some recollection of his grandfather, though the Sergeant
+must forget him.”
+
+“Enough of this, sir,” said Claverhouse, in the tone of command which was
+familiar to him; “and let me know what you came to report to me just
+now.”
+
+“My Lord Evandale and his party have halted on the high-road with some
+prisoners,” said Bothwell.
+
+“My Lord Evandale?” said Lady Margaret. “Surely, Colonel Grahame, you
+will permit him to honour me with his society, and to take his poor
+disjune here, especially considering, that even his most sacred Majesty
+did not pass the Tower of Tillietudlem without halting to partake of some
+refreshment.”
+
+As this was the third time in the course of the conversation that Lady
+Margaret had adverted to this distinguished event, Colonel Grahame, as
+speedily as politeness would permit, took advantage of the first pause to
+interrupt the farther progress of the narrative, by saying, “We are
+already too numerous a party of guests; but as I know what Lord Evandale
+will suffer (looking towards Edith) if deprived of the pleasure which we
+enjoy, I will run the risk of overburdening your ladyship’s
+hospitality.--Bothwell, let Lord Evandale know that Lady Margaret
+Bellenden requests the honour of his company.”
+
+“And let Harrison take care,” added Lady Margaret, “that the people and
+their horses are suitably seen to.”
+
+Edith’s heart sprung to her lips during this conversation; for it
+instantly occurred to her, that, through her influence over Lord
+Evandale, she might find some means of releasing Morton from his present
+state of danger, in case her uncle’s intercession with Claverhouse should
+prove ineffectual. At any other time she would have been much averse to
+exert this influence; for, however inexperienced in the world, her native
+delicacy taught her the advantage which a beautiful young woman gives to
+a young man when she permits him to lay her under an obligation. And she
+would have been the farther disinclined to request any favour of Lord
+Evandale, because the voice of the gossips in Clydesdale had, for reasons
+hereafter to be made known, assigned him to her as a suitor, and because
+she could not disguise from herself that very little encouragement was
+necessary to realize conjectures which had hitherto no foundation. This
+was the more to be dreaded, that, in the case of Lord Evandale’s making a
+formal declaration, he had every chance of being supported by the
+influence of Lady Margaret and her other friends, and that she would have
+nothing to oppose to their solicitations and authority, except a
+predilection, to avow which she knew would be equally dangerous and
+unavailing. She determined, therefore, to wait the issue of her uncle’s
+intercession, and, should it fail, which she conjectured she should soon
+learn, either from the looks or language of the open-hearted veteran, she
+would then, as a last effort, make use in Morton’s favour of her interest
+with Lord Evandale. Her mind did not long remain in suspense on the
+subject of her uncle’s application.
+
+Major Bellenden, who had done the honours of the table, laughing and
+chatting with the military guests who were at that end of the board, was
+now, by the conclusion of the repast, at liberty to leave his station,
+and accordingly took an opportunity to approach Claverhouse, requesting
+from his niece, at the same time, the honour of a particular
+introduction. As his name and character were well known, the two military
+men met with expressions of mutual regard; and Edith, with a beating
+heart, saw her aged relative withdraw from the company, together with his
+new acquaintance, into a recess formed by one of the arched windows of
+the hall. She watched their conference with eyes almost dazzled by the
+eagerness of suspense, and, with observation rendered more acute by the
+internal agony of her mind, could guess, from the pantomimic gestures
+which accompanied the conversation, the progress and fate of the
+intercession in behalf of Henry Morton.
+
+The first expression of the countenance of Claverhouse betokened that
+open and willing courtesy, which, ere it requires to know the nature of
+the favour asked, seems to say, how happy the party will be to confer an
+obligation on the suppliant. But as the conversation proceeded, the brow
+of that officer became darker and more severe, and his features, though
+still retaining the expression of the most perfect politeness, assumed,
+at least to Edith’s terrified imagination, a harsh and inexorable
+character. His lip was now compressed as if with impatience; now curled
+slightly upward, as if in civil contempt of the arguments urged by Major
+Bellenden. The language of her uncle, as far as expressed in his manner,
+appeared to be that of earnest intercession, urged with all the
+affectionate simplicity of his character, as well as with the weight
+which his age and reputation entitled him to use. But it seemed to have
+little impression upon Colonel Grahame, who soon changed his posture, as
+if about to cut short the Major’s importunity, and to break up their
+conference with a courtly expression of regret, calculated to accompany a
+positive refusal of the request solicited. This movement brought them so
+near Edith, that she could distinctly hear Claverhouse say, “It cannot
+be, Major Bellenden; lenity, in his case, is altogether beyond the bounds
+of my commission, though in any thing else I am heartily desirous to
+oblige you.--And here comes Evandale with news, as I think.--What tidings
+do you bring us, Evandale?” he continued, addressing the young lord, who
+now entered in complete uniform, but with his dress disordered, and his
+boots spattered, as if by riding hard.
+
+
+[Illustration: Claverhouse--176]
+
+
+“Unpleasant news, sir,” was his reply. “A large body of whigs are in arms
+among the hills, and have broken out into actual rebellion. They have
+publicly burnt the Act of Supremacy, that which established episcopacy,
+that for observing the martyrdom of Charles I., and some others, and have
+declared their intention to remain together in arms for furthering the
+covenanted work of reformation.”
+
+This unexpected intelligence struck a sudden and painful surprise into
+the minds of all who heard it, excepting Claverhouse.
+
+“Unpleasant news call you them?” replied Colonel Grahame, his dark eyes
+flashing fire, “they are the best I have heard these six months. Now that
+the scoundrels are drawn into a body, we will make short work with them.
+When the adder crawls into daylight,” he added, striking the heel of his
+boot upon the floor, as if in the act of crushing a noxious reptile, “I
+can trample him to death; he is only safe when he remains lurking in his
+den or morass.--Where are these knaves?” he continued, addressing Lord
+Evandale.
+
+“About ten miles off among the mountains, at a place called Loudon-hill,”
+ was the young nobleman’s reply. “I dispersed the conventicle against
+which you sent me, and made prisoner an old trumpeter of rebellion,--an
+intercommuned minister, that is to say,--who was in the act of exhorting
+his hearers to rise and be doing in the good cause, as well as one or two
+of his hearers who seemed to be particularly insolent; and from some
+country people and scouts I learned what I now tell you.”
+
+“What may be their strength?” asked his commander.
+
+“Probably a thousand men, but accounts differ widely.”
+
+“Then,” said Claverhouse, “it is time for us to be up and be doing
+also--Bothwell, bid them sound to horse.”
+
+Bothwell, who, like the war-horse of scripture, snuffed the battle afar
+off, hastened to give orders to six negroes, in white dresses richly
+laced, and having massive silver collars and armlets. These sable
+functionaries acted as trumpeters, and speedily made the castle and the
+woods around it ring with their summons.
+
+“Must you then leave us?” said Lady Margaret, her heart sinking under
+recollection of former unhappy times; “had ye not better send to learn
+the force of the rebels?--O, how many a fair face hae I heard these
+fearfu’ sounds call away frae the Tower of Tillietudlem, that my auld een
+were ne’er to see return to it!”
+
+“It is impossible for me to stop,” said Claverhouse; “there are rogues
+enough in this country to make the rebels five times their strength, if
+they are not checked at once.”
+
+“Many,” said Evandale, “are flocking to them already, and they give out
+that they expect a strong body of the indulged presbyterians, headed by
+young Milnwood, as they call him, the son of the famous old roundhead,
+Colonel Silas Morton.”
+
+This speech produced a very different effect upon the hearers. Edith
+almost sunk from her seat with terror, while Claverhouse darted a glance
+of sarcastic triumph at Major Bellenden, which seemed to imply--“You see
+what are the principles of the young man you are pleading for.”
+
+“It’s a lie--it’s a d--d lie of these rascally fanatics,” said the Major
+hastily. “I will answer for Henry Morton as I would for my own son. He is
+a lad of as good church-principles as any gentleman in the Life-Guards. I
+mean no offence to any one. He has gone to church service with me fifty
+times, and I never heard him miss one of the responses in my life. Edith
+Bellenden can bear witness to it as well as I. He always read on the same
+Prayer-book with her, and could look out the lessons as well as the
+curate himself. Call him up; let him be heard for himself.”
+
+“There can be no harm in that,” said Claverhouse, “whether he be innocent
+or guilty.--Major Allan,” he said, turning to the officer next in
+command, “take a guide, and lead the regiment forward to Loudon-hill by
+the best and shortest road. Move steadily, and do not let the men blow
+the horses; Lord Evandale and I will overtake you in a quarter of an
+hour. Leave Bothwell with a party to bring up the prisoners.”
+
+Allan bowed, and left the apartment, with all the officers, excepting
+Claverhouse and the young nobleman. In a few minutes the sound of the
+military music and the clashing of hoofs announced that the horsemen were
+leaving the castle. The sounds were presently heard only at intervals,
+and soon died away entirely.
+
+While Claverhouse endeavoured to soothe the terrors of Lady Margaret, and
+to reconcile the veteran Major to his opinion of Morton, Evandale,
+getting the better of that conscious shyness which renders an ingenuous
+youth diffident in approaching the object of his affections, drew near to
+Miss Bellenden, and accosted her in a tone of mingled respect and
+interest.
+
+“We are to leave you,” he said, taking her hand, which he pressed with
+much emotion--“to leave you for a scene which is not without its dangers.
+Farewell, dear Miss Bellenden;--let me say for the first, and perhaps the
+last time, dear Edith! We part in circumstances so singular as may excuse
+some solemnity in bidding farewell to one, whom I have known so long, and
+whom I--respect so highly.”
+
+The manner differing from the words, seemed to express a feeling much
+deeper and more agitating than was conveyed in the phrase he made use of.
+It was not in woman to be utterly insensible to his modest and deep-felt
+expression of tenderness. Although borne down by the misfortunes and
+imminent danger of the man she loved, Edith was touched by the hopeless
+and reverential passion of the gallant youth, who now took leave of her
+to rush into dangers of no ordinary description.
+
+“I hope--I sincerely trust,” she said, “there is no danger. I hope there
+is no occasion for this solemn ceremonial--that these hasty insurgents
+will be dispersed rather by fear than force, and that Lord Evandale will
+speedily return to be what he must always be, the dear and valued friend
+of all in this castle.”
+
+“Of all,” he repeated, with a melancholy emphasis upon the word. “But be
+it so--whatever is near you is dear and valued to me, and I value their
+approbation accordingly. Of our success I am not sanguine. Our numbers
+are so few, that I dare not hope for so speedy, so bloodless, or so safe
+an end of this unhappy disturbance. These men are enthusiastic, resolute,
+and desperate, and have leaders not altogether unskilled in military
+matters. I cannot help thinking that the impetuosity of our Colonel is
+hurrying us against them rather prematurely. But there are few that have
+less reason to shun danger than I have.”
+
+Edith had now the opportunity she wished to bespeak the young nobleman’s
+intercession and protection for Henry Morton, and it seemed the only
+remaining channel of interest by which he could be rescued from impending
+destruction. Yet she felt at that moment as if, in doing so, she was
+abusing the partiality and confidence of the lover, whose heart was as
+open before her, as if his tongue had made an express declaration. Could
+she with honour engage Lord Evandale in the service of a rival? or could
+she with prudence make him any request, or lay herself under any
+obligation to him, without affording ground for hopes which she could
+never realize? But the moment was too urgent for hesitation, or even for
+those explanations with which her request might otherwise have been
+qualified.
+
+“I will but dispose of this young fellow,” said Claverhouse, from the
+other side of the hall, “and then, Lord Evandale--I am sorry to interrupt
+again your conversation--but then we must mount.--Bothwell, why do not
+you bring up the prisoner? and, hark ye, let two files load their
+carabines.”
+
+In these words, Edith conceived she heard the death-warrant of her lover.
+She instantly broke through the restraint which had hitherto kept her
+silent.
+
+“My Lord Evandale,” she said, “this young gentleman is a particular
+friend of my uncle’s--your interest must be great with your colonel--let
+me request your intercession in his favour--it will confer on my uncle a
+lasting obligation.”
+
+“You overrate my interest, Miss Bellenden,” said Lord Evandale; “I have
+been often unsuccessful in such applications, when I have made them on
+the mere score of humanity.”
+
+“Yet try once again for my uncle’s sake.”
+
+“And why not for your own?” said Lord Evandale. “Will you not allow me to
+think I am obliging you personally in this matter?--Are you so diffident
+of an old friend that you will not allow him even the satisfaction of
+thinking that he is gratifying your wishes?”
+
+“Surely--surely,” replied Edith; “you will oblige me infinitely--I am
+interested in the young gentleman on my uncle’s account--Lose no time,
+for God’s sake!”
+
+She became bolder and more urgent in her entreaties, for she heard the
+steps of the soldiers who were entering with their prisoner.
+
+“By heaven! then,” said Evandale, “he shall not die, if I should die in
+his place!--But will not you,” he said, resuming the hand, which in the
+hurry of her spirits she had not courage to withdraw, “will not you grant
+me one suit, in return for my zeal in your service?”
+
+“Any thing you can ask, my Lord Evandale, that sisterly affection can
+give.”
+
+“And is this all,” he continued, “all you can grant to my affection
+living, or my memory when dead?”
+
+“Do not speak thus, my lord,” said Edith, “you distress me, and do
+injustice to yourself. There is no friend I esteem more highly, or to
+whom I would more readily grant every mark of regard--providing--But”--A
+deep sigh made her turn her head suddenly, ere she had well uttered the
+last word; and, as she hesitated how to frame the exception with which
+she meant to close the sentence, she became instantly aware she had been
+overheard by Morton, who, heavily ironed and guarded by soldiers, was now
+passing behind her in order to be presented to Claverhouse. As their eyes
+met each other, the sad and reproachful expression of Morton’s glance
+seemed to imply that he had partially heard, and altogether
+misinterpreted, the conversation which had just passed. There wanted but
+this to complete Edith’s distress and confusion. Her blood, which rushed
+to her brow, made a sudden revulsion to her heart, and left her as pale
+as death. This change did not escape the attention of Evandale, whose
+quick glance easily discovered that there was between the prisoner and
+the object of his own attachment, some singular and uncommon connexion.
+He resigned the hand of Miss Bellenden, again surveyed the prisoner with
+more attention, again looked at Edith, and plainly observed the confusion
+which she could no longer conceal.
+
+“This,” he said, after a moment’s gloomy silence, “is, I believe, the
+young gentleman who gained the prize at the shooting match.”
+
+“I am not sure,” hesitated Edith--“yet--I rather think not,” scarce
+knowing what she replied.
+
+“It is he,” said Evandale, decidedly; “I know him well. A victor,” he
+continued, somewhat haughtily, “ought to have interested a fair spectator
+more deeply.”
+
+He then turned from Edith, and advancing towards the table at which
+Claverhouse now placed himself, stood at a little distance, resting on
+his sheathed broadsword, a silent, but not an unconcerned, spectator of
+that which passed.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+                    O, my Lord, beware of jealousy!
+                                        Othello.
+
+To explain the deep effect which the few broken passages of the
+conversation we have detailed made upon the unfortunate prisoner by whom
+they were overheard, it is necessary to say something of his previous
+state of mind, and of the origin of his acquaintance with Edith.
+
+Henry Morton was one of those gifted characters, which possess a force of
+talent unsuspected by the owner himself. He had inherited from his father
+an undaunted courage, and a firm and uncompromising detestation of
+oppression, whether in politics or religion. But his enthusiasm was
+unsullied by fanatic zeal, and unleavened by the sourness of the
+puritanical spirit. From these his mind had been freed, partly by the
+active exertions of his own excellent understanding, partly by frequent
+and long visits at Major Bellenden’s, where he had an opportunity of
+meeting with many guests whose conversation taught him, that goodness and
+worth were not limited to those of any single form of religious
+observance.
+
+The base parsimony of his uncle had thrown many obstacles in the way of
+his education; but he had so far improved the opportunities which offered
+themselves, that his instructors as well as his friends were surprised at
+his progress under such disadvantages. Still, however, the current of his
+soul was frozen by a sense of dependence, of poverty, above all, of an
+imperfect and limited education. These feelings impressed him with a
+diffidence and reserve which effectually concealed from all but very
+intimate friends, the extent of talent and the firmness of character,
+which we have stated him to be possessed of. The circumstances of the
+times had added to this reserve an air of indecision and of indifference;
+for, being attached to neither of the factions which divided the kingdom,
+he passed for dull, insensible, and uninfluenced by the feeling of
+religion or of patriotism. No conclusion, however, could be more unjust;
+and the reasons of the neutrality which he had hitherto professed had
+root in very different and most praiseworthy motives. He had formed few
+congenial ties with those who were the objects of persecution, and was
+disgusted alike by their narrow-minded and selfish party-spirit, their
+gloomy fanaticism, their abhorrent condemnation of all elegant studies or
+innocent exercises, and the envenomed rancour of their political hatred.
+But his mind was still more revolted by the tyrannical and oppressive
+conduct of the government, the misrule, license, and brutality of the
+soldiery, the executions on the scaffold, the slaughters in the open
+field, the free quarters and exactions imposed by military law, which
+placed the lives and fortunes of a free people on a level with Asiatic
+slaves. Condemning, therefore, each party as its excesses fell under his
+eyes, disgusted with the sight of evils which he had no means of
+alleviating, and hearing alternate complaints and exultations with which
+he could not sympathize, he would long ere this have left Scotland, had
+it not been for his attachment to Edith Bellenden.
+
+The earlier meetings of these young people had been at Charnwood, when
+Major Bellenden, who was as free from suspicion on such occasions as
+Uncle Toby himself, had encouraged their keeping each other constant
+company, without entertaining any apprehension of the natural
+consequences. Love, as usual in such cases, borrowed the name of
+friendship, used her language, and claimed her privileges. When Edith
+Bellenden was recalled to her mother’s castle, it was astonishing by what
+singular and recurring accidents she often met young Morton in her
+sequestered walks, especially considering the distance of their places of
+abode. Yet it somehow happened that she never expressed the surprise
+which the frequency of these rencontres ought naturally to have excited,
+and that their intercourse assumed gradually a more delicate character,
+and their meetings began to wear the air of appointments. Books,
+drawings, letters, were exchanged between them, and every trifling
+commission, given or executed, gave rise to a new correspondence. Love
+indeed was not yet mentioned between them by name, but each knew the
+situation of their own bosom, and could not but guess at that of the
+other. Unable to desist from an intercourse which possessed such charms
+for both, yet trembling for its too probable consequences, it had been
+continued without specific explanation until now, when fate appeared to
+have taken the conclusion into its own hands.
+
+It followed, as a consequence of this state of things, as well as of the
+diffidence of Morton’s disposition at this period, that his confidence in
+Edith’s return of his affection had its occasional cold fits. Her
+situations was in every respect so superior to his own, her worth so
+eminent, her accomplishments so many, her face so beautiful, and her
+manners so bewitching, that he could not but entertain fears that some
+suitor more favoured than himself by fortune, and more acceptable to
+Edith’s family than he durst hope to be, might step in between him and
+the object of his affections. Common rumour had raised up such a rival in
+Lord Evandale, whom birth, fortune, connexions, and political principles,
+as well as his frequent visits at Tillietudlem, and his attendance upon
+Lady Bellenden and her niece at all public places, naturally pointed out
+as a candidate for her favour. It frequently and inevitably happened,
+that engagements to which Lord Evandale was a party, interfered with the
+meeting of the lovers, and Henry could not but mark that Edith either
+studiously avoided speaking of the young nobleman, or did so with obvious
+reserve and hesitation.
+
+These symptoms, which, in fact, arose from the delicacy of her own
+feelings towards Morton himself, were misconstrued by his diffident
+temper, and the jealousy which they excited was fermented by the
+occasional observations of Jenny Dennison. This true-bred serving-damsel
+was, in her own person, a complete country coquette, and when she had no
+opportunity of teasing her own lovers, used to take some occasional
+opportunity to torment her young lady’s. This arose from no ill-will to
+Henry Morton, who, both on her mistress’s account and his own handsome
+form and countenance, stood high in her esteem. But then Lord Evandale
+was also handsome; he was liberal far beyond what Morton’s means could
+afford, and he was a lord, moreover, and, if Miss Edith Bellenden should
+accept his hand, she would become a baron’s lady, and, what was more,
+little Jenny Dennison, whom the awful housekeeper at Tillietudlem huffed
+about at her pleasure, would be then Mrs Dennison, Lady Evandale’s own
+woman, or perhaps her ladyship’s lady-in-waiting. The impartiality of
+Jenny Dennison, therefore, did not, like that of Mrs Quickly, extend to a
+wish that both the handsome suitors could wed her young lady; for it must
+be owned that the scale of her regard was depressed in favour of Lord
+Evandale, and her wishes in his favour took many shapes extremely
+tormenting to Morton; being now expressed as a friendly caution, now as
+an article of intelligence, and anon as a merry jest, but always tending
+to confirm the idea, that, sooner or later, his romantic intercourse with
+her young mistress must have a close, and that Edith Bellenden would, in
+spite of summer walks beneath the greenwood tree, exchange of verses, of
+drawings, and of books, end in becoming Lady Evandale.
+
+These hints coincided so exactly with the very point of his own
+suspicions and fears, that Morton was not long of feeling that jealousy
+which every one has felt who has truly loved, but to which those are most
+liable whose love is crossed by the want of friends’ consent, or some
+other envious impediment of fortune. Edith herself, unwittingly, and in
+the generosity of her own frank nature, contributed to the error into
+which her lover was in danger of falling. Their conversation once chanced
+to turn upon some late excesses committed by the soldiery on an occasion
+when it was said (inaccurately however) that the party was commanded by
+Lord Evandale. Edith, as true in friendship as in love, was somewhat hurt
+at the severe strictures which escaped from Morton on this occasion, and
+which, perhaps, were not the less strongly expressed on account of their
+supposed rivalry. She entered into Lord Evandale’s defence with such
+spirit as hurt Morton to the very soul, and afforded no small delight to
+Jenny Dennison, the usual companion of their walks. Edith perceived her
+error, and endeavoured to remedy it; but the impression was not so easily
+erased, and it had no small effect in inducing her lover to form that
+resolution of going abroad, which was disappointed in the manner we have
+already mentioned.
+
+The visit which he received from Edith during his confinement, the deep
+and devoted interest which she had expressed in his fate, ought of
+themselves to have dispelled his suspicions; yet, ingenious in tormenting
+himself, even this he thought might be imputed to anxious friendship, or,
+at most, to a temporary partiality, which would probably soon give way to
+circumstances, the entreaties of her friends, the authority of Lady
+Margaret, and the assiduities of Lord Evandale.
+
+“And to what do I owe it,” he said, “that I cannot stand up like a man,
+and plead my interest in her ere I am thus cheated out of it?--to what,
+but to the all-pervading and accursed tyranny, which afflicts at once our
+bodies, souls, estates, and affections! And is it to one of the pensioned
+cut-throats of this oppressive government that I must yield my
+pretensions to Edith Bellenden?--I will not, by Heaven!--It is a just
+punishment on me for being dead to public wrongs, that they have visited
+me with their injuries in a point where they can be least brooked or
+borne.”
+
+As these stormy resolutions boiled in his bosom, and while he ran over
+the various kinds of insult and injury which he had sustained in his own
+cause and in that of his country, Bothwell entered the tower, followed by
+two dragoons, one of whom carried handcuffs.
+
+“You must follow me, young man,” said he, “but first we must put you in
+trim.”
+
+“In trim!” said Morton. “What do you mean?”
+
+“Why, we must put on these rough bracelets. I durst not--nay, d--n it, I
+durst do any thing--but I would not for three hours’ plunder of a stormed
+town bring a whig before my Colonel without his being ironed. Come, come,
+young man, don’t look sulky about it.”
+
+He advanced to put on the irons; but, seizing the oaken-seat upon which
+he had rested, Morton threatened to dash out the brains of the first who
+should approach him.
+
+“I could manage you in a moment, my youngster,” said Bothwell, “but I had
+rather you would strike sail quietly.”
+
+Here indeed he spoke the truth, not from either fear or reluctance to
+adopt force, but because he dreaded the consequences of a noisy scuffle,
+through which it might probably be discovered that he had, contrary to
+express orders, suffered his prisoner to pass the night without being
+properly secured.
+
+“You had better be prudent,” he continued, in a tone which he meant to be
+conciliatory, “and don’t spoil your own sport. They say here in the
+castle that Lady Margaret’s niece is immediately to marry our young
+Captain, Lord Evandale. I saw them close together in the hall yonder, and
+I heard her ask him to intercede for your pardon. She looked so devilish
+handsome and kind upon him, that on my soul--But what the devil’s the
+matter with you?--You are as pale as a sheet--Will you have some brandy?”
+
+“Miss Bellenden ask my life of Lord Evandale?” said the prisoner,
+faintly.
+
+“Ay, ay; there’s no friend like the women--their interest carries all in
+court and camp.--Come, you are reasonable now--Ay, I thought you would
+come round.”
+
+Here he employed himself in putting on the fetters, against which,
+Morton, thunderstruck by this intelligence, no longer offered the least
+resistance.
+
+“My life begged of him, and by her!--ay--ay--put on the irons--my limbs
+shall not refuse to bear what has entered into my very soul--My life
+begged by Edith, and begged of Evandale!”
+
+“Ay, and he has power to grant it too,” said Bothwell--“He can do more
+with the Colonel than any man in the regiment.”
+
+And as he spoke, he and his party led their prisoner towards the hall. In
+passing behind the seat of Edith, the unfortunate prisoner heard enough,
+as he conceived, of the broken expressions which passed between Edith and
+Lord Evandale, to confirm all that the soldier had told him. That moment
+made a singular and instantaneous revolution in his character. The depth
+of despair to which his love and fortunes were reduced, the peril in
+which his life appeared to stand, the transference of Edith’s affections,
+her intercession in his favour, which rendered her fickleness yet more
+galling, seemed to destroy every feeling for which he had hitherto lived,
+but, at the same time, awakened those which had hitherto been smothered
+by passions more gentle though more selfish. Desperate himself, he
+determined to support the rights of his country, insulted in his person.
+His character was for the moment as effectually changed as the appearance
+of a villa, which, from being the abode of domestic quiet and happiness,
+is, by the sudden intrusion of an armed force, converted into a
+formidable post of defence.
+
+We have already said that he cast upon Edith one glance in which reproach
+was mingled with sorrow, as if to bid her farewell for ever; his next
+motion was to walk firmly to the table at which Colonel Grahame was
+seated.
+
+“By what right is it, sir,” said he firmly, and without waiting till he
+was questioned,--“By what right is it that these soldiers have dragged me
+from my family, and put fetters on the limbs of a free man?”
+
+“By my commands,” answered Claverhouse; “and I now lay my commands on you
+to be silent and hear my questions.”
+
+“I will not,” replied Morton, in a determined tone, while his boldness
+seemed to electrify all around him. “I will know whether I am in lawful
+custody, and before a civil magistrate, ere the charter of my country
+shall be forfeited in my person.”
+
+“A pretty springald this, upon my honour!” said Claverhouse.
+
+“Are you mad?” said Major Bellenden to his young friend. “For God’s sake,
+Henry Morton,” he continued, in a tone between rebuke and entreaty,
+“remember you are speaking to one of his majesty’s officers high in the
+service.”
+
+“It is for that very reason, sir,” returned Henry, firmly, “that I desire
+to know what right he has to detain me without a legal warrant. Were he a
+civil officer of the law I should know my duty was submission.”
+
+“Your friend, here,” said Claverhouse to the veteran, coolly, “is one of
+those scrupulous gentlemen, who, like the madman in the play, will not
+tie his cravat without the warrant of Mr Justice Overdo; but I will let
+him see, before we part, that my shoulder-knot is as legal a badge of
+authority as the mace of the Justiciary. So, waving this discussion, you
+will be pleased, young man, to tell me directly when you saw Balfour of
+Burley.”
+
+“As I know no right you have to ask such a question,” replied Morton, “I
+decline replying to it.”
+
+“You confessed to my sergeant,” said Claverhouse, “that you saw and
+entertained him, knowing him to be an intercommuned traitor; why are you
+not so frank with me?”
+
+“Because,” replied the prisoner, “I presume you are, from education,
+taught to understand the rights upon which you seem disposed to trample;
+and I am willing you should be aware there are yet Scotsmen who can
+assert the liberties of Scotland.”
+
+“And these supposed rights you would vindicate with your sword, I
+presume?” said Colonel Grahame.
+
+“Were I armed as you are, and we were alone upon a hill-side, you should
+not ask me the question twice.”
+
+“It is quite enough,” answered Claverhouse, calmly; “your language
+corresponds with all I have heard of you;--but you are the son of a
+soldier, though a rebellious one, and you shall not die the death of a
+dog; I will save you that indignity.”
+
+“Die in what manner I may,” replied Morton, “I will die like the son of a
+brave man; and the ignominy you mention shall remain with those who shed
+innocent blood.”
+
+“Make your peace, then, with Heaven, in five minutes’ space.--Bothwell,
+lead him down to the court-yard, and draw up your party.”
+
+The appalling nature of this conversation, and of its result, struck the
+silence of horror into all but the speakers. But now those who stood
+round broke forth into clamour and expostulation. Old Lady Margaret, who,
+with all the prejudices of rank and party, had not laid aside the
+feelings of her sex, was loud in her intercession.
+
+“O, Colonel Grahame,” she exclaimed, “spare his young blood! Leave him to
+the law--do not repay my hospitality by shedding men’s blood on the
+threshold of my doors!”
+
+“Colonel Grahame,” said Major Bellenden, “you must answer this violence.
+Don’t think, though I am old and feckless, that my friend’s son shall be
+murdered before my eyes with impunity. I can find friends that shall make
+you answer it.”
+
+“Be satisfied, Major Bellenden, I will answer it,” replied Claverhouse,
+totally unmoved; “and you, madam, might spare me the pain the resisting
+this passionate intercession for a traitor, when you consider the noble
+blood your own house has lost by such as he is.”
+
+“Colonel Grahame,” answered the lady, her aged frame trembling with
+anxiety, “I leave vengeance to God, who calls it his own. The shedding of
+this young man’s blood will not call back the lives that were dear to me;
+and how can it comfort me to think that there has maybe been another
+widowed mother made childless, like mysell, by a deed done at my very
+door-stane!”
+
+“This is stark madness,” said Claverhouse; “I must do my duty to church
+and state. Here are a thousand villains hard by in open rebellion, and
+you ask me to pardon a young fanatic who is enough of himself to set a
+whole kingdom in a blaze! It cannot be--Remove him, Bothwell.”
+
+She who was most interested in this dreadful decision, had twice strove
+to speak, but her voice had totally failed her; her mind refused to
+suggest words, and her tongue to utter them. She now sprung up and
+attempted to rush forward, but her strength gave way, and she would have
+fallen flat upon the pavement had she not been caught by her attendant.
+
+“Help!” cried Jenny,--“Help, for God’s sake! my young lady is dying.”
+
+At this exclamation, Evandale, who, during the preceding part of the
+scene, had stood motionless, leaning upon his sword, now stepped forward,
+and said to his commanding-officer, “Colonel Grahame, before proceeding
+in this matter, will you speak a word with me in private?”
+
+Claverhouse looked surprised, but instantly rose and withdrew with the
+young nobleman into a recess, where the following brief dialogue passed
+between them:
+
+“I think I need not remind you, Colonel, that when our family interest
+was of service to you last year in that affair in the privy-council, you
+considered yourself as laid under some obligation to us?”
+
+“Certainly, my dear Evandale,” answered Claverhouse, “I am not a man who
+forgets such debts; you will delight me by showing how I can evince my
+gratitude.”
+
+“I will hold the debt cancelled,” said Lord Evandale, “if you will spare
+this young man’s life.”
+
+“Evandale,” replied Grahame, in great surprise, “you are mad--absolutely
+mad--what interest can you have in this young spawn of an old
+roundhead?--His father was positively the most dangerous man in all
+Scotland, cool, resolute, soliderly, and inflexible in his cursed
+principles. His son seems his very model; you cannot conceive the
+mischief he may do. I know mankind, Evandale--were he an insignificant,
+fanatical, country booby, do you think I would have refused such a
+trifle as his life to Lady Margaret and this family? But this is a lad
+of fire, zeal, and education--and these knaves want but such a leader to
+direct their blind enthusiastic hardiness. I mention this, not as
+refusing your request, but to make you fully aware of the possible
+consequences--I will never evade a promise, or refuse to return an
+obligation--if you ask his life, he shall have it.”
+
+“Keep him close prisoner,” answered Evandale, “but do not be surprised if
+I persist in requesting you will not put him to death. I have most urgent
+reasons for what I ask.”
+
+“Be it so then,” replied Grahame;--“but, young man, should you wish in
+your future life to rise to eminence in the service of your king and
+country, let it be your first task to subject to the public interest, and
+to the discharge of your duty, your private passions, affections, and
+feelings. These are not times to sacrifice to the dotage of greybeards,
+or the tears of silly women, the measures of salutary severity which the
+dangers around compel us to adopt. And remember, that if I now yield this
+point, in compliance with your urgency, my present concession must exempt
+me from future solicitations of the same nature.”
+
+He then stepped forward to the table, and bent his eyes keenly on Morton,
+as if to observe what effect the pause of awful suspense between death
+and life, which seemed to freeze the bystanders with horror, would
+produce upon the prisoner himself. Morton maintained a degree of
+firmness, which nothing but a mind that had nothing left upon earth to
+love or to hope, could have supported at such a crisis.
+
+“You see him?” said Claverhouse, in a half whisper to Lord Evandale; “he
+is tottering on the verge between time and eternity, a situation more
+appalling than the most hideous certainty; yet his is the only cheek
+unblenched, the only eye that is calm, the only heart that keeps its
+usual time, the only nerves that are not quivering. Look at him well,
+Evandale--If that man shall ever come to head an army of rebels, you will
+have much to answer for on account of this morning’s work.” He then said
+aloud, “Young man, your life is for the present safe, through the
+intercession of your friends--Remove him, Bothwell, and let him be
+properly guarded, and brought along with the other prisoners.”
+
+“If my life,” said Morton, stung with the idea that he owed his respite
+to the intercession of a favoured rival, “if my life be granted at Lord
+Evandale’s request”--
+
+“Take the prisoner away, Bothwell,” said Colonel Grahame, interrupting
+him; “I have neither time to make nor to hear fine speeches.”
+
+Bothwell forced off Morton, saying, as he conducted him into the
+court-yard, “Have you three lives in your pocket, besides the one in your
+body, my lad, that you can afford to let your tongue run away with them
+at this rate? Come, come, I’ll take care to keep you out of the Colonel’s
+way; for, egad, you will not be five minutes with him before the next
+tree or the next ditch will be the word. So, come along to your
+companions in bondage.”
+
+Thus speaking, the sergeant, who, in his rude manner, did not altogether
+want sympathy for a gallant young man, hurried Morton down to the
+courtyard, where three other prisoners, (two men and a woman,) who had
+been taken by Lord Evandale, remained under an escort of dragoons.
+
+Meantime, Claverhouse took his leave of Lady Margaret. But it was
+difficult for the good lady to forgive his neglect of her intercession.
+
+“I have thought till now,” she said, “that the Tower of Tillietudlem
+might have been a place of succour to those that are ready to perish,
+even if they werena sae deserving as they should have been--but I see
+auld fruit has little savour--our suffering and our services have been of
+an ancient date.”
+
+“They are never to be forgotten by me, let me assure your ladyship,” said
+Claverhouse. “Nothing but what seemed my sacred duty could make me
+hesitate to grant a favour requested by you and the Major. Come, my good
+lady, let me hear you say you have forgiven me, and, as I return
+to-night, I will bring a drove of two hundred whigs with me, and pardon
+fifty head of them for your sake.”
+
+“I shall be happy to hear of your success, Colonel,” said Major
+Bellenden; “but take an old soldier’s advice, and spare blood when
+battle’s over,--and once more let me request to enter bail for young
+Morton.”
+
+“We will settle that when I return,” said Claverhouse. “Meanwhile, be
+assured his life shall be safe.”
+
+During this conversation, Evandale looked anxiously around for Edith; but
+the precaution of Jenny Dennison had occasioned her mistress being
+transported to her own apartment.
+
+Slowly and heavily he obeyed the impatient summons of Claverhouse, who,
+after taking a courteous leave of Lady Margaret and the Major, had
+hastened to the court-yard. The prisoners with their guard were already
+on their march, and the officers with their escort mounted and followed.
+All pressed forward to overtake the main body, as it was supposed they
+would come in sight of the enemy in little more than two hours.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+                    My hounds may a’ rin masterless,
+                    My hawks may fly frae tree to tree,
+                    My lord may grip my vassal lands,
+                    For there again maun I never be!
+                    Old Ballad.
+
+We left Morton, along with three companions in captivity, travelling in
+the custody of a small body of soldiers, who formed the rear-guard of the
+column under the command of Claverhouse, and were immediately under the
+charge of Sergeant Bothwell. Their route lay towards the hills in which
+the insurgent presbyterians were reported to be in arms. They had not
+prosecuted their march a quarter of a mile ere Claverhouse and Evandale
+galloped past them, followed by their orderly-men, in order to take their
+proper places in the column which preceded them. No sooner were they past
+than Bothwell halted the body which he commanded, and disencumbered
+Morton of his irons.
+
+“King’s blood must keep word,” said the dragoon. “I promised you should
+be civilly treated as far as rested with me.--Here, Corporal Inglis, let
+this gentleman ride alongside of the other young fellow who is prisoner;
+and you may permit them to converse together at their pleasure, under
+their breath, but take care they are guarded by two files with loaded
+carabines. If they attempt an escape, blow their brains out.--You cannot
+call that using you uncivilly,” he continued, addressing himself to
+Morton, “it’s the rules of war, you know.--And, Inglis, couple up the
+parson and the old woman, they are fittest company for each other, d--n
+me; a single file may guard them well enough. If they speak a word of
+cant or fanatical nonsense, let them have a strapping with a
+shoulder-belt. There’s some hope of choking a silenced parson; if he is
+not allowed to hold forth, his own treason will burst him.”
+
+Having made this arrangement, Bothwell placed himself at the head of the
+party, and Inglis, with six dragoons, brought up the rear. The whole then
+set forward at a trot, with the purpose of overtaking the main body of
+the regiment.
+
+Morton, overwhelmed with a complication of feelings, was totally
+indifferent to the various arrangements made for his secure custody, and
+even to the relief afforded him by his release from the fetters. He
+experienced that blank and waste of the heart which follows the hurricane
+of passion, and, no longer supported by the pride and conscious rectitude
+which dictated his answers to Claverhouse, he surveyed with deep
+dejection the glades through which he travelled, each turning of which
+had something to remind him of past happiness and disappointed love. The
+eminence which they now ascended was that from which he used first and
+last to behold the ancient tower when approaching or retiring from it;
+and, it is needless to add, that there he was wont to pause, and gaze
+with a lover’s delight on the battlements, which, rising at a distance
+out of the lofty wood, indicated the dwelling of her, whom he either
+hoped soon to meet or had recently parted from. Instinctively he turned
+his head back to take a last look of a scene formerly so dear to him, and
+no less instinctively he heaved a deep sigh. It was echoed by a loud
+groan from his companion in misfortune, whose eyes, moved, perchance, by
+similar reflections, had taken the same direction. This indication of
+sympathy, on the part of the captive, was uttered in a tone more coarse
+than sentimental; it was, however, the expression of a grieved spirit,
+and so far corresponded with the sigh of Morton. In turning their heads
+their eyes met, and Morton recognised the stolid countenance of Cuddie
+Headrigg, bearing a rueful expression, in which sorrow for his own lot
+was mixed with sympathy for the situation of his companion.
+
+“Hegh, sirs!” was the expression of the ci-devant ploughman of the mains
+of Tillietudlem; “it’s an unco thing that decent folk should be harled
+through the country this gate, as if they were a warld’s wonder.”
+
+“I am sorry to see you here, Cuddie,” said Morton, who, even in his own
+distress, did not lose feeling for that of others.
+
+“And sae am I, Mr Henry,” answered Cuddie, “baith for mysell and you; but
+neither of our sorrows will do muckle gude that I can see. To be sure,
+for me,” continued the captive agriculturist, relieving his heart by
+talking, though he well knew it was to little purpose,--“to be sure, for
+my part, I hae nae right to be here ava’, for I never did nor said a word
+against either king or curate; but my mither, puir body, couldna haud the
+auld tongue o’ her, and we maun baith pay for’t, it’s like.”
+
+“Your mother is their prisoner likewise?” said Morton, hardly knowing
+what he said.
+
+“In troth is she, riding ahint ye there like a bride, wi’ that auld carle
+o’ a minister that they ca’ Gabriel Kettledrummle--Deil that he had been
+in the inside of a drum or a kettle either, for my share o’ him! Ye see,
+we were nae sooner chased out o’ the doors o’ Milnwood, and your uncle
+and the housekeeper banging them to and barring them ahint us, as if we
+had had the plague on our bodies, that I says to my mother, What are we
+to do neist? for every hole and bore in the country will be steekit
+against us, now that ye hae affronted my auld leddy, and gar’t the
+troopers tak up young Milnwood. Sae she says to me, Binna cast doun, but
+gird yoursell up to the great task o’ the day, and gie your testimony
+like a man upon the mount o’ the Covenant.”
+
+“And so I suppose you went to a conventicle?” said Morton.
+
+“Ye sall hear,” continued Cuddie.--“Aweel, I kendna muckle better what to
+do, sae I e’en gaed wi’ her to an auld daft carline like hersell, and we
+got some water-broo and bannocks; and mony a weary grace they said, and
+mony a psalm they sang, or they wad let me win to, for I was amaist
+famished wi’ vexation. Aweel, they had me up in the grey o’ the morning,
+and I behoved to whig awa wi’ them, reason or nane, to a great gathering
+o’ their folk at the Miry-sikes; and there this chield, Gabriel
+Kettledrummle, was blasting awa to them on the hill-side, about lifting
+up their testimony, nae doubt, and ganging down to the battle of Roman
+Gilead, or some sic place. Eh, Mr Henry! but the carle gae them a screed
+o’ doctrine! Ye might hae heard him a mile down the wind--He routed like
+a cow in a fremd loaning.--Weel, thinks I, there’s nae place in this
+country they ca’ Roman Gilead--it will be some gate in the west
+muirlands; and or we win there I’ll see to slip awa wi’ this mither o’
+mine, for I winna rin my neck into a tether for ony Kettledrummle in the
+country side--Aweel,” continued Cuddie, relieving himself by detailing
+his misfortunes, without being scrupulous concerning the degree of
+attention which his companion bestowed on his narrative, “just as I was
+wearying for the tail of the preaching, cam word that the dragoons were
+upon us.--Some ran, and some cried, Stand! and some cried, Down wi’ the
+Philistines!--I was at my mither to get her awa sting and ling or the
+red-coats cam up, but I might as weel hae tried to drive our auld
+fore-a-hand ox without the goad--deil a step wad she budge.--Weel, after
+a’, the cleugh we were in was strait, and the mist cam thick, and there
+was good hope the dragoons wad hae missed us if we could hae held our
+tongues; but, as if auld Kettledrummle himsell hadna made din eneugh to
+waken the very dead, they behoved a’ to skirl up a psalm that ye wad hae
+heard as far as Lanrick!--Aweel, to mak a lang tale short, up cam my
+young Lord Evandale, skelping as fast as his horse could trot, and twenty
+red-coats at his back. Twa or three chields wad needs fight, wi’ the
+pistol and the whinger in the tae hand, and the Bible in the tother, and
+they got their crouns weel cloured; but there wasna muckle skaith dune,
+for Evandale aye cried to scatter us, but to spare life.”
+
+“And did you not resist?” said Morton, who probably felt, that, at that
+moment, he himself would have encountered Lord Evandale on much slighter
+grounds.
+
+“Na, truly,” answered Cuddie, “I keepit aye before the auld woman, and
+cried for mercy to life and limb; but twa o’ the red-coats cam up, and
+ane o’ them was gaun to strike my mither wi’ the side o’ his
+broadsword--So I got up my kebbie at them, and said I wad gie them as
+gude. Weel, they turned on me, and clinked at me wi’ their swords, and I
+garr’d my hand keep my head as weel as I could till Lord Evandale came
+up, and then I cried out I was a servant at Tillietudlem--ye ken
+yoursell he was aye judged to hae a look after the young leddy--and he
+bade me fling down my kent, and sae me and my mither yielded oursells
+prisoners. I’m thinking we wad hae been letten slip awa, but
+Kettledrummle was taen near us--for Andrew Wilson’s naig that he was
+riding on had been a dragooner lang syne, and the sairer Kettledrummle
+spurred to win awa, the readier the dour beast ran to the dragoons when
+he saw them draw up.--Aweel, when my mother and him forgathered, they
+set till the sodgers, and I think they gae them their kale through the
+reek! Bastards o’ the hure o’ Babylon was the best words in their wame.
+Sae then the kiln was in a bleeze again, and they brought us a’ three on
+wi’ them to mak us an example, as they ca’t.”
+
+“It is most infamous and intolerable oppression!” said Morton, half
+speaking to himself; “here is a poor peaceable fellow, whose only motive
+for joining the conventicle was a sense of filial piety, and he is
+chained up like a thief or murderer, and likely to die the death of one,
+but without the privilege of a formal trial, which our laws indulge to
+the worst malefactor! Even to witness such tyranny, and still more to
+suffer under it, is enough to make the blood of the tamest slave boil
+within him.”
+
+“To be sure,” said Cuddie, hearing, and partly understanding, what had
+broken from Morton in resentment of his injuries, “it is no right to
+speak evil o’ dignities--my auld leddy aye said that, as nae doubt she
+had a gude right to do, being in a place o’ dignity hersell; and troth I
+listened to her very patiently, for she aye ordered a dram, or a sowp
+kale, or something to us, after she had gien us a hearing on our duties.
+But deil a dram, or kale, or ony thing else--no sae muckle as a cup o’
+cauld water--do thae lords at Edinburgh gie us; and yet they are heading
+and hanging amang us, and trailing us after thae blackguard troopers, and
+taking our goods and gear as if we were outlaws. I canna say I tak it
+kind at their hands.”
+
+“It would be very strange if you did,” answered Morton, with suppressed
+emotion.
+
+“And what I like warst o’ a’,” continued poor Cuddie, “is thae ranting
+red-coats coming amang the lasses, and taking awa our joes. I had a sair
+heart o’ my ain when I passed the Mains down at Tillietudlem this morning
+about parritch-time, and saw the reek comin’ out at my ain lum-head, and
+kend there was some ither body than my auld mither sitting by the
+ingle-side. But I think my heart was e’en sairer, when I saw that
+hellicat trooper, Tam Halliday, kissing Jenny Dennison afore my face. I
+wonder women can hae the impudence to do sic things; but they are a’ for
+the red-coats. Whiles I hae thought o’ being a trooper mysell, when I
+thought naething else wad gae down wi’ Jenny--and yet I’ll no blame her
+ower muckle neither, for maybe it was a’ for my sake that she loot Tam
+touzle her tap-knots that gate.”
+
+“For your sake?” said Morton, unable to refrain from taking some interest
+in a story which seemed to bear a singular coincidence with his own.
+
+“E’en sae, Milnwood,” replied Cuddie; “for the puir quean gat leave to
+come near me wi’ speaking the loun fair, (d--n him, that I suld say sae!)
+and sae she bade me God speed, and she wanted to stap siller into my
+hand;--I’se warrant it was the tae half o’ her fee and bountith, for she
+wared the ither half on pinners and pearlings to gang to see us shoot yon
+day at the popinjay.”
+
+“And did you take it, Cuddie?” said Morton.
+
+“Troth did I no, Milnwood; I was sic a fule as to fling it back to
+her--my heart was ower grit to be behadden to her, when I had seen that
+loon slavering and kissing at her. But I was a great fule for my pains;
+it wad hae dune my mither and me some gude, and she’ll ware’t a’ on duds
+and nonsense.”
+
+There was here a deep and long pause. Cuddie was probably engaged in
+regretting the rejection of his mistress’s bounty, and Henry Morton in
+considering from what motives, or upon what conditions, Miss Bellenden
+had succeeded in procuring the interference of Lord Evandale in his
+favour.
+
+Was it not possible, suggested his awakening hopes, that he had construed
+her influence over Lord Evandale hastily and unjustly? Ought he to
+censure her severely, if, submitting to dissimulation for his sake, she
+had permitted the young nobleman to entertain hopes which she had no
+intention to realize? Or what if she had appealed to the generosity which
+Lord Evandale was supposed to possess, and had engaged his honour to
+protect the person of a favoured rival?
+
+Still, however, the words which he had overheard recurred ever and anon
+to his remembrance, with a pang which resembled the sting of an adder.
+
+“Nothing that she could refuse him!--was it possible to make a more
+unlimited declaration of predilection? The language of affection has not,
+within the limits of maidenly delicacy, a stronger expression. She is
+lost to me wholly, and for ever; and nothing remains for me now, but
+vengeance for my own wrongs, and for those which are hourly inflicted on
+my country.”
+
+Apparently, Cuddie, though with less refinement, was following out a
+similar train of ideas; for he suddenly asked Morton in a low
+whisper--“Wad there be ony ill in getting out o’ thae chields’ hands an
+ane could compass it?”
+
+“None in the world,” said Morton; “and if an opportunity occurs of doing
+so, depend on it I for one will not let it slip.”
+
+“I’m blythe to hear ye say sae,” answered Cuddie. “I’m but a puir silly
+fallow, but I canna think there wad be muckle ill in breaking out by
+strength o’ hand, if ye could mak it ony thing feasible. I am the lad
+that will ne’er fear to lay on, if it were come to that; but our auld
+leddy wad hae ca’d that a resisting o’ the king’s authority.”
+
+“I will resist any authority on earth,” said Morton, “that invades
+tyrannically my chartered rights as a freeman; and I am determined I will
+not be unjustly dragged to a jail, or perhaps a gibbet, if I can possibly
+make my escape from these men either by address or force.”
+
+“Weel, that’s just my mind too, aye supposing we hae a feasible
+opportunity o’ breaking loose. But then ye speak o’ a charter; now these
+are things that only belang to the like o’ you that are a gentleman, and
+it mightna bear me through that am but a husbandman.”
+
+“The charter that I speak of,” said Morton, “is common to the meanest
+Scotchman. It is that freedom from stripes and bondage which was claimed,
+as you may read in Scripture, by the Apostle Paul himself, and which
+every man who is free-born is called upon to defend, for his own sake and
+that of his countrymen.”
+
+“Hegh, sirs!” replied Cuddie, “it wad hae been lang or my Leddy Margaret,
+or my mither either, wad hae fund out sic a wiselike doctrine in the
+Bible! The tane was aye graning about giving tribute to Caesar, and the
+tither is as daft wi’ her whiggery. I hae been clean spoilt, just wi’
+listening to twa blethering auld wives; but if I could get a gentleman
+that wad let me tak on to be his servant, I am confident I wad be a clean
+contrary creature; and I hope your honour will think on what I am saying,
+if ye were ance fairly delivered out o’ this house of bondage, and just
+take me to be your ain wally-de-shamble.”
+
+“My valet, Cuddie?” answered Morton; “alas! that would be sorry
+preferment, even if we were at liberty.”
+
+“I ken what ye’re thinking--that because I am landward-bred, I wad be
+bringing ye to disgrace afore folk; but ye maun ken I’m gay gleg at the
+uptak; there was never ony thing dune wi’ hand but I learned gay readily,
+’septing reading, writing, and ciphering; but there’s no the like o’ me
+at the fit-ba’, and I can play wi’ the broadsword as weel as Corporal
+Inglis there. I hae broken his head or now, for as massy as he’s riding
+ahint us.--And then ye’ll no be gaun to stay in this country?”--said he,
+stopping and interrupting himself.
+
+“Probably not,” replied Morton.
+
+“Weel, I carena a boddle. Ye see I wad get my mither bestowed wi’ her
+auld graning tittie, auntie Meg, in the Gallowgate o’ Glasgow, and then I
+trust they wad neither burn her for a witch, or let her fail for fau’t o’
+fude, or hang her up for an auld whig wife; for the provost, they say, is
+very regardfu’ o’ sic puir bodies. And then you and me wad gang and pouss
+our fortunes, like the folk i’ the daft auld tales about Jock the
+Giant-killer and Valentine and Orson; and we wad come back to merry
+Scotland, as the sang says, and I wad tak to the stilts again, and turn
+sic furs on the bonny rigs o’ Milnwood holms, that it wad be worth a pint
+but to look at them.”
+
+“I fear,” said Morton, “there is very little chance, my good friend
+Cuddie, of our getting back to our old occupation.”
+
+“Hout, stir--hout, stir,” replied Cuddie, “it’s aye gude to keep up a
+hardy heart--as broken a ship’s come to land.--But what’s that I hear?
+never stir, if my auld mither isna at the preaching again! I ken the
+sough o’ her texts, that sound just like the wind blawing through the
+spence; and there’s Kettledrummle setting to wark, too--Lordsake, if the
+sodgers anes get angry, they’ll murder them baith, and us for company!”
+
+Their farther conversation was in fact interrupted by a blatant noise
+which rose behind them, in which the voice of the preacher emitted, in
+unison with that of the old woman, tones like the grumble of a bassoon
+combined with the screaking of a cracked fiddle. At first, the aged pair
+of sufferers had been contented to condole with each other in smothered
+expressions of complaint and indignation; but the sense of their injuries
+became more pungently aggravated as they communicated with each other,
+and they became at length unable to suppress their ire.
+
+“Woe, woe, and a threefold woe unto you, ye bloody and violent
+persecutors!” exclaimed the Reverend Gabriel Kettledrummle--“Woe, and
+threefold woe unto you, even to the breaking of seals, the blowing of
+trumpets, and the pouring forth of vials!”
+
+“Ay--ay--a black cast to a’ their ill-fa’ur’d faces, and the outside o’
+the loof to them at the last day!” echoed the shrill counter-tenor of
+Mause, falling in like the second part of a catch.
+
+“I tell you,” continued the divine, “that your rankings and your
+ridings--your neighings and your prancings--your bloody, barbarous,
+and inhuman cruelties--your benumbing, deadening, and debauching
+the conscience of poor creatures by oaths, soul-damning and
+self-contradictory, have arisen from earth to Heaven like a foul and
+hideous outcry of perjury for hastening the wrath to come--hugh! hugh!
+hugh!”
+
+“And I say,” cried Mause, in the same tune, and nearly at the same time,
+“that wi’ this auld breath o’ mine, and it’s sair taen down wi’ the
+asthmatics and this rough trot”--
+
+“Deil gin they would gallop,” said Cuddie, “wad it but gar her haud her
+tongue!”
+
+“--Wi’ this auld and brief breath,” continued Mause, “will I testify
+against the backslidings, defections, defalcations, and declinings of the
+land--against the grievances and the causes of wrath!”
+
+“Peace, I pr’ythee--Peace, good woman,” said the preacher, who had just
+recovered from a violent fit of coughing, and found his own anathema
+borne down by Mause’s better wind; “peace, and take not the word out of
+the mouth of a servant of the altar.--I say, I uplift my voice and tell
+you, that before the play is played out--ay, before this very sun gaes
+down, ye sall learn that neither a desperate Judas, like your prelate
+Sharpe that’s gane to his place; nor a sanctuary-breaking Holofernes,
+like bloody-minded Claverhouse; nor an ambitious Diotrephes, like the lad
+Evandale; nor a covetous and warld-following Demas, like him they ca’
+Sergeant Bothwell, that makes every wife’s plack and her meal-ark his
+ain; neither your carabines, nor your pistols, nor your broadswords, nor
+your horses, nor your saddles, bridles, surcingles, nose-bags, nor
+martingales, shall resist the arrows that are whetted and the bow that is
+bent against you!”
+
+“That shall they never, I trow,” echoed Mause; “castaways are they ilk
+ane o’ them--besoms of destruction, fit only to be flung into the fire
+when they have sweepit the filth out o’ the Temple--whips of small cords,
+knotted for the chastisement of those wha like their warldly gudes and
+gear better than the Cross or the Covenant, but when that wark’s done,
+only meet to mak latchets to the deil’s brogues.”
+
+“Fiend hae me,” said Cuddie, addressing himself to Morton, “if I dinna
+think our mither preaches as weel as the minister!--But it’s a sair pity
+o’ his hoast, for it aye comes on just when he’s at the best o’t, and
+that lang routing he made air this morning, is sair again him too--Deil
+an I care if he wad roar her dumb, and then he wad hae’t a’ to answer for
+himsell--It’s lucky the road’s rough, and the troopers are no taking
+muckle tent to what they say, wi’ the rattling o’ the horse’s feet; but
+an we were anes on saft grund, we’ll hear news o’ a’ this.”
+
+Cuddie’s conjecture were but too true. The words of the prisoners had not
+been much attended to while drowned by the clang of horses’ hoofs on a
+rough and stony road; but they now entered upon the moorlands, where the
+testimony of the two zealous captives lacked this saving accompaniment.
+And, accordingly, no sooner had their steeds begun to tread heath and
+green sward, and Gabriel Kettledrummle had again raised his voice with,
+“Also I uplift my voice like that of a pelican in the wilderness”--
+
+“And I mine,” had issued from Mause, “like a sparrow on the house-tops”--
+
+When “Hollo, ho!” cried the corporal from the rear; “rein up your
+tongues, the devil blister them, or I’ll clap a martingale on them.”
+
+“I will not peace at the commands of the profane,” said Gabriel.
+
+“Nor I neither,” said Mause, “for the bidding of no earthly potsherd,
+though it be painted as red as a brick from the Tower of Babel, and ca’
+itsell a corporal.”
+
+“Halliday,” cried the corporal, “hast got never a gag about thee,
+man?--We must stop their mouths before they talk us all dead.”
+
+Ere any answer could be made, or any measure taken in consequence of the
+corporal’s motion, a dragoon galloped towards Sergeant Bothwell, who was
+considerably a-head of the party he commanded. On hearing the orders
+which he brought, Bothwell instantly rode back to the head of his party,
+ordered them to close their files, to mend their pace, and to move with
+silence and precaution, as they would soon be in presence of the enemy.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+               Quantum in nobis, we’ve thought good
+               To save the expense of Christian blood,
+               And try if we, by mediation
+               Of treaty, and accommodation,
+               Can end the quarrel, and compose
+               This bloody duel without blows.
+                                             Butler.
+
+The increased pace of the party of horsemen soon took away from their
+zealous captives the breath, if not the inclination, necessary for
+holding forth. They had now for more than a mile got free of the
+woodlands, whose broken glades had, for some time, accompanied them after
+they had left the woods of Tillietudlem. A few birches and oaks still
+feathered the narrow ravines, or occupied in dwarf-clusters the hollow
+plains of the moor. But these were gradually disappearing; and a wide and
+waste country lay before them, swelling into bare hills of dark heath,
+intersected by deep gullies; being the passages by which torrents forced
+their course in winter, and during summer the disproportioned channels
+for diminutive rivulets that winded their puny way among heaps of stones
+and gravel, the effects and tokens of their winter fury;--like so many
+spendthrifts dwindled down by the consequences of former excesses and
+extravagance. This desolate region seemed to extend farther than the eye
+could reach, without grandeur, without even the dignity of mountain
+wildness, yet striking, from the huge proportion which it seemed to bear
+to such more favoured spots of the country as were adapted to
+cultivation, and fitted for the support of man; and thereby impressing
+irresistibly the mind of the spectator with a sense of the omnipotence of
+nature, and the comparative inefficacy of the boasted means of
+amelioration which man is capable of opposing to the disadvantages of
+climate and soil.
+
+It is a remarkable effect of such extensive wastes, that they impose an
+idea of solitude even upon those who travel through them in considerable
+numbers; so much is the imagination affected by the disproportion between
+the desert around and the party who are traversing it. Thus the members
+of a caravan of a thousand souls may feel, in the deserts of Africa or
+Arabia, a sense of loneliness unknown to the individual traveller, whose
+solitary course is through a thriving and cultivated country.
+
+It was not, therefore, without a peculiar feeling of emotion, that Morton
+beheld, at the distance of about half a mile, the body of the cavalry to
+which his escort belonged, creeping up a steep and winding path which
+ascended from the more level moor into the hills. Their numbers, which
+appeared formidable when they crowded through narrow roads, and seemed
+multiplied by appearing partially, and at different points, among the
+trees, were now apparently diminished by being exposed at once to view,
+and in a landscape whose extent bore such immense proportion to the
+columns of horses and men, which, showing more like a drove of black
+cattle than a body of soldiers, crawled slowly along the face of the
+hill, their force and their numbers seeming trifling and contemptible.
+
+“Surely,” said Morton to himself, “a handful of resolute men may defend
+any defile in these mountains against such a small force as this is,
+providing that their bravery is equal to their enthusiasm.”
+
+While he made these reflections, the rapid movement of the horsemen who
+guarded him, soon traversed the space which divided them from their
+companions; and ere the front of Claverhouse’s column had gained the brow
+of the hill which they had been seen ascending, Bothwell, with his
+rearguard and prisoners, had united himself, or nearly so, with the main
+body led by his commander. The extreme difficulty of the road, which was
+in some places steep, and in others boggy, retarded the progress of the
+column, especially in the rear; for the passage of the main body, in many
+instances, poached up the swamps through which they passed, and rendered
+them so deep, that the last of their followers were forced to leave the
+beaten path, and find safer passage where they could.
+
+On these occasions, the distresses of the Reverend Gabriel Kettledrummle
+and of Mause Headrigg, were considerably augmented, as the brutal
+troopers, by whom they were guarded, compelled them, at all risks which
+such inexperienced riders were likely to incur, to leap their horses over
+drains and gullies, or to push them through morasses and swamps.
+
+“Through the help of the Lord I have luppen ower a wall,” cried poor
+Mause, as her horse was, by her rude attendants, brought up to leap the
+turf enclosure of a deserted fold, in which feat her curch flew off,
+leaving her grey hairs uncovered.
+
+“I am sunk in deep mire where there is no standing--I am come into deep
+waters where the floods overflow me,” exclaimed Kettledrummle, as the
+charger on which he was mounted plunged up to the saddle-girths in a
+well-head, as the springs are called which supply the marshes, the sable
+streams beneath spouting over the face and person of the captive
+preacher.
+
+These exclamations excited shouts of laughter among their military
+attendants; but events soon occurred which rendered them all sufficiently
+serious.
+
+The leading files of the regiment had nearly attained the brow of the
+steep hill we have mentioned, when two or three horsemen, speedily
+discovered to be a part of their own advanced guard, who had acted as a
+patrol, appeared returning at full gallop, their horses much blown, and
+the men apparently in a disordered flight. They were followed upon the
+spur by five or six riders, well armed with sword and pistol, who halted
+upon the top of the hill, on observing the approach of the Life-Guards.
+One or two who had carabines dismounted, and, taking a leisurely and
+deliberate aim at the foremost rank of the regiment, discharged their
+pieces, by which two troopers were wounded, one severely. They then
+mounted their horses, and disappeared over the ridge of the hill,
+retreating with so much coolness as evidently showed, that, on the one
+hand, they were undismayed by the approach of so considerable a force as
+was moving against them, and conscious, on the other, that they were
+supported by numbers sufficient for their protection. This incident
+occasioned a halt through the whole body of cavalry; and while
+Claverhouse himself received the report of his advanced guard, which had
+been thus driven back upon the main body, Lord Evandale advanced to the
+top of the ridge over which the enemy’s horsemen had retired, and Major
+Allan, Cornet Grahame, and the other officers, employed themselves in
+extricating the regiment from the broken ground, and drawing them up on
+the side of the hill in two lines, the one to support the other.
+
+The word was then given to advance; and in a few minutes the first lines
+stood on the brow and commanded the prospect on the other side. The
+second line closed upon them, and also the rear-guard with the prisoners;
+so that Morton and his companions in captivity could, in like manner, see
+the form of opposition which was now offered to the farther progress of
+their captors.
+
+The brow of the hill, on which the royal Life-Guards were now drawn up,
+sloped downwards (on the side opposite to that which they had ascended)
+with a gentle declivity, for more than a quarter of a mile, and presented
+ground, which, though unequal in some places, was not altogether
+unfavourable for the manoeuvres of cavalry, until near the bottom, when
+the slope terminated in a marshy level, traversed through its whole
+length by what seemed either a natural gully, or a deep artificial drain,
+the sides of which were broken by springs, trenches filled with water,
+out of which peats and turf had been dug, and here and there by some
+straggling thickets of alders which loved the moistness so well, that
+they continued to live as bushes, although too much dwarfed by the sour
+soil and the stagnant bog-water to ascend into trees. Beyond this ditch,
+or gully, the ground arose into a second heathy swell, or rather hill,
+near to the foot of which, and’ as if with the object of defending the
+broken ground and ditch that covered their front, the body of insurgents
+appeared to be drawn up with the purpose of abiding battle.
+
+Their infantry was divided into three lines. The first, tolerably
+provided with fire-arms, were advanced almost close to the verge of the
+bog, so that their fire must necessarily annoy the royal cavalry as they
+descended the opposite hill, the whole front of which was exposed, and
+would probably be yet more fatal if they attempted to cross the morass.
+Behind this first line was a body of pikemen, designed for their support
+in case the dragoons should force the passage of the marsh. In their rear
+was their third line, consisting of countrymen armed with scythes set
+straight on poles, hay-forks, spits, clubs, goads, fish-spears, and such
+other rustic implements as hasty resentment had converted into
+instruments of war. On each flank of the infantry, but a little backward
+from the bog, as if to allow themselves dry and sound ground whereon to
+act in case their enemies should force the pass, there was drawn up a
+small body of cavalry, who were, in general, but indifferently armed, and
+worse mounted, but full of zeal for the cause, being chiefly either
+landholders of small property, or farmers of the better class, whose
+means enabled them to serve on horseback. A few of those who had been
+engaed in driving back the advanced guard of the royalists, might now be
+seen returning slowly towards their own squadrons. These were the only
+individuals of the insurgent army which seemed to be in motion. All the
+others stood firm and motionless, as the grey stones that lay scattered
+on the heath around them.
+
+The total number of the insurgents might amount to about a thousand men;
+but of these there were scarce a hundred cavalry, nor were the half of
+them even tolerably armed. The strength of their position, however, the
+sense of their having taken a desperate step, the superiority of their
+numbers, but, above all, the ardour of their enthusiasm, were the means
+on which their leaders reckoned, for supplying the want of arms,
+equipage, and military discipline.
+
+On the side of the hill that rose above the array of battle which they
+had adopted, were seen the women and even the children, whom zeal,
+opposed to persecution, had driven into the wilderness. They seemed
+stationed there to be spectators of the engagement, by which their own
+fate, as well as that of their parents, husbands, and sons, was to be
+decided. Like the females of the ancient German tribes, the shrill cries
+which they raised, when they beheld the glittering ranks of their enemy
+appear on the brow of the opposing eminence, acted as an incentive to
+their relatives to fight to the last in defence of that which was dearest
+to them. Such exhortations seemed to have their full and emphatic effect;
+for a wild halloo, which went from rank to rank on the appearance of the
+soldiers, intimated the resolution of the insurgents to fight to the
+uttermost.
+
+As the horsemen halted their lines on the ridge of the hill, their
+trumpets and kettle-drums sounded a bold and warlike flourish of menace
+and defiance, that rang along the waste like the shrill summons of a
+destroying angel. The wanderers, in answer, united their voices, and sent
+forth, in solemn modulation, the two first verses of the seventy-sixth
+Psalm, according to the metrical version of the Scottish Kirk:
+
+                    “In Judah’s land God is well known,
+                    His name’s in Israel great:
+                    In Salem is his tabernacle,
+                    In Zion is his seat.
+                    There arrows of the bow he brake,
+                    The shield, the sword, the war.
+                    More glorious thou than hills of prey,
+                    More excellent art far.”
+
+A shout, or rather a solemn acclamation, attended the close of the
+stanza; and after a dead pause, the second verse was resumed by the
+insurgents, who applied the destruction of the Assyrians as prophetical
+of the issue of their own impending contest:--
+
+               “Those that were stout of heart are spoil’d,
+               They slept their sleep outright;
+               And none of those their hands did find,
+               That were the men of might.
+
+               When thy rebuke, O Jacob’s God,
+               Had forth against them past,
+               Their horses and their chariots both
+               Were in a deep sleep cast.”
+
+There was another acclamation, which was followed by the most profound
+silence.
+
+While these solemn sounds, accented by a thousand voices, were prolonged
+amongst the waste hills, Claverhouse looked with great attention on the
+ground, and on the order of battle which the wanderers had adopted, and
+in which they determined to await the assault.
+
+“The churls,” he said, “must have some old soldiers with them; it was no
+rustic that made choice of that ground.”
+
+“Burley is said to be with them for certain,” answered Lord Evandale,
+“and also Hackston of Rathillet, Paton of Meadowhead, Cleland, and some
+other men of military skill.”
+
+“I judged as much,” said Claverhouse, “from the style in which these
+detached horsemen leapt their horses over the ditch, as they returned to
+their position. It was easy to see that there were a few roundheaded
+troopers amongst them, the true spawn of the old Covenant. We must manage
+this matter warily as well as boldly. Evandale, let the officers come to
+this knoll.”
+
+He moved to a small moss-grown cairn, probably the resting-place of some
+Celtic chief of other times, and the call of “Officers to the front,”
+ soon brought them around their commander.
+
+“I do not call you around me, gentlemen,” said Claverhouse, “in the
+formal capacity of a council of war, for I will never turn over on others
+the responsibility which my rank imposes on myself. I only want the
+benefit of your opinions, reserving to myself, as most men do when they
+ask advice, the liberty of following my own.--What say you, Cornet
+Grahame? Shall we attack these fellows who are bellowing younder? You are
+youngest and hottest, and therefore will speak first whether I will or
+no.”
+
+“Then,” said Cornet Grahame, “while I have the honour to carry the
+standard of the Life-Guards, it shall never, with my will, retreat before
+rebels. I say, charge, in God’s name and the King’s!”
+
+“And what say you, Allan?” continued Claverhouse, “for Evandale is so
+modest, we shall never get him to speak till you have said what you have
+to say.”
+
+“These fellows,” said Major Allan, an old cavalier officer of experience,
+“are three or four to one--I should not mind that much upon a fair field,
+but they are posted in a very formidable strength, and show no
+inclination to quit it. I therefore think, with deference to Cornet
+Grahame’s opinion, that we should draw back to Tillietudlem, occupy the
+pass between the hills and the open country, and send for reinforcements
+to my Lord Ross, who is lying at Glasgow with a regiment of infantry. In
+this way we should cut them off from the Strath of Clyde, and either
+compel them to come out of their stronghold, and give us battle on fair
+terms, or, if they remain here, we will attack them so soon as our
+infantry has joined us, and enabled us to act with effect among these
+ditches, bogs, and quagmires.”
+
+“Pshaw!” said the young Cornet, “what signifies strong ground, when it is
+only held by a crew of canting, psalm-singing old women?”
+
+“A man may fight never the worse,” retorted Major Allan, “for honouring
+both his Bible and Psalter. These fellows will prove as stubborn as
+steel; I know them of old.”
+
+“Their nasal psalmody,” said the Cornet, “reminds our Major of the race
+of Dunbar.”
+
+“Had you been at that race, young man,” retorted Allan, “you would have
+wanted nothing to remind you of it for the longest day you have to live.”
+
+“Hush, hush, gentlemen,” said Claverhouse, “these are untimely
+repartees.--I should like your advice well, Major Allan, had our rascally
+patrols (whom I will see duly punished) brought us timely notice of the
+enemy’s numbers and position. But having once presented ourselves before
+them in line, the retreat of the Life-Guards would argue gross timidity,
+and be the general signal for insurrection throughout the west. In which
+case, so far from obtaining any assistance from my Lord Ross, I promise
+you I should have great apprehensions of his being cut off before we can
+join him, or he us. A retreat would have quite the same fatal effect upon
+the king’s cause as the loss of a battle--and as to the difference of
+risk or of safety it might make with respect to ourselves, that, I am
+sure, no gentleman thinks a moment about. There must be some gorges or
+passes in the morass through which we can force our way; and, were we
+once on firm ground, I trust there is no man in the Life-Guards who
+supposes our squadrons, though so weak in numbers, are unable to trample
+into dust twice the number of these unpractised clowns.--What say you, my
+Lord Evandale?”
+
+“I humbly think,” said Lord Evandale, “that, go the day how it will, it
+must be a bloody one; and that we shall lose many brave fellows, and
+probably be obliged to slaughter a great number of these misguided men,
+who, after all, are Scotchmen and subjects of King Charles as well as we
+are.”
+
+“Rebels! rebels! and undeserving the name either of Scotchmen or of
+subjects,” said Claverhouse; “but come, my lord, what does your opinion
+point at?”
+
+“To enter into a treaty with these ignorant and misled men,” said the
+young nobleman.
+
+“A treaty! and with rebels having arms in their hands? Never while I
+live,” answered his commander.
+
+“At least send a trumpet and flag of truce, summoning them to lay down
+their weapons and disperse,” said Lord Evandale, “upon promise of a free
+pardon--I have always heard, that had that been done before the battle of
+Pentland hills, much blood might have been saved.”
+
+“Well,” said Claverhouse, “and who the devil do you think would carry a
+summons to these headstrong and desperate fanatics? They acknowledge no
+laws of war. Their leaders, who have been all most active in the murder
+of the Archbishop of St Andrews, fight with a rope round their necks, and
+are likely to kill the messenger, were it but to dip their followers in
+loyal blood, and to make them as desperate of pardon as themselves.”
+
+“I will go myself,” said Evandale, “if you will permit me. I have often
+risked my blood to spill that of others, let me do so now in order to
+save human lives.”
+
+“You shall not go on such an errand, my lord,” said Claverhouse; “your
+rank and situation render your safety of too much consequence to the
+country in an age when good principles are so rare.--Here’s my brother’s
+son Dick Grahame, who fears shot or steel as little as if the devil had
+given him armour of proof against it, as the fanatics say he has given to
+his uncle.
+
+     [Note:  Cornet Grahame. There was actually a young cornet of the
+     Life-Guards named Grahame, and probably some relation of
+     Claverhouse, slain in the skirmish of Drumclog. In the old ballad on
+     the Battle of Bothwell Bridge, Claverhouse is said to have continued
+     the slaughter of the fugitives in revenge of this gentleman’s death.
+
+     “Haud up your hand,” then Monmouth said; “Gie quarters to these men
+     for me;” But bloody Claver’se swore an oath, His kinsman’s death
+     avenged should be.
+
+     The body of this young man was found shockingly mangled after the
+     battle, his eyes pulled out, and his features so much defaced, that
+     it was impossible to recognise him. The Tory writers say that this
+     was done by the Whigs; because, finding the name Grahame wrought in
+     the young gentleman’s neckcloth, they took the corpse for that of
+     Claver’se himself. The Whig authorities give a different account,
+     from tradition, of the cause of Cornet Grahame’s body being thus
+     mangled. He had, say they, refused his own dog any food on the
+     morning of the battle, affirming, with an oath, that he should have
+     no breakfast but upon the flesh of the Whigs. The ravenous animal,
+     it is said, flew at his master as soon as he fell, and lacerated his
+     face and throat.
+
+     These two stories are presented to the reader, leaving it to him to
+     judge whether it is most likely that a party of persecuted and
+     insurgent fanatics should mangle a body supposed to be that of their
+     chief enemy, in the same manner as several persons present at
+     Drumclog had shortly before treated the person of Archbishop Sharpe;
+     or that a domestic dog should, for want of a single breakfast,
+     become so ferocious as to feed on his own master, selecting his body
+     from scores that were lying around, equally accessible to his
+     ravenous appetite.]
+
+He shall take a flag of truce and a trumpet, and ride down to the edge of
+the morass to summon them to lay down their arms and disperse.”
+
+“With all my soul, Colonel,” answered the Cornet; “and I’ll tie my cravat
+on a pike to serve for a white flag--the rascals never saw such a pennon
+of Flanders lace in their lives before.”
+
+“Colonel Grahame,” said Evandale, while the young officer prepared for
+his expedition, “this young gentleman is your nephew and your apparent
+heir; for God’s sake, permit me to go. It was my counsel, and I ought to
+stand the risk.”
+
+“Were he my only son,” said Claverhouse, “this is no cause and no time to
+spare him. I hope my private affections will never interfere with my
+public duty. If Dick Grahame falls, the loss is chiefly mine; were your
+lordship to die, the King and country would be the sufferers.--Come,
+gentlemen, each to his post. If our summons is unfavourably received, we
+will instantly attack; and, as the old Scottish blazon has it, God shaw
+the right!”
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+               With many a stout thwack and many a bang,
+               Hard crab-tree and old iron rang.
+                                             Hudibras.
+
+Cornet Richard Grahame descended the hill, bearing in his hand the
+extempore flag of truce, and making his managed horse keep time by bounds
+and curvets to the tune which he whistled. The trumpeter followed. Five
+or six horsemen, having something the appearance of officers, detached
+themselves from each flank of the Presbyterian army, and, meeting in the
+centre, approached the ditch which divided the hollow as near as the
+morass would permit. Towards this group, but keeping the opposite side of
+the swamp, Cornet Grahame directed his horse, his motions being now the
+conspicuous object of attention to both armies; and, without
+disparagement to the courage of either, it is probable there was a
+general wish on both sides that this embassy might save the risks and
+bloodshed of the impending conflict.
+
+When he had arrived right opposite to those, who, by their advancing to
+receive his message, seemed to take upon themselves as the leaders of the
+enemy, Cornet Grahame commanded his trumpeter to sound a parley. The
+insurgents having no instrument of martial music wherewith to make the
+appropriate reply, one of their number called out with a loud, strong
+voice, demanding to know why he approached their leaguer.
+
+“To summon you in the King’s name, and in that of Colonel John Grahame of
+Claverhouse, specially commissioned by the right honourable Privy Council
+of Scotland,” answered the Cornet, “to lay down your arms, and dismiss
+the followers whom ye have led into rebellion, contrary to the laws of
+God, of the King, and of the country.”
+
+“Return to them that sent thee,” said the insurgent leader, “and tell
+them that we are this day in arms for a broken Covenant and a persecuted
+Kirk; tell them that we renounce the licentious and perjured Charles
+Stewart, whom you call king, even as he renounced the Covenant, after
+having once and again sworn to prosecute to the utmost of his power all
+the ends thereof, really, constantly, and sincerely, all the days of his
+life, having no enemies but the enemies of the Covenant, and no friends
+but its friends. Whereas, far from keeping the oath he had called God and
+angels to witness, his first step, after his incoming into these
+kingdoms, was the fearful grasping at the prerogative of the Almighty, by
+that hideous Act of Supremacy, together with his expulsing, without
+summons, libel, or process of law, hundreds of famous faithful preachers,
+thereby wringing the bread of life out of the mouth of hungry, poor
+creatures, and forcibly cramming their throats with the lifeless,
+saltless, foisonless, lukewarm drammock of the fourteen false prelates,
+and their sycophantic, formal, carnal, scandalous creature-curates.”
+
+“I did not come to hear you preach,” answered the officer, “but to know,
+in one word, if you will disperse yourselves, on condition of a free
+pardon to all but the murderers of the late Archbishop of St Andrews; or
+whether you will abide the attack of his majesty’s forces, which will
+instantly advance upon you.”
+
+“In one word, then,” answered the spokesman, “we are here with our swords
+on our thighs, as men that watch in the night. We will take one part and
+portion together, as brethren in righteousness. Whosoever assails us in
+our good cause, his blood be on his own head. So return to them that sent
+thee, and God give them and thee a sight of the evil of your ways!”
+
+“Is not your name,” said the Cornet, who began to recollect having seen
+the person whom he was now speaking with, “John Balfour of Burley?”
+
+“And if it be,” said the spokesman, “hast thou aught to say against it?”
+
+“Only,” said the Cornet, “that, as you are excluded from pardon in the
+name of the King and of my commanding officer, it is to these country
+people, and not to you, that I offer it; and it is not with you, or such
+as you, that I am sent to treat.”
+
+“Thou art a young soldier, friend,” said Burley, “and scant well learned
+in thy trade, or thou wouldst know that the bearer of a flag of truce
+cannot treat with the army but through their officers; and that if he
+presume to do otherwise, he forfeits his safe conduct.”
+
+While speaking these words, Burley unslung his carabine, and held it in
+readiness.
+
+“I am not to be intimidated from the discharge of my duty by the menaces
+of a murderer,” said Cornet Grahame.--“Hear me, good people; I proclaim,
+in the name of the King and of my commanding officer, full and free
+pardon to all, excepting”--
+
+“I give thee fair warning,” said Burley, presenting his piece.
+
+“A free pardon to all,” continued the young officer, still addressing the
+body of the insurgents--“to all but”--
+
+“Then the Lord grant grace to thy soul--amen!” said Burley.
+
+With these words he fired, and Cornet Richard Grahame dropped from his
+horse. The shot was mortal. The unfortunate young gentleman had only
+strength to turn himself on the ground and mutter forth, “My poor
+mother!” when life forsook him in the effort. His startled horse fled
+back to the regiment at the gallop, as did his scarce less affrighted
+attendant.
+
+“What have you done?” said one of Balfour’s brother officers.
+
+“My duty,” said Balfour, firmly. “Is it not written, Thou shalt be
+zealous even to slaying? Let those, who dare, now venture to speak of
+truce or pardon!”
+
+Claverhouse saw his nephew fall. He turned his eye on Evandale, while a
+transitory glance of indescribable emotion disturbed, for a second’s
+space, the serenity of his features, and briefly said, “You see the
+event.”
+
+“I will avenge him, or die!” exclaimed Evandale; and, putting his horse
+into motion, rode furiously down the hill, followed by his own troop, and
+that of the deceased Cornet, which broke down without orders; and, each
+striving to be the foremost to revenge their young officer, their ranks
+soon fell into confusion. These forces formed the first line of the
+royalists. It was in vain that Claverhouse exclaimed, “Halt! halt! this
+rashness will undo us.” It was all that he could accomplish, by galloping
+along the second line, entreating, commanding, and even menacing the men
+with his sword, that he could restrain them from following an example so
+contagious.
+
+“Allan,” he said, as soon as he had rendered the men in some degree more
+steady, “lead them slowly down the hill to support Lord Evandale, who is
+about to need it very much.--Bothwell, thou art a cool and a daring
+fellow”--
+
+“Ay,” muttered Bothwell, “you can remember that in a moment like this.”
+
+“Lead ten file up the hollow to the right,” continued his commanding
+officer, “and try every means to get through the bog; then form and
+charge the rebels in flank and rear, while they are engaged with us in
+front.”
+
+Bothwell made a signal of intelligence and obedience, and moved off with
+his party at a rapid pace.
+
+Meantime, the disaster which Claverhouse had apprehended, did not fail to
+take place. The troopers, who, with Lord Evandale, had rushed down upon
+the enemy, soon found their disorderly career interrupted by the
+impracticable character of the ground. Some stuck fast in the morass as
+they attempted to struggle through, some recoiled from the attempt and
+remained on the brink, others dispersed to seek a more favourable place
+to pass the swamp. In the midst of this confusion, the first line of the
+enemy, of which the foremost rank knelt, the second stooped, and the
+third stood upright, poured in a close and destructive fire that emptied
+at least a score of saddles, and increased tenfold the disorder into
+which the horsemen had fallen. Lord Evandale, in the meantime, at the
+head of a very few well-mounted men, had been able to clear the ditch,
+but was no sooner across than he was charged by the left body of the
+enemy’s cavalry, who, encouraged by the small number of opponents that
+had made their way through the broken ground, set upon them with the
+utmost fury, crying, “Woe, woe to the uncircumcised Philistines! down
+with Dagon and all his adherents!”
+
+The young nobleman fought like a lion; but most of his followers were
+killed, and he himself could not have escaped the same fate but for a
+heavy fire of carabines, which Claverhouse, who had now advanced with the
+second line near to the ditch, poured so effectually upon the enemy, that
+both horse and foot for a moment began to shrink, and Lord Evandale,
+disengaged from his unequal combat, and finding himself nearly alone,
+took the opportunity to effect his retreat through the morass. But
+notwithstanding the loss they had sustained by Claverhouse’s first fire,
+the insurgents became soon aware that the advantage of numbers and of
+position were so decidedly theirs, that, if they could but persist in
+making a brief but resolute defence, the Life-Guards must necessarily be
+defeated. Their leaders flew through their ranks, exhorting them to stand
+firm, and pointing out how efficacious their fire must be where both men
+and horse were exposed to it; for the troopers, according to custom,
+fired without having dismounted. Claverhouse, more than once, when he
+perceived his best men dropping by a fire which they could not
+effectually return, made desperate efforts to pass the bog at various
+points, and renew the battle on firm ground and fiercer terms. But the
+close fire of the insurgents, joined to the natural difficulties of the
+pass, foiled his attempts in every point.
+
+“We must retreat,” he said to Evandale, “unless Bothwell can effect a
+diversion in our favour. In the meantime, draw the men out of fire, and
+leave skirmishers behind these patches of alderbushes to keep the enemy
+in check.”
+
+These directions being accomplished, the appearance of Bothwell with his
+party was earnestly expected. But Bothwell had his own disadvantages to
+struggle with. His detour to the right had not escaped the penetrating
+observation of Burley, who made a corresponding movement with the left
+wing of the mounted insurgents, so that when Bothwell, after riding a
+considerable way up the valley, found a place at which the bog could be
+passed, though with some difficulty, he perceived he was still in front
+of a superior enemy. His daring character was in no degree checked by
+this unexpected opposition.
+
+“Follow me, my lads!” he called to his men; “never let it be said that we
+turned our backs before these canting roundheads!”
+
+With that, as if inspired by the spirit of his ancestors, he shouted,
+“Bothwell! Bothwell!” and throwing himself into the morass, he struggled
+through it at the head of his party, and attacked that of Burley with
+such fury, that he drove them back above a pistol-shot, killing three men
+with his own hand. Burley, perceiving the consequences of a defeat on
+this point, and that his men, though more numerous, were unequal to the
+regulars in using their arms and managing their horses, threw himself
+across Bothwell’s way, and attacked him hand to hand. Each of the
+combatants was considered as the champion of his respective party, and a
+result ensued more usual in romance than in real story. Their followers,
+on either side, instantly paused, and looked on as if the fate of the day
+were to be decided by the event of the combat between these two redoubted
+swordsmen. The combatants themselves seemed of the same opinion; for,
+after two or three eager cuts and pushes had been exchanged, they paused,
+as if by joint consent, to recover the breath which preceding exertions
+had exhausted, and to prepare for a duel in which each seemed conscious
+he had met his match.
+
+
+[Illustration: The Duel--230]
+
+
+“You are the murdering villain, Burley,” said Bothwell, griping his sword
+firmly, and setting his teeth close--“you escaped me once, but”--(he
+swore an oath too tremendous to be written down)--“thy head is worth its
+weight of silver, and it shall go home at my saddle-bow, or my saddle
+shall go home empty for me.”
+
+“Yes,” replied Burley, with stern and gloomy deliberation, “I am that
+John Balfour, who promised to lay thy head where thou shouldst never lift
+it again; and God do so unto me, and more also, if I do not redeem my
+word!”
+
+“Then a bed of heather, or a thousand merks!” said Bothwell, striking at
+Burley with his full force.
+
+“The sword of the Lord and of Gideon!” answered Balfour, as he parried
+and returned the blow.
+
+There have seldom met two combatants more equally matched in strength of
+body, skill in the management of their weapons and horses, determined
+courage, and unrelenting hostility. After exchanging many desperate
+blows, each receiving and inflicting several wounds, though of no great
+consequence, they grappled together as if with the desperate impatience
+of mortal hate, and Bothwell, seizing his enemy by the shoulder-belt,
+while the grasp of Balfour was upon his own collar, they came headlong to
+the ground. The companions of Burley hastened to his assistance, but were
+repelled by the dragoons, and the battle became again general. But
+nothing could withdraw the attention of the combatants from each other,
+or induce them to unclose the deadly clasp in which they rolled together
+on the ground, tearing, struggling, and foaming, with the inveteracy of
+thorough-bred bull-dogs.
+
+Several horses passed over them in the melee without their quitting hold
+of each other, until the sword-arm of Bothwell was broken by the kick of
+a charger. He then relinquished his grasp with a deep and suppressed
+groan, and both combatants started to their feet. Bothwell’s right hand
+dropped helpless by his side, but his left griped to the place where his
+dagger hung; it had escaped from the sheath in the struggle,--and, with a
+look of mingled rage and despair, he stood totally defenceless, as
+Balfour, with a laugh of savage joy, flourished his sword aloft, and then
+passed it through his adversary’s body. Bothwell received the thrust
+without falling--it had only grazed on his ribs. He attempted no farther
+defence, but, looking at Burley with a grin of deadly hatred,
+exclaimed--“Base peasant churl, thou hast spilt the blood of a line
+of kings!”
+
+“Die, wretch!--die!” said Balfour, redoubling the thrust with better aim;
+and, setting his foot on Bothwell’s body as he fell, he a third time
+transfixed him with his sword.--“Die, bloodthirsty dog! die as thou hast
+lived!--die, like the beasts that perish--hoping nothing--believing
+nothing--”
+
+“And fearing nothing!” said Bothwell, collecting the last effort of
+respiration to utter these desperate words, and expiring as soon as they
+were spoken.
+
+To catch a stray horse by the bridle, throw himself upon it, and rush to
+the assistance of his followers, was, with Burley, the affair of a
+moment. And as the fall of Bothwell had given to the insurgents all the
+courage of which it had deprived his comrades, the issue of this partial
+contest did not remain long undecided. Several soldiers were slain, the
+rest driven back over the morass and dispersed, and the victorious
+Burley, with his party, crossed it in their turn, to direct against
+Claverhouse the very manoeuvre which he had instructed Bothwell to
+execute. He now put his troop in order, with the view of attacking the
+right wing of the royalists; and, sending news of his success to the main
+body, exhorted them, in the name of Heaven, to cross the marsh, and work
+out the glorious work of the Lord by a general attack upon the enemy.
+
+Meanwhile, Claverhouse, who had in some degree remedied the confusion
+occasioned by the first irregular and unsuccessful attack, and reduced
+the combat in front to a distant skirmish with firearms, chiefly
+maintained by some dismounted troopers whom he had posted behind the
+cover of the shrub-by copses of alders, which in some places covered the
+edge of the morass, and whose close, cool, and well-aimed fire
+greatly annoyed the enemy, and concealed their own deficiency of
+numbers,--Claverhouse, while he maintained the contest in this manner,
+still expecting that a diversion by Bothwell and his party might
+facilitate a general attack, was accosted by one of the dragoons, whose
+bloody face and jaded horse bore witness he was come from hard service.
+
+“What is the matter, Halliday?” said Claverhouse, for he knew every man
+in his regiment by name--“Where is Bothwell?”
+
+“Bothwell is down,” replied Halliday, “and many a pretty fellow with
+him.”
+
+“Then the king,” said Claverhouse, with his usual composure, “has lost a
+stout soldier.--The enemy have passed the marsh, I suppose?”
+
+“With a strong body of horse, commanded by the devil incarnate that
+killed Bothwell,” answered the terrified soldier.
+
+“Hush! hush!” said Claverhouse, putting his finger on his lips, “not a
+word to any one but me.--Lord Evandale, we must retreat. The fates will
+have it so. Draw together the men that are dispersed in the skirmishing
+work. Let Allan form the regiment, and do you two retreat up the hill in
+two bodies, each halting alternately as the other falls back. I’ll keep
+the rogues in check with the rear-guard, making a stand and facing from
+time to time. They will be over the ditch presently, for I see their
+whole line in motion and preparing to cross; therefore lose no time.”
+
+“Where is Bothwell with his party?” said Lord Evandale, astonished at the
+coolness of his commander.
+
+“Fairly disposed of,” said Claverhouse, in his ear--“the king has lost a
+servant, and the devil has got one. But away to business, Evandale--ply
+your spurs and get the men together. Allan and you must keep them steady.
+This retreating is new work for us all; but our turn will come round
+another day.”
+
+Evandale and Allan betook themselves to their task; but ere they had
+arranged the regiment for the purpose of retreating in two alternate
+bodies, a considerable number of the enemy had crossed the marsh.
+Claverhouse, who had retained immediately around his person a few of his
+most active and tried men, charged those who had crossed in person, while
+they were yet disordered by the broken ground. Some they killed, others
+they repulsed into the morass, and checked the whole so as to enable the
+main body, now greatly diminished, as well as disheartened by the loss
+they had sustained, to commence their retreat up the hill.
+
+But the enemy’s van being soon reinforced and supported, compelled
+Claverhouse to follow his troops. Never did man, however, better maintain
+the character of a soldier than he did that day. Conspicuous by his black
+horse and white feather, he was first in the repeated charges which he
+made at every favourable opportunity, to arrest the progress of the
+pursuers, and to cover the retreat of his regiment. The object of aim to
+every one, he seemed as if he were impassive to their shot. The
+superstitious fanatics, who looked upon him as a man gifted by the Evil
+Spirit with supernatural means of defence, averred that they saw the
+bullets recoil from his jack-boots and buff-coat like hailstones from a
+rock of granite, as he galloped to and fro amid the storm of the battle.
+Many a whig that day loaded his musket with a dollar cut into slugs, in
+order that a silver bullet (such was their belief) might bring down the
+persecutor of the holy kirk, on whom lead had no power.
+
+“Try him with the cold steel,” was the cry at every renewed
+charge--“powder is wasted on him. Ye might as weel shoot at the Auld
+Enemy himsell.”
+
+     [Note: Proof against Shot given by Satan. The belief of the
+     Covenanters that their principal enemies, and Claverhouse in
+     particular, had obtained from the Devil a charm which rendered them
+     proof against leaden bullets, led them to pervert even the
+     circumstances of his death. Howie of Lochgoin, after giving some
+     account of the battle of Killicrankie, adds:
+
+     “The battle was very bloody, and by Mackay’s third fire, Claverhouse
+     fell, of whom historians give little account; but it has been said
+     for certain, that his own waiting-servant, taking a resolution to
+     rid the world of this truculent bloody monster, and knowing he had
+     proof of lead, shot him with a silver button he had before taken off
+     his own coat for that purpose. However, he fell, and with him
+     Popery, and King James’s interest in Scotland.”--God’s Judgment on
+     Persecutors, p. xxxix.
+
+     Original note.--“Perhaps some may think this anent proof of a shot a
+     paradox, and be ready to object here, as formerly, concerning Bishop
+     Sharpe and Dalziel--‘How can the Devil have or give a power to save
+     life?’ Without entering upon the thing in its reality, I shall only
+     observe, 1st, That it is neither in his power, or of his nature, to
+     be a saviour of men’s lives; he is called Apollyon the destroyer.
+     2d, That even in this case he is said only to give enchantment
+     against one kind of metal, and this does not save life: for the lead
+     would not take Sharpe or Claverhouse’s lives, yet steel and silver
+     would do it; and for Dalziel, though he died not on the field, he
+     did not escape the arrows of the Almighty.”--Ibidem.]
+
+But though this was loudly shouted, yet the awe on the insurgents’ minds
+was such, that they gave way before Claverhouse as before a supernatural
+being, and few men ventured to cross swords with him. Still, however, he
+was fighting in retreat, and with all the disadvantages attending that
+movement. The soldiers behind him, as they beheld the increasing number
+of enemies who poured over the morass, became unsteady; and, at every
+successive movement, Major Allan and Lord Evandale found it more and more
+difficult to bring them to halt and form line regularly, while, on the
+other hand, their motions in the act of retreating became, by degrees,
+much more rapid than was consistent with good order. As the retiring
+soldiers approached nearer to the top of the ridge, from which in so
+luckless an hour they had descended, the panic began to increase. Every
+one became impatient to place the brow of the hill between him and the
+continued fire of the pursuers; nor could any individual think it
+reasonable that he should be the last in the retreat, and thus sacrifice
+his own safety for that of others. In this mood, several troopers set
+spurs to their horses and fled outright, and the others became so
+unsteady in their movements and formations, that their officers every
+moment feared they would follow the same example.
+
+Amid this scene of blood and confusion, the trampling of the horses, the
+groans of the wounded, the continued fire of the enemy, which fell in a
+succession of unintermitted musketry, while loud shouts accompanied each
+bullet which the fall of a trooper showed to have been successfully
+aimed--amid all the terrors and disorders of such a scene, and when it
+was dubious how soon they might be totally deserted by their dispirited
+soldiery, Evandale could not forbear remarking the composure of his
+commanding officer. Not at Lady Margaret’s breakfast-table that morning
+did his eye appear more lively, or his demeanour more composed. He had
+closed up to Evandale for the purpose of giving some orders, and picking
+out a few men to reinforce his rear-guard.
+
+“If this bout lasts five minutes longer,” he said, in a whisper, “our
+rogues will leave you, my lord, old Allan, and myself, the honour of
+fighting this battle with our own hands. I must do something to disperse
+the musketeers who annoy them so hard, or we shall be all shamed. Don’t
+attempt to succour me if you see me go down, but keep at the head of your
+men; get off as you can, in God’s name, and tell the king and the council
+I died in my duty!”
+
+So saying, and commanding about twenty stout men to follow him, he gave,
+with this small body, a charge so desperate and unexpected, that he drove
+the foremost of the pursuers back to some distance. In the confusion of
+the assault he singled out Burley, and, desirous to strike terror into
+his followers, he dealt him so severe a blow on the head, as cut through
+his steel head-piece, and threw him from his horse, stunned for the
+moment, though unwounded. A wonderful thing it was afterwards thought,
+that one so powerful as Balfour should have sunk under the blow of a man,
+to appearance so slightly made as Claverhouse; and the vulgar, of course,
+set down to supernatural aid the effect of that energy, which a
+determined spirit can give to a feebler arm. Claverhouse had, in this
+last charge, however, involved himself too deeply among the insurgents,
+and was fairly surrounded.
+
+Lord Evandale saw the danger of his commander, his body of dragoons being
+then halted, while that commanded by Allan was in the act of retreating.
+Regardless of Claverhouse’s disinterested command to the contrary, he
+ordered the party which he headed to charge down hill and extricate their
+Colonel. Some advanced with him--most halted and stood uncertain--many
+ran away. With those who followed Evandale, he disengaged Claverhouse.
+His assistance just came in time, for a rustic had wounded his horse in a
+most ghastly manner by the blow of a scythe, and was about to repeat the
+stroke when Lord Evandale cut him down. As they got out of the press,
+they looked round them. Allan’s division had ridden clear over the hill,
+that officer’s authority having proved altogether unequal to halt them.
+Evandale’s troop was scattered and in total confusion.
+
+“What is to be done, Colonel?” said Lord Evandale.
+
+“We are the last men in the field, I think,” said Claverhouse; “and when
+men fight as long as they can, there is no shame in flying. Hector
+himself would say, ‘Devil take the hindmost,’ when there are but twenty
+against a thousand.--Save yourselves, my lads, and rally as soon as you
+can.--Come, my lord, we must e’en ride for it.”
+
+So saying, he put spurs to his wounded horse; and the generous animal, as
+if conscious that the life of his rider depended on his exertions,
+pressed forward with speed, unabated either by pain or loss of blood.
+
+     [Note:  Claverhouse’s Charger. It appears, from the letter of
+     Claverhouse afterwards quoted, that the horse on which he rode at
+     Drumclog was not black, but sorrel. The author has been misled as to
+     the colour by the many extraordinary traditions current in Scotland
+     concerning Claverhouse’s famous black charger, which was generally
+     believed to have been a gift to its rider from the Author of Evil,
+     who is said to have performed the Caesarean operation upon its dam.
+     This horse was so fleet, and its rider so expert, that they are said
+     to have outstripped and coted, or turned, a hare upon the Bran-Law,
+     near the head of Moffat Water, where the descent is so precipitous,
+     that no merely earthly horse could keep its feet, or merely mortal
+     rider could keep the saddle.
+
+     There is a curious passage in the testimony of John Dick, one of the
+     suffering Presbyterians, in which the author, by describing each of
+     the persecutors by their predominant qualities or passions, shows
+     how little their best-loved attributes would avail them in the great
+     day of judgment. When he introduces Claverhouse, it is to reproach
+     him with his passion for horses in general, and for that steed in
+     particular, which was killed at Drumclog, in the manner described in
+     the text:
+
+     “As for that bloodthirsty wretch, Claverhouse, how thinks he to
+     shelter himself that day? Is it possible the pitiful thing can be so
+     mad as to think to secure himself by the fleetness of his horse, (a
+     creature he has so much respect for, that he regarded more the loss
+     of his horse at Drumclog, than all the men that fell there, and sure
+     there fell prettier men on either side than himself?) No,
+     sure--could he fall upon a chemist that could extract the spirit
+     out of all the horses in the world, and infuse them into his one,
+     though he were on that horse never so well mounted, he need not
+     dream of escaping.”--The Testimony to the Doctrine, Worship,
+     Discipline, and Government of the Church of Scotland, as it was
+     left in write by that truly pious and eminently faithful, and now
+     glorified Martyr, Mr John Dick. To which is added, his last Speech
+     and Behaviour on the Scaffold, on 5th March, 1684, which day he
+     sealed this testimony. 57 pp. 4to. No year or place of publication.
+
+     The reader may perhaps receive some farther information on the
+     subject of Cornet Grahame’s death and the flight of Claverhouse,
+     from the following Latin lines, a part of a poem entitled, Bellum
+     Bothuellianum, by Andrew Guild, which exists in manuscript in the
+     Advocates’ Library:--
+
+     Mons est occiduus, surgit qui celsus in oris,
+     (Nomine Loudunum) fossis puteisque profundis
+     Quot scatet hic tellus, et aprico gramine tectus:
+     Huc collecta (ait), numeroso milite cincta,
+     Turba ferox, matres, pueri, innuptæque puellæ,
+     Quam parat egregia Græmus dispersere turma.
+     Venit et primo campo discedere cogit;
+     Post hos et alios, cœno provolvit inerti;
+     At numerosa cohors, campum dispersa per omnem,
+     Circumfusa, ruit; turmasque, indagine captas,
+     Aggreditur; virtus non hic, nec profuit ensis;
+     Corripuere fugam, viridi sed gramine tectis,
+     Precipitata perit, fossis, pars ultima, quorum
+     Cornipedes hæsere luto, sessore rejecto:
+     Tum rabiosa cohors, misereri nescia, stratos
+     Invadit laceratque viros: hic signifer, eheu!
+     Trajectus globulo, Græmus, quo fortior alter,
+     Inter Scotigenas fuerat, nece justior ullus:
+     Hunc manibus rapuere feris, faciemque virilem
+     Fœdarunt, lingua, auriculis, manibusque resectis,
+     Aspera diffuso spargentes saxa cerebro:
+     Vix dux ipse fuga salvo, namque exta trahebat
+     Vulnere tardatus sonipes generosus hiante:
+     Insequitur clamore cohors fanatica, namque
+     Crudelis semper timidus, si vicerit unquam.
+     
+     M.S. Bellum Bothuellianum.]
+
+A few officers and soldiers followed him, but in a very irregular and
+tumultuary manner. The flight of Claverhouse was the signal for all the
+stragglers, who yet offered desultory resistance, to fly as fast as they
+could, and yield up the field of battle to the victorious insurgents.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+          But see! through the fast-flashing lightnings of war,
+          What steed to the desert flies frantic and far?
+                                                  Campbell.
+
+During the severe skirmish of which we have given the details, Morton,
+together with Cuddie and his mother, and the Reverend Gabriel
+Kettledrummle, remained on the brow of the hill, near to the small cairn,
+or barrow, beside which Claverhouse had held his preliminary council of
+war, so that they had a commanding view of the action which took place in
+the bottom. They were guarded by Corporal Inglis and four soldiers, who,
+as may readily be supposed, were much more intent on watching the
+fluctuating fortunes of the battle, than in attending to what passed
+among their prisoners.
+
+“If you lads stand to their tackle,” said Cuddie, “we’ll hae some chance
+o’ getting our necks out o’ the brecham again; but I misdoubt them--they
+hae little skeel o’ arms.”
+
+“Much is not necessary, Cuddie,” answered Morton; “they have a strong
+position, and weapons in their hands, and are more than three times the
+number of their assailants. If they cannot fight for their freedom now,
+they and theirs deserve to lose it for ever.”
+
+“O, sirs,” exclaimed Mause, “here’s a goodly spectacle indeed! My spirit
+is like that of the blessed Elihu, it burns within me--my bowels are as
+wine which lacketh vent--they are ready to burst like new bottles. O,
+that He may look after His ain people in this day of judgment and
+deliverance!--And now, what ailest thou, precious Mr Gabriel
+Kettledrummle? I say, what ailest thou, that wert a Nazarite purer than
+snow, whiter than milk, more ruddy than sulphur,” (meaning, perhaps,
+sapphires,)--“I say, what ails thee now, that thou art blacker than a
+coal, that thy beauty is departed, and thy loveliness withered like a dry
+potsherd? Surely it is time to be up and be doing, to cry loudly and to
+spare not, and to wrestle for the puir lads that are yonder testifying
+with their ain blude and that of their enemies.”
+
+This expostulation implied a reproach on Mr Kettledrummle, who, though an
+absolute Boanerges, or son of thunder, in the pulpit, when the enemy were
+afar, and indeed sufficiently contumacious, as we have seen, when in
+their power, had been struck dumb by the firing, shouts, and shrieks,
+which now arose from the valley, and--as many an honest man might have
+been, in a situation where he could neither fight nor fly--was too much
+dismayed to take so favourable an opportunity to preach the terrors of
+presbytery, as the courageous Mause had expected at his hand, or even to
+pray for the successful event of the battle. His presence of mind was
+not, however, entirely lost, any more than his jealous respect for his
+reputation as a pure and powerful preacher of the word.
+
+“Hold your peace, woman!” he said, “and do not perturb my inward
+meditations and the wrestlings wherewith I wrestle.--But of a verity the
+shooting of the foemen doth begin to increase! peradventure, some pellet
+may attain unto us even here. Lo! I will ensconce me behind the cairn, as
+behind a strong wall of defence.”
+
+“He’s but a coward body after a’,” said Cuddie, who was himself by no
+means deficient in that sort of courage which consists in insensibility
+to danger; “he’s but a daidling coward body. He’ll never fill
+Rumbleberry’s bonnet.--Odd! Rumbleberry fought and flyted like a fleeing
+dragon. It was a great pity, puir man, he couldna cheat the woodie. But
+they say he gaed singing and rejoicing till’t, just as I wad gang to a
+bicker o’ brose, supposing me hungry, as I stand a gude chance to be.--
+Eh, sirs! yon’s an awfu’ sight, and yet ane canna keep their een aff frae
+it!”
+
+Accordingly, strong curiosity on the part of Morton and Cuddie, together
+with the heated enthusiasm of old Mause, detained them on the spot from
+which they could best hear and see the issue of the action, leaving to
+Kettledrummle to occupy alone his place of security. The vicissitudes of
+combat, which we have already described, were witnessed by our spectators
+from the top of the eminence, but without their being able positively to
+determine to what they tended. That the presbyterians defended themselves
+stoutly was evident from the heavy smoke, which, illumined by frequent
+flashes of fire, now eddied along the valley, and hid the contending
+parties in its sulphureous shade. On the other hand, the continued firing
+from the nearer side of the morass indicated that the enemy persevered in
+their attack, that the affair was fiercely disputed, and that every thing
+was to be apprehended from a continued contest in which undisciplined
+rustics had to repel the assaults of regular troops, so completely
+officered and armed.
+
+At length horses, whose caparisons showed that they belonged to the
+Life-Guards, began to fly masterless out of the confusion. Dismounted
+soldiers next appeared, forsaking the conflict, and straggling over the
+side of the hill, in order to escape from the scene of action. As the
+numbers of these fugitives increased, the fate of the day seemed no
+longer doubtful. A large body was then seen emerging from the smoke,
+forming irregularly on the hill-side, and with difficulty kept stationary
+by their officers, until Evandale’s corps also appeared in full retreat.
+The result of the conflict was then apparent, and the joy of the
+prisoners was corresponding to their approaching deliverance.
+
+“They hae dune the job for anes,” said Cuddie, “an they ne’er do’t
+again.”
+
+“They flee!--they flee!” exclaimed Mause, in ecstasy. “O, the truculent
+tyrants! they are riding now as they never rode before. O, the false
+Egyptians--the proud Assyrians--the Philistines--the Moabites--the
+Edomites--the Ishmaelites!--The Lord has brought sharp swords upon them,
+to make them food for the fowls of heaven and the beasts of the field.
+See how the clouds roll, and the fire flashes ahint them, and goes forth
+before the chosen of the Covenant, e’en like the pillar o’ cloud and the
+pillar o’ flame that led the people of Israel out o’ the land of Egypt!
+This is indeed a day of deliverance to the righteous, a day of pouring
+out of wrath to the persecutors and the ungodly!”
+
+“Lord save us, mither,” said Cuddie, “haud the clavering tongue o’ ye,
+and lie down ahint the cairn, like Kettledrummle, honest man! The
+whigamore bullets ken unco little discretion, and will just as sune knock
+out the harns o’ a psalm-singing auld wife as a swearing dragoon.”
+
+“Fear naething for me, Cuddie,” said the old dame, transported to ecstasy
+by the success of her party; “fear naething for me! I will stand, like
+Deborah, on the tap o’ the cairn, and tak up my sang o’ reproach against
+these men of Harosheth of the Gentiles, whose horse-hoofs are broken by
+their prancing.”
+
+The enthusiastic old woman would, in fact, have accomplished her purpose,
+of mounting on the cairn, and becoming, as she said, a sign and a banner
+to the people, had not Cuddie, with more filial tenderness than respect,
+detained her by such force as his shackled arms would permit him to
+exert.
+
+“Eh, sirs!” he said, having accomplished this task, “look out yonder,
+Milnwood; saw ye ever mortal fight like the deevil Claver’se?--Yonder
+he’s been thrice doun amang them, and thrice cam free aff.--But I think
+we’ll soon be free oursells, Milnwood. Inglis and his troopers look ower
+their shouthers very aften, as if they liked the road ahint them better
+than the road afore.”
+
+Cuddie was not mistaken; for, when the main tide of fugitives passed at a
+little distance from the spot where they were stationed, the corporal and
+his party fired their carabines at random upon the advancing insurgents,
+and, abandoning all charge of their prisoners, joined the retreat of
+their comrades. Morton and the old woman, whose hands were at liberty,
+lost no time in undoing the bonds of Cuddie and of the clergyman, both of
+whom had been secured by a cord tied round their arms above the elbows.
+By the time this was accomplished, the rear-guard of the dragoons, which
+still preserved some order, passed beneath the hillock or rising ground
+which was surmounted by the cairn already repeatedly mentioned. They
+exhibited all the hurry and confusion incident to a forced retreat, but
+still continued in a body. Claverhouse led the van, his naked sword
+deeply dyed with blood, as were his face and clothes. His horse was all
+covered with gore, and now reeled with weakness. Lord Evandale, in not
+much better plight, brought up the rear, still exhorting the soldiers to
+keep together and fear nothing. Several of the men were wounded, and one
+or two dropped from their horses as they surmounted the hill.
+
+Mause’s zeal broke forth once more at this spectacle, while she stood on
+the heath with her head uncovered, and her grey hairs streaming in the
+wind, no bad representation of a superannuated bacchante, or Thessalian
+witch in the agonies of incantation. She soon discovered Claverhouse at
+the head of the fugitive party, and exclaimed with bitter irony, “Tarry,
+tarry, ye wha were aye sae blithe to be at the meetings of the saints,
+and wad ride every muir in Scotland to find a conventicle! Wilt thou not
+tarry, now thou hast found ane? Wilt thou not stay for one word mair?
+Wilt thou na bide the afternoon preaching?--Wae betide ye!” she said,
+suddenly changing her tone, “and cut the houghs of the creature whase
+fleetness ye trust in!--Sheugh--sheugh!--awa wi’ye, that hae spilled sae
+muckle blude, and now wad save your ain--awa wi’ye for a railing
+Rabshakeh, a cursing Shimei, a bloodthirsty Doeg!--The swords drawn now
+that winna be lang o’ o’ertaking ye, ride as fast as ye will.”
+
+Claverhouse, it may be easily supposed, was too busy to attend to her
+reproaches, but hastened over the hill, anxious to get the remnant of his
+men out of gun-shot, in hopes of again collecting the fugitives round his
+standard. But as the rear of his followers rode over the ridge, a shot
+struck Lord Evandale’s horse, which instantly sunk down dead beneath him.
+Two of the whig horsemen, who were the foremost in the pursuit, hastened
+up with the purpose of killing him, for hitherto there had been no
+quarter given. Morton, on the other hand, rushed forward to save his
+life, if possible, in order at once to indulge his natural generosity,
+and to requite the obligation which Lord Evandale had conferred on him
+that morning, and under which circumstances had made him wince so
+acutely. Just as he had assisted Evandale, who was much wounded, to
+extricate himself from his dying horse, and to gain his feet, the two
+horsemen came up, and one of them exclaiming, “Have at the red-coated
+tyrant!” made a blow at the young nobleman, which Morton parried with
+difficulty, exclaiming to the rider, who was no other than Burley
+himself, “Give quarter to this gentleman, for my sake--for the sake,” he
+added, observing that Burley did not immediately recognise him, “of Henry
+Morton, who so lately sheltered you.”
+
+“Henry Morton?” replied Burley, wiping his bloody brow with his bloodier
+hand; “did I not say that the son of Silas Morton would come forth out of
+the land of bondage, nor be long an indweller in the tents of Ham? Thou
+art a brand snatched out of the burning--But for this booted apostle of
+prelacy, he shall die the death!--We must smite them hip and thigh, even
+from the rising to the going down of the sun. It is our commission to
+slay them like Amalek, and utterly destroy all they have, and spare
+neither man nor woman, infant nor suckling; therefore, hinder me not,” he
+continued, endeavouring again to cut down Lord Evandale, “for this work
+must not be wrought negligently.”
+
+“You must not, and you shall not, slay him, more especially while
+incapable of defence,” said Morton, planting himself before Lord Evandale
+so as to intercept any blow that should be aimed at him; “I owed my life
+to him this morning--my life, which was endangered solely by my having
+sheltered you; and to shed his blood when he can offer no effectual
+resistance, were not only a cruelty abhorrent to God and man, but
+detestable ingratitude both to him and to me.”
+
+Burley paused.--“Thou art yet,” he said, “in the court of the Gentiles,
+and I compassionate thy human blindness and frailty. Strong meat is not
+fit for babes, nor the mighty and grinding dispensation under which I
+draw my sword, for those whose hearts are yet dwelling in huts of clay,
+whose footsteps are tangled in the mesh of mortal sympathies, and who
+clothe themselves in the righteousness that is as filthy rags. But to
+gain a soul to the truth is better than to send one to Tophet; therefore
+I give quarter to this youth, providing the grant is confirmed by the
+general council of God’s army, whom he hath this day blessed with so
+signal a deliverance.--Thou art unarmed--Abide my return here. I must yet
+pursue these sinners, the Amalekites, and destroy them till they be
+utterly consumed from the face of the land, even from Havilah unto Shur.”
+
+So saying, he set spurs to his horse, and continued to pursue the chase.
+
+“Cuddie,” said Morton, “for God’s sake catch a horse as quickly as you
+can. I will not trust Lord Evandale’s life with these obdurate men.--You
+are wounded, my lord.--Are you able to continue your retreat?” he
+continued, addressing himself to his prisoner, who, half-stunned by the
+fall, was but beginning to recover himself.
+
+“I think so,” replied Lord Evandale. “But is it possible?--Do I owe my
+life to Mr Morton?”
+
+“My interference would have been the same from common humanity,” replied
+Morton; “to your lordship it was a sacred debt of gratitude.”
+
+Cuddie at this instant returned with a horse.
+
+“God-sake, munt--munt, and ride like a fleeing hawk, my lord,” said the
+good-natured fellow, “for ne’er be in me, if they arena killing every ane
+o’ the wounded and prisoners!”
+
+Lord Evandale mounted the horse, while Cuddie officiously held the
+stirrup.
+
+“Stand off, good fellow, thy courtesy may cost thy life.--Mr Morton,” he
+continued, addressing Henry, “this makes us more than even--rely on it, I
+will never forget your generosity--Farewell.”
+
+He turned his horse, and rode swiftly away in the direction which seemed
+least exposed to pursuit.
+
+Lord Evandale had just rode off, when several of the insurgents, who were
+in the front of the pursuit, came up, denouncing vengeance on Henry
+Morton and Cuddie for having aided the escape of a Philistine, as they
+called the young nobleman.
+
+“What wad ye hae had us to do?” cried Cuddie. “Had we aught to stop a man
+wi’ that had twa pistols and a sword? Sudna ye hae come faster up
+yoursells, instead of flyting at huz?”
+
+This excuse would hardly have passed current; but Kettledrummle, who now
+awoke from his trance of terror, and was known to, and reverenced by,
+most of the wanderers, together with Mause, who possessed their
+appropriate language as well as the preacher himself, proved active and
+effectual intercessors.
+
+“Touch them not, harm them not,” exclaimed Kettledrummle, in his very
+best double-bass tones; “this is the son of the famous Silas Morton, by
+whom the Lord wrought great things in this land at the breaking forth of
+the reformation from prelacy, when there was a plentiful pouring forth of
+the Word and a renewing of the Covenant; a hero and champion of those
+blessed days, when there was power and efficacy, and convincing and
+converting of sinners, and heart-exercises, and fellowships of saints,
+and a plentiful flowing forth of the spices of the garden of Eden.”
+
+“And this is my son Cuddie,” exclaimed Mause, in her turn, “the son of
+his father, Judden Headrigg, wha was a douce honest man, and of me, Mause
+Middlemas, an unworthy professor and follower of the pure gospel, and ane
+o’ your ain folk. Is it not written, ‘Cut ye not off the tribe of the
+families of the Kohathites from among the Levites?’ Numbers, fourth and
+aughteenth--O! sirs! dinna be standing here prattling wi’ honest folk,
+when ye suld be following forth your victory with which Providence has
+blessed ye.”
+
+This party having passed on, they were immediately beset by another, to
+whom it was necessary to give the same explanation. Kettledrummle, whose
+fear was much dissipated since the firing had ceased, again took upon him
+to be intercessor, and grown bold, as he felt his good word necessary for
+the protection of his late fellow-captives, he laid claim to no small
+share of the merit of the victory, appealing to Morton and Cuddie,
+whether the tide of battle had not turned while he prayed on the Mount of
+Jehovah-Nissi, like Moses, that Israel might prevail over Amalek; but
+granting them, at the same time, the credit of holding up his hands when
+they waxed heavy, as those of the prophet were supported by Aaron and
+Hur. It seems probable that Kettledrummle allotted this part in the
+success to his companions in adversity, lest they should be tempted to
+disclose his carnal self-seeking and falling away, in regarding too
+closely his own personal safety. These strong testimonies in favour of
+the liberated captives quickly flew abroad, with many exaggerations,
+among the victorious army. The reports on the subject were various; but
+it was universally agreed, that young Morton of Milnwood, the son of the
+stout soldier of the Covenant, Silas Morton, together with the precious
+Gabriel Kettledrummle, and a singular devout Christian woman, whom many
+thought as good as himself at extracting a doctrine or an use, whether of
+terror or consolation, had arrived to support the good old cause, with a
+reinforcement of a hundred well-armed men from the Middle Ward.
+
+     [Note: Skirmish at Drumclog. This affair, the only one in which
+     Claverhouse was defeated, or the insurgent Cameronians successful,
+     was fought pretty much in the manner mentioned in the text. The
+     Royalists lost about thirty or forty men. The commander of the
+     Presbyterian, or rather Convenanting party, was Mr Robert Hamilton,
+     of the honourable House of Preston, brother of Sir William Hamilton,
+     to whose title and estate he afterwards succeeded; but, according to
+     his biographer, Howie of Lochgoin, he never took possession of
+     either, as he could not do so without acknowledging the right of
+     King William (an uncovenanted monarch) to the crown. Hamilton had
+     been bred by Bishop Burnet, while the latter lived at Glasgow; his
+     brother, Sir Thomas, having married a sister of that historian. “He
+     was then,” says the Bishop, “a lively, hopeful young man; but
+     getting into that company, and into their notions, he became a
+     crack-brained enthusiast.”
+
+     Several well-meaning persons have been much scandalized at the
+     manner in which the victors are said to have conducted themselves
+     towards the prisoners at Drumclog. But the principle of these poor
+     fanatics, (I mean the high-flying, or Cameronian party,) was to
+     obtain not merely toleration for their church, but the same
+     supremacy which Presbytery had acquired in Scotland after the treaty
+     of Rippon, betwixt Charles I. and his Scottish subjects, in 1640.
+
+     The fact is, that they conceived themselves a chosen people, sent
+     forth to extirpate the heathen, like the Jews of old, and under a
+     similar charge to show no quarter.
+
+     The historian of the Insurrection of Bothwell makes the following
+     explicit avowal of the principles on which their General acted:--
+
+     “Mr Hamilton discovered a great deal of bravery and valour, both in
+     the conflict with, and pursuit of, the enemy; but when he and some
+     other were pursuing the enemy, others flew too greedily upon the
+     spoil, small as it was, instead of pursuing the victory; and some,
+     without Mr Hamilton’s knowledge, and directly contrary to his
+     express command, gave five of those bloody enemies quarter, and then
+     let them go; this greatly grieved Mr Hamilton when he saw some of
+     Babel’s brats spared, after that the Lord had delivered them into
+     their hands, that they might dash them against the stones. Psalm
+     cxxxvii., 9. In his own account of this, he reckons the sparing of
+     these enemies, and letting them go, to be among their first
+     steppings aside, for which he feared that the Lord would not honour
+     them to do much more for him; and says, that he was neither for
+     taking favours from, nor giving favours to, the Lord’s enemies.” See
+     A true and impartial Account of the persecuted Presbyterians in
+     Scotland, their being in arms, and defeat at Bothwell Brigg, in
+     1679, by William Wilson, late Schoolmaster in the parish of Douglas.
+     The reader who would authenticate the quotation, must not consult
+     any other edition than that of 1697; for somehow or other the
+     publisher of the last edition has omitted this remarkable part of
+     the narrative.
+
+     Sir Robert Hamilton himself felt neither remorse nor shame for
+     having put to death one of the prisoners after the battle with his
+     own hand, which appears to have been a charge against him, by some
+     whose fanaticism was less exalted than his own.
+
+     “As for that accusation they bring against me of killing that poor
+     man (as they call him) at Drumclog, I may easily guess that my
+     accusers can be no other but some of the house of Saul or Shimei, or
+     some such risen again to espouse that poor gentleman (Saul) his
+     quarrel against honest Samuel, for his offering to kill that poor
+     man Agag, after the king’s giving him quarter. But I, being to
+     command that day, gave out the word that no quarter should be given;
+     and returning from pursuing Claverhouse, one or two of these fellows
+     were standing in the midst of a company of our friends, and some
+     were debating for quarter, others against it. None could blame me to
+     decide the controversy, and I bless the Lord for it to this day.
+     There were five more that without my knowledge got quarter, who were
+     brought to me after we were a mile from the place as having got
+     quarter, which I reckoned among the first steppings aside; and
+     seeing that spirit amongst us at that time, I then told it to some
+     that were with me, (to my best remembrance, it was honest old John
+     Nisbet,) that I feared the Lord would not honour us to do much more
+     for him. I shall only say this,--I desire to bless his holy name,
+     that since ever he helped me to set my face to his work, I never
+     had, nor would take, a favour from enemies, either on right or left
+     hand, and desired to give as few.”
+
+     The preceding passage is extracted from a long vindication of his
+     own conduct, sent by Sir Robert Hamilton, 7th December, 1685,
+     addressed to the anti-Popish, anti-Prelatic, anti-Erastian,
+     anti-sectarian true Presbyterian remnant of the Church of Scotland;
+     and the substance is to be found in the work or collection, called,
+     “Faithful Contendings Displayed, collected and transcribed by John
+     Howie.”
+
+     As the skirmish of Drumclog has been of late the subject of some
+     enquiry, the reader may be curious to see Claverhouse’s own account
+     of the affair, in a letter to the Earl of Linlithgow, written
+     immediately after the action. This gazette, as it may be called,
+     occurs in the volume called Dundee’s Letters, printed by Mr Smythe
+     of Methven, as a contribution to the Bannatyne Club. The original is
+     in the library of the Duke of Buckingham. Claverhouse, it may be
+     observed, spells like a chambermaid.
+
+     “FOR THE EARLE OF LINLITHGOW. [COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF OF KING CHARLES
+     II.’s FORCES IN SCOTLAND.]
+
+     “Glaskow, Jun. the 1, 1679.
+
+     “My Lord,--Upon Saturday’s night, when my Lord Rosse came into this
+     place, I marched out, and because of the insolency that had been
+     done tue nights before at Ruglen, I went thither and inquyred for
+     the names. So soon as I got them, I sent our partys to sease on
+     them, and found not only three of those rogues, but also ane
+     intercomend minister called King. We had them at Strevan about six
+     in the morning yesterday, and resolving to convey them to this, I
+     thought that we might make a little tour to see if we could fall
+     upon a conventicle; which we did, little to our advantage; for when
+     we came in sight of them, we found them drawn up in batell, upon a
+     most adventageous ground, to which there was no coming but through
+     mosses and lakes. They wer not preaching, and had got away all there
+     women and shildring. They consisted of four battaillons of foot, and
+     all well armed with fusils and pitchforks, and three squadrons of
+     horse. We sent both partys to skirmish, they of foot and we of
+     dragoons; they run for it, and sent down a battaillon of foot
+     against them; we sent threescore of dragoons, who made them run
+     again shamfully; but in end they percaiving that we had the better
+     of them in skirmish, they resolved a generall engadgment, and
+     imediately advanced with there foot, the horse folowing; they came
+     throght the lotche; the greatest body of all made up against my
+     troupe; we keeped our fyre till they wer within ten pace of us: they
+     recaived our fyr, and advanced to shok; the first they gave us
+     broght down the Coronet Mr Crafford and Captain Bleith, besides that
+     with a pitchfork they made such an openeing in my rone horse’s
+     belly, that his guts hung out half an elle, and yet he caryed me af
+     an myl; which so discoraged our men, that they sustained not the
+     shok, but fell into disorder. There horse took the occasion of this,
+     and purseued us so hotly that we had no tym to rayly. I saved the
+     standarts, but lost on the place about aight or ten men, besides
+     wounded; but he dragoons lost many mor. They ar not com esily af on
+     the other side, for I sawe severall of them fall befor we cam to the
+     shok. I mad the best retraite the confusion of our people would
+     suffer, and I am now laying with my Lord Rosse. The toun of Streven
+     drew up as we was making our retrait, and thoght of a pass to cut us
+     off, but we took courage and fell to them, made them run, leaving a
+     dousain on the place. What these rogues will dou yet I know not, but
+     the contry was flocking to them from all hands. This may be counted
+     the begining of the rebellion, in my opinion.
+
+     “I am, my lord,
+
+     “Your lordship’s most humble servant,
+
+     “J. Grahame.
+
+     “My lord, I am so wearied, and so sleapy, that I have wryton this
+     very confusedly.”]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+               When pulpit, drum ecclesiastic,
+               Was beat with fist instead of a stick.
+                                                  Hudibras.
+
+In the meantime, the insurgent cavalry returned from the pursuit, jaded
+and worn out with their unwonted efforts, and the infantry assembled on
+the ground which they had won, fatigued with toil and hunger. Their
+success, however, was a cordial to every bosom, and seemed even to serve
+in the stead of food and refreshment. It was, indeed, much more brilliant
+than they durst have ventured to anticipate; for, with no great loss on
+their part, they had totally routed a regiment of picked men, commanded
+by the first officer in Scotland, and one whose very name had long been a
+terror to them. Their success seemed even to have upon their spirits the
+effect of a sudden and violent surprise, so much had their taking up arms
+been a measure of desperation rather than of hope. Their meeting was also
+casual, and they had hastily arranged themselves under such commanders as
+were remarkable for zeal and courage, without much respect to any other
+qualities. It followed, from this state of disorganization, that the
+whole army appeared at once to resolve itself into a general committee
+for considering what steps were to be taken in consequence of their
+success, and no opinion could be started so wild that it had not some
+favourers and advocates. Some proposed they should march to Glasgow, some
+to Hamilton, some to Edinburgh, some to London. Some were for sending a
+deputation of their number to London to convert Charles II. to a sense of
+the error of his ways; and others, less charitable, proposed either to
+call a new successor to the crown, or to declare Scotland a free
+republic. A free parliament of the nation, and a free assembly of the
+Kirk, were the objects of the more sensible and moderate of the party. In
+the meanwhile, a clamour arose among the soldiers for bread and other
+necessaries, and while all complained of hardship and hunger, none took
+the necessary measures to procure supplies. In short, the camp of the
+Covenanters, even in the very moment of success, seemed about to dissolve
+like a rope of sand, from want of the original principles of combination
+and union.
+
+Burley, who had now returned from the pursuit, found his followers in
+this distracted state. With the ready talent of one accustomed to
+encounter exigences, he proposed, that one hundred of the freshest men
+should be drawn out for duty--that a small number of those who had
+hitherto acted as leaders, should constitute a committee of direction
+until officers should be regularly chosen--and that, to crown the
+victory, Gabriel Kettledrummle should be called upon to improve the
+providential success which they had obtained, by a word in season
+addressed to the army. He reckoned very much, and not without reason, on
+this last expedient, as a means of engaging the attention of the bulk of
+the insurgents, while he himself, and two or three of their leaders, held
+a private council of war, undisturbed by the discordant opinions, or
+senseless clamour, of the general body.
+
+Kettledrummle more than answered the expectations of Burley. Two mortal
+hours did he preach at a breathing; and certainly no lungs, or doctrine,
+excepting his own, could have kept up, for so long a time, the attention
+of men in such precarious circumstances. But he possessed in perfection a
+sort of rude and familiar eloquence peculiar to the preachers of that
+period, which, though it would have been fastidiously rejected by an
+audience which possessed any portion of taste, was a cake of the right
+leaven for the palates of those whom he now addressed. His text was from
+the forty-ninth chapter of Isaiah, “Even the captives of the mighty shall
+be taken away, and the prey of the terrible shall be delivered: for I
+will contend with him that contendeth with thee, and I will save thy
+children.
+
+“And I will feed them that oppress thee with their own flesh; and they
+shall be drunken with their own blood, as with sweet wine: and all flesh
+shall know that I the Lord am thy Saviour and thy Redeemer, the Mighty
+One of Jacob.”
+
+The discourse which he pronounced upon this subject was divided into
+fifteen heads, each of which was garnished with seven uses of
+application, two of consolation, two of terror, two declaring the causes
+of backsliding and of wrath, and one announcing the promised and expected
+deliverance. The first part of his text he applied to his own deliverance
+and that of his companions; and took occasion to speak a few words in
+praise of young Milnwood, of whom, as of a champion of the Covenant, he
+augured great things. The second part he applied to the punishments which
+were about to fall upon the persecuting government. At times he
+was familiar and colloquial; now he was loud, energetic, and
+boisterous;--some parts of his discourse might be called sublime, and
+others sunk below burlesque. Occasionally he vindicated with great
+animation the right of every freeman to worship God according to his own
+conscience; and presently he charged the guilt and misery of the people
+on the awful negligence of their rulers, who had not only failed to
+establish presbytery as the national religion, but had tolerated
+sectaries of various descriptions, Papists, Prelatists, Erastians,
+assuming the name of Presbyterians, Independents, Socinians, and
+Quakers: all of whom Kettledrummle proposed, by one sweeping act, to
+expel from the land, and thus re-edify in its integrity the beauty of
+the sanctuary. He next handled very pithily the doctrine of defensive
+arms and of resistance to Charles II., observing, that, instead of a
+nursing father to the Kirk, that monarch had been a nursing father to
+none but his own bastards. He went at some length through the life and
+conversation of that joyous prince, few parts of which, it must be
+owned, were qualified to stand the rough handling of so uncourtly an
+orator, who conferred on him the hard names of Jeroboam, Omri, Ahab,
+Shallum, Pekah, and every other evil monarch recorded in the Chronicles,
+and concluded with a round application of the Scripture, “Tophet is
+ordained of old; yea, for the King it is provided: he hath made it deep
+and large; the pile thereof is fire and much wood: the breath of the
+Lord, like a stream of brimstone, doth kindle it.”
+
+Kettledrummle had no sooner ended his sermon, and descended from the huge
+rock which had served him for a pulpit, than his post was occupied by a
+pastor of a very different description. The reverend Gabriel was advanced
+in years, somewhat corpulent, with a loud voice, a square face, and a set
+of stupid and unanimated features, in which the body seemed more to
+predominate over the spirit than was seemly in a sound divine. The youth
+who succeeded him in exhorting this extraordinary convocation, Ephraim
+Macbriar by name, was hardly twenty years old; yet his thin features
+already indicated, that a constitution, naturally hectic, was worn out by
+vigils, by fasts, by the rigour of imprisonment, and the fatigues
+incident to a fugitive life. Young as he was, he had been twice
+imprisoned for several months, and suffered many severities, which gave
+him great influence with those of his own sect. He threw his faded eyes
+over the multitude and over the scene of battle; and a light of triumph
+arose in his glance, his pale yet striking features were coloured with a
+transient and hectic blush of joy. He folded his hands, raised his face
+to heaven, and seemed lost in mental prayer and thanksgiving ere he
+addressed the people. When he spoke, his faint and broken voice seemed at
+first inadequate to express his conceptions. But the deep silence of the
+assembly, the eagerness with which the ear gathered every word, as the
+famished Israelites collected the heavenly manna, had a corresponding
+effect upon the preacher himself. His words became more distinct, his
+manner more earnest and energetic; it seemed as if religious zeal was
+triumphing over bodily weakness and infirmity. His natural eloquence was
+not altogether untainted with the coarseness of his sect; and yet, by the
+influence of a good natural taste, it was freed from the grosser and more
+ludicrous errors of his contemporaries; and the language of Scripture,
+which, in their mouths, was sometimes degraded by misapplication, gave,
+in Macbriar’s exhortation, a rich and solemn effect, like that which is
+produced by the beams of the sun streaming through the storied
+representation of saints and martyrs on the Gothic window of some ancient
+cathedral.
+
+He painted the desolation of the church, during the late period of her
+distresses, in the most affecting colours. He described her, like Hagar
+watching the waning life of her infant amid the fountainless desert; like
+Judah, under her palm-tree, mourning for the devastation of her temple;
+like Rachel, weeping for her children and refusing comfort. But he
+chiefly rose into rough sublimity when addressing the men yet reeking
+from battle. He called on them to remember the great things which God had
+done for them, and to persevere in the career which their victory had
+opened.
+
+“Your garments are dyed--but not with the juice of the wine-press; your
+swords are filled with blood,” he exclaimed, “but not with the blood of
+goats or lambs; the dust of the desert on which ye stand is made fat with
+gore, but not with the blood of bullocks, for the Lord hath a sacrifice
+in Bozrah, and a great slaughter in the land of Idumea. These were not
+the firstlings of the flock, the small cattle of burnt-offerings, whose
+bodies lie like dung on the ploughed field of the husbandman; this is not
+the savour of myrrh, of frankincense, or of sweet herbs, that is steaming
+in your nostrils; but these bloody trunks are the carcasses of those who
+held the bow and the lance, who were cruel and would show no mercy, whose
+voice roared like the sea, who rode upon horses, every man in array as if
+to battle--they are the carcasses even of the mighty men of war that came
+against Jacob in the day of his deliverance, and the smoke is that of the
+devouring fires that have consumed them. And those wild hills that
+surround you are not a sanctuary planked with cedar and plated with
+silver; nor are ye ministering priests at the altar, with censers and
+with torches; but ye hold in your hands the sword, and the bow, and the
+weapons of death. And yet verily, I say unto you, that not when the
+ancient Temple was in its first glory was there offered sacrifice more
+acceptable than that which you have this day presented, giving to the
+slaughter the tyrant and the oppressor, with the rocks for your altars,
+and the sky for your vaulted sanctuary, and your own good swords for the
+instruments of sacrifice. Leave not, therefore, the plough in the
+furrow--turn not back from the path in which you have entered like the
+famous worthies of old, whom God raised up for the glorifying of his
+name and the deliverance of his afflicted people--halt not in the race
+you are running, lest the latter end should be worse than the beginning.
+Wherefore, set up a standard in the land; blow a trumpet upon the
+mountains; let not the shepherd tarry by his sheepfold, or the seedsman
+continue in the ploughed field; but make the watch strong, sharpen the
+arrows, burnish the shields, name ye the captains of thousands, and
+captains of hundreds, of fifties, and of tens; call the footmen like the
+rushing of winds, and cause the horsemen to come up like the sound of
+many waters; for the passages of the destroyers are stopped, their rods
+are burned, and the face of their men of battle hath been turned to
+flight. Heaven has been with you, and has broken the bow of the mighty;
+then let every man’s heart be as the heart of the valiant Maccabeus,
+every man’s hand as the hand of the mighty Sampson, every man’s sword as
+that of Gideon, which turned not back from the slaughter; for the banner
+of Reformation is spread abroad on the mountains in its first
+loveliness, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.
+
+“Well is he this day that shall barter his house for a helmet, and sell
+his garment for a sword, and cast in his lot with the children of the
+Covenant, even to the fulfilling of the promise; and woe, woe unto him
+who, for carnal ends and self-seeking, shall withhold himself from the
+great work, for the curse shall abide with him, even the bitter curse of
+Meroz, because he came not to the help of the Lord against the mighty.
+Up, then, and be doing; the blood of martyrs, reeking upon scaffolds, is
+crying for vengeance; the bones of saints, which lie whitening in the
+highways, are pleading for retribution; the groans of innocent captives
+from desolate isles of the sea, and from the dungeons of the tyrants’
+high places, cry for deliverance; the prayers of persecuted Christians,
+sheltering themselves in dens and deserts from the sword of their
+persecutors, famished with hunger, starving with cold, lacking fire,
+food, shelter, and clothing, because they serve God rather than man--all
+are with you, pleading, watching, knocking, storming the gates of heaven
+in your behalf. Heaven itself shall fight for you, as the stars in their
+courses fought against Sisera. Then whoso will deserve immortal fame in
+this world, and eternal happiness in that which is to come, let them
+enter into God’s service, and take arles at the hand of his servant,--a
+blessing, namely, upon him and his household, and his children, to the
+ninth generation, even the blessing of the promise, for ever and ever!
+Amen.”
+
+The eloquence of the preacher was rewarded by the deep hum of stern
+approbation which resounded through the armed assemblage at the
+conclusion of an exhortation, so well suited to that which they had done,
+and that which remained for them to do. The wounded forgot their pain,
+the faint and hungry their fatigues and privations, as they listened to
+doctrines which elevated them alike above the wants and calamities of the
+world, and identified their cause with that of the Deity. Many crowded
+around the preacher, as he descended from the eminence on which he stood,
+and, clasping him with hands on which the gore was not yet hardened,
+pledged their sacred vow that they would play the part of Heaven’s true
+soldiers. Exhausted by his own enthusiasm, and by the animated fervour
+which he had exerted in his discourse, the preacher could only reply, in
+broken accents,--“God bless you, my brethren--it is his cause.--Stand
+strongly up and play the men--the worst that can befall us is but a brief
+and bloody passage to heaven.”
+
+Balfour, and the other leaders, had not lost the time which was employed
+in these spiritual exercises. Watch-fires were lighted, sentinels were
+posted, and arrangements were made to refresh the army with such
+provisions as had been hastily collected from the nearest farm-houses and
+villages. The present necessity thus provided for, they turned their
+thoughts to the future. They had dispatched parties to spread the news of
+their victory, and to obtain, either by force or favour, supplies of what
+they stood most in need of. In this they had succeeded beyond their
+hopes, having at one village seized a small magazine of provisions,
+forage, and ammunition, which had been provided for the royal forces.
+This success not only gave them relief at the time, but such hopes for
+the future, that whereas formerly some of their number had begun to
+slacken in their zeal, they now unanimously resolved to abide together in
+arms, and commit themselves and their cause to the event of war.
+
+And whatever may be thought of the extravagance or narrow-minded bigotry
+of many of their tenets, it is impossible to deny the praise of devoted
+courage to a few hundred peasants, who, without leaders, without money,
+without magazines, without any fixed plan of action, and almost without
+arms, borne out only by their innate zeal, and a detestation of the
+oppression of their rulers, ventured to declare open war against an
+established government, supported by a regular army and the whole force
+of three kingdoms.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+               Why, then, say an old man can do somewhat.
+                                             Henry IV. Part II.
+
+We must now return to the tower of Tillietudlem, which the march of the
+Life-Guards, on the morning of this eventful day, had left to silence and
+anxiety. The assurances of Lord Evandale had not succeeded in quelling
+the apprehensions of Edith. She knew him generous, and faithful to his
+word; but it seemed too plain that he suspected the object of her
+intercession to be a successful rival; and was it not expecting from him
+an effort above human nature, to suppose that he was to watch over
+Morton’s safety, and rescue him from all the dangers to which his state
+of imprisonment, and the suspicions which he had incurred, must
+repeatedly expose him? She therefore resigned herself to the most
+heart-rending apprehensions, without admitting, and indeed almost without
+listening to, the multifarious grounds of consolation which Jenny
+Dennison brought forward, one after another, like a skilful general who
+charges with the several divisions of his troops in regular succession.
+
+First, Jenny was morally positive that young Milnwood would come to no
+harm--then, if he did, there was consolation in the reflection, that Lord
+Evandale was the better and more appropriate match of the two--then,
+there was every chance of a battle, in which the said Lord Evandale might
+be killed, and there wad be nae mair fash about that job--then, if the
+whigs gat the better, Milnwood and Cuddie might come to the Castle, and
+carry off the beloved of their hearts by the strong hand.
+
+“For I forgot to tell ye, madam,” continued the damsel, putting her
+handkerchief to her eyes, “that puir Cuddie’s in the hands of the
+Philistines as weel as young Milnwood, and he was brought here a prisoner
+this morning, and I was fain to speak Tam Halliday fair, and fleech him
+to let me near the puir creature; but Cuddie wasna sae thankfu’ as he
+needed till hae been neither,” she added, and at the same time changed
+her tone, and briskly withdrew the handkerchief from her face; “so I will
+ne’er waste my een wi’ greeting about the matter. There wad be aye enow
+o’ young men left, if they were to hang the tae half o’ them.”
+
+The other inhabitants of the Castle were also in a state of
+dissatisfaction and anxiety. Lady Margaret thought that Colonel Grahame,
+in commanding an execution at the door of her house, and refusing to
+grant a reprieve at her request, had fallen short of the deference due to
+her rank, and had even encroached on her seignorial rights.
+
+“The Colonel,” she said, “ought to have remembered, brother, that the
+barony of Tillietudlem has the baronial privilege of pit and gallows; and
+therefore, if the lad was to be executed on my estate, (which I consider
+as an unhandsome thing, seeing it is in the possession of females, to
+whom such tragedies cannot be acceptable,) he ought, at common law, to
+have been delivered up to my bailie, and justified at his sight.”
+
+“Martial law, sister,” answered Major Bellenden, “supersedes every other.
+But I must own I think Colonel Grahame rather deficient in attention to
+you; and I am not over and above pre-eminently flattered by his granting
+to young Evandale (I suppose because he is a lord, and has interest with
+the privy-council) a request which he refused to so old a servant of the
+king as I am. But so long as the poor young fellow’s life is saved, I can
+comfort myself with the fag-end of a ditty as old as myself.” And
+therewithal, he hummed a stanza:
+
+‘And what though winter will pinch severe Through locks of grey and a
+cloak that’s old? Yet keep up thy heart, bold cavalier, For a cup of sack
+shall fence the cold.’
+
+“I must be your guest here to-day, sister. I wish to hear the issue of
+this gathering on Loudon-hill, though I cannot conceive their standing a
+body of horse appointed like our guests this morning.--Woe’s me, the time
+has been that I would have liked ill to have sate in biggit wa’s waiting
+for the news of a skirmish to be fought within ten miles of me! But, as
+the old song goes,
+
+               ‘For time will rust the brightest blade,
+               And years will break the strongest bow;
+               Was ever wight so starkly made,
+               But time and years would overthrow?’”
+
+“We are well pleased you will stay, brother,” said Lady Margaret; “I will
+take my old privilege to look after my household, whom this collation has
+thrown into some disorder, although it is uncivil to leave you alone.”
+
+“O, I hate ceremony as I hate a stumbling horse,” replied the Major.
+“Besides, your person would be with me, and your mind with the cold meat
+and reversionary pasties.--Where is Edith?”
+
+“Gone to her room a little evil-disposed, I am informed, and laid down in
+her bed for a gliff,” said her grandmother; “as soon as she wakes, she
+shall take some drops.”
+
+“Pooh! pooh! she’s only sick of the soldiers,” answered Major Bellenden.
+“She’s not accustomed to see one acquaintance led out to be shot, and
+another marching off to actual service, with some chance of not finding
+his way back again. She would soon be used to it, if the civil war were
+to break out again.”
+
+“God forbid, brother!” said Lady Margaret.
+
+“Ay, Heaven forbid, as you say--and, in the meantime, I’ll take a hit at
+trick-track with Harrison.”
+
+“He has ridden out, sir,” said Gudyill, “to try if he can hear any
+tidings of the battle.”
+
+“D--n the battle,” said the Major; “it puts this family as much out of
+order as if there had never been such a thing in the country before--and
+yet there was such a place as Kilsythe, John.”
+
+“Ay, and as Tippermuir, your honour,” replied Gudyill, “where I was his
+honour my late master’s rear-rank man.”
+
+“And Alford, John,” pursued the Major, “where I commanded the horse; and
+Innerlochy, where I was the Great Marquis’s aid-de-camp; and Auld Earn,
+and Brig o’ Dee.”
+
+“And Philiphaugh, your honour,” said John.
+
+“Umph!” replied the Major; “the less, John, we say about that matter, the
+better.”
+
+However, being once fairly embarked on the subject of Montrose’s
+campaigns, the Major and John Gudyill carried on the war so stoutly, as
+for a considerable time to keep at bay the formidable enemy called Time,
+with whom retired veterans, during the quiet close of a bustling life,
+usually wage an unceasing hostility.
+
+It has been frequently remarked, that the tidings of important events fly
+with a celerity almost beyond the power of credibility, and that reports,
+correct in the general point, though inaccurate in details, precede the
+certain intelligence, as if carried by the birds of the air. Such rumours
+anticipate the reality, not unlike to the “shadows of coming events,”
+ which occupy the imagination of the Highland Seer. Harrison, in his ride,
+encountered some such report concerning the event of the battle, and
+turned his horse back to Tillietudlem in great dismay. He made it his
+first business to seek out the Major, and interrupted him in the midst of
+a prolix account of the siege and storm of Dundee, with the ejaculation,
+“Heaven send, Major, that we do not see a siege of Tillietudlem before we
+are many days older!”
+
+“How is that, Harrison?--what the devil do you mean?” exclaimed the
+astonished veteran.
+
+“Troth, sir, there is strong and increasing belief that Claver’se is
+clean broken, some say killed; that the soldiers are all dispersed, and
+that the rebels are hastening this way, threatening death and devastation
+to a’ that will not take the Covenant.”
+
+“I will never believe that,” said the Major, starting on his feet--“I
+will never believe that the Life-Guards would retreat before rebels;--and
+yet why need I say that,” he continued, checking himself, “when I have
+seen such sights myself?--Send out Pike, and one or two of the servants,
+for intelligence, and let all the men in the Castle and in the village
+that can be trusted take up arms. This old tower may hold them play a
+bit, if it were but victualled and garrisoned, and it commands the pass
+between the high and low countries.--It’s lucky I chanced to be
+here.--Go, muster men, Harrison.--You, Gudyill, look what provisions you
+have, or can get brought in, and be ready, if the news be confirmed, to
+knock down as many bullocks as you have salt for.--The well never goes
+dry.--There are some old-fashioned guns on the battlements; if we had
+but ammunition, we should do well enough.”
+
+“The soldiers left some casks of ammunition at the Grange this morning,
+to bide their return,” said Harrison.
+
+“Hasten, then,” said the Major, “and bring it into the Castle, with every
+pike, sword, pistol, or gun, that is within our reach; don’t leave so
+much as a bodkin--Lucky that I was here!--I will speak to my sister
+instantly.”
+
+Lady Margaret Bellenden was astounded at intelligence so unexpected and
+so alarming. It had seemed to her that the imposing force which had that
+morning left her walls, was sufficient to have routed all the disaffected
+in Scotland, if collected in a body; and now her first reflection was
+upon the inadequacy of their own means of resistance, to an army strong
+enough to have defeated Claverhouse and such select troops. “Woe’s me!
+woe’s me!” said she; “what will all that we can do avail us, brother?--
+What will resistance do but bring sure destruction on the house, and on
+the bairn Edith! for, God knows, I thinkna on my ain auld life.”
+
+“Come, sister,” said the Major, “you must not be cast down; the place is
+strong, the rebels ignorant and ill-provided: my brother’s house shall
+not be made a den of thieves and rebels while old Miles Bellenden is in
+it. My hand is weaker than it was, but I thank my old grey hairs that I
+have some knowledge of war yet. Here comes Pike with intelligence.--What
+news, Pike? Another Philiphaugh job, eh?”
+
+“Ay, ay,” said Pike, composedly; “a total scattering.--I thought this
+morning little gude would come of their newfangled gate of slinging their
+carabines.”
+
+“Whom did you see?--Who gave you the news?” asked the Major.
+
+“O, mair than half-a-dozen dragoon fellows that are a’ on the spur whilk
+to get first to Hamilton. They’ll win the race, I warrant them, win the
+battle wha like.”
+
+“Continue your preparations, Harrison,” said the alert veteran; “get your
+ammunition in, and the cattle killed. Send down to the borough-town for
+what meal you can gather. We must not lose an instant.--Had not Edith and
+you, sister, better return to Charnwood, while we have the means of
+sending you there?”
+
+“No, brother,” said Lady Margaret, looking very pale, but speaking with
+the greatest composure; “since the auld house is to be held out, I will
+take my chance in it. I have fled twice from it in my days, and I have
+aye found it desolate of its bravest and its bonniest when I returned;
+sae that I will e’en abide now, and end my pilgrimage in it.”
+
+“It may, on the whole, be the safest course both for Edith and you,” said
+the Major; “for the whigs will rise all the way between this and Glasgow,
+and make your travelling there, or your dwelling at Charnwood, very
+unsafe.”
+
+“So be it then,” said Lady Margaret; “and, dear brother, as the nearest
+blood-relation of my deceased husband, I deliver to you, by this
+symbol,”--(here she gave into his hand the venerable goldheaded staff of
+the deceased Earl of Torwood,)--“the keeping and government and
+seneschalship of my Tower of Tillietudlem, and the appurtenances thereof,
+with full power to kill, slay, and damage those who shall assail the
+same, as freely as I might do myself. And I trust you will so defend it,
+as becomes a house in which his most sacred majesty has not disdained”--
+
+“Pshaw! sister,” interrupted the Major, “we have no time to speak about
+the king and his breakfast just now.”
+
+And, hastily leaving the room, he hurried, with all the alertness of a
+young man of twenty-five, to examine the state of his garrison, and
+superintend the measures which were necessary for defending the place.
+
+The Tower of Tillietudlem, having very thick walls, and very narrow
+windows, having also a very strong court-yard wall, with flanking turrets
+on the only accessible side, and rising on the other from the very verge
+of a precipice, was fully capable of defence against any thing but a
+train of heavy artillery.
+
+Famine or escalade was what the garrison had chiefly to fear. For
+artillery, the top of the Tower was mounted with some antiquated
+wall-pieces, and small cannons, which bore the old-fashioned names of
+culverins, sakers, demi-sakers, falcons, and falconets. These, the Major,
+with the assistance of John Gudyill, caused to be scaled and loaded, and
+pointed them so as to command the road over the brow of the opposite hill
+by which the rebels must advance, causing, at the same time, two or three
+trees to be cut down, which would have impeded the effect of the
+artillery when it should be necessary to use it. With the trunks of these
+trees, and other materials, he directed barricades to be constructed upon
+the winding avenue which rose to the Tower along the high-road, taking
+care that each should command the other. The large gate of the court-yard
+he barricadoed yet more strongly, leaving only a wicket open for the
+convenience of passage. What he had most to apprehend, was the
+slenderness of his garrison; for all the efforts of the steward were
+unable to get more than nine men under arms, himself and Gudyill
+included, so much more popular was the cause of the insurgents than that
+of the government Major Bellenden, and his trusty servant Pike, made the
+garrison eleven in number, of whom one-half were old men. The round dozen
+might indeed have been made up, would Lady Margaret have consented that
+Goose Gibbie should again take up arms. But she recoiled from the
+proposal, when moved by Gudyill, with such abhorrent recollection of the
+former achievements of that luckless cavalier, that she declared she
+would rather the Castle were lost than that he were to be enrolled in the
+defence of it. With eleven men, however, himself included, Major
+Bellenden determined to hold out the place to the uttermost.
+
+The arrangements for defence were not made without the degree of fracas
+incidental to such occasions. Women shrieked, cattle bellowed, dogs
+howled, men ran to and fro, cursing and swearing without intermission,
+the lumbering of the old guns backwards and forwards shook the
+battlements, the court resounded with the hasty gallop of messengers who
+went and returned upon errands of importance, and the din of warlike
+preparation was mingled with the sound of female laments.
+
+Such a Babel of discord might have awakened the slumbers of the very
+dead, and, therefore, was not long ere it dispelled the abstracted
+reveries of Edith Bellenden. She sent out Jenny to bring her the cause of
+the tumult which shook the castle to its very basis; but Jenny, once
+engaged in the bustling tide, found so much to ask and to hear, that she
+forgot the state of anxious uncertainty in which she had left her young
+mistress. Having no pigeon to dismiss in pursuit of information when her
+raven messenger had failed to return with it, Edith was compelled to
+venture in quest of it out of the ark of her own chamber into the deluge
+of confusion which overflowed the rest of the Castle. Six voices speaking
+at once, informed her, in reply to her first enquiry, that Claver’se and
+all his men were killed, and that ten thousand whigs were marching to
+besiege the castle, headed by John Balfour of Burley, young Milnwood, and
+Cuddie Headrigg. This strange association of persons seemed to infer the
+falsehood of the whole story, and yet the general bustle in the Castle
+intimated that danger was certainly apprehended.
+
+“Where is Lady Margaret?” was Edith’s second question.
+
+“In her oratory,” was the reply: a cell adjoining to the chapel, in which
+the good old lady was wont to spend the greater part of the days destined
+by the rules of the Episcopal Church to devotional observances, as also
+the anniversaries of those on which she had lost her husband and her
+children, and, finally, those hours, in which a deeper and more solemn
+address to Heaven was called for, by national or domestic calamity.
+
+“Where, then,” said Edith, much alarmed, “is Major Bellenden?”
+
+“On the battlements of the Tower, madam, pointing the cannon,” was the
+reply.
+
+To the battlements, therefore, she made her way, impeded by a thousand
+obstacles, and found the old gentleman in the midst of his natural
+military element, commanding, rebuking, encouraging, instructing, and
+exercising all the numerous duties of a good governor.
+
+“In the name of God, what is the matter, uncle?” exclaimed Edith.
+
+“The matter, my love?” answered the Major coolly, as, with spectacles on
+his nose, he examined the position of a gun--“The matter? Why,--raise her
+breech a thought more, John Gudyill--the matter? Why, Claver’se is
+routed, my dear, and the whigs are coming down upon us in force, that’s
+all the matter.”
+
+“Gracious powers!” said Edith, whose eye at that instant caught a glance
+of the road which ran up the river, “and yonder they come!”
+
+“Yonder? where?” said the veteran; and, his eyes taking the same
+direction, he beheld a large body of horsemen coming down the path.
+“Stand to your guns, my lads!” was the first exclamation; “we’ll make
+them pay toll as they pass the heugh.--But stay, stay, these are
+certainly the Life-Guards.”
+
+“O no, uncle, no,” replied Edith; “see how disorderly they ride, and how
+ill they keep their ranks; these cannot be the fine soldiers who left us
+this morning.”
+
+“Ah, my dear girl!” answered the Major, “you do not know the difference
+between men before a battle and after a defeat; but the Life-Guards it
+is, for I see the red and blue and the King’s colours. I am glad they
+have brought them off, however.”
+
+His opinion was confirmed as the troopers approached nearer, and finally
+halted on the road beneath the Tower; while their commanding officer,
+leaving them to breathe and refresh their horses, hastily rode up the
+hill.
+
+“It is Claverhouse, sure enough,” said the Major; “I am glad he has
+escaped, but he has lost his famous black horse. Let Lady Margaret know,
+John Gudyill; order some refreshments; get oats for the soldiers’ horses;
+and let us to the hall, Edith, to meet him. I surmise we shall hear but
+indifferent news.”
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+                    With careless gesture, mind unmoved,
+                    On rade he north the plain,
+                    His seem in thrang of fiercest strife,
+                    When winner aye the same.
+                                             Hardyknute.
+
+Colonel Grahame of Claverhouse met the family, assembled in the hall of
+the Tower, with the same serenity and the same courtesy which had graced
+his manners in the morning. He had even had the composure to rectify in
+part the derangement of his dress, to wash the signs of battle from his
+face and hands, and did not appear more disordered in his exterior than
+if returned from a morning ride.
+
+“I am grieved, Colonel Grahame,” said the reverend old lady, the tears
+trickling down her face, “deeply grieved.”
+
+“And I am grieved, my dear Lady Margaret,” replied Claverhouse, “that
+this misfortune may render your remaining at Tillietudlem dangerous for
+you, especially considering your recent hospitality to the King’s troops,
+and your well-known loyalty. And I came here chiefly to request Miss
+Bellenden and you to accept my escort (if you will not scorn that of a
+poor runaway) to Glasgow, from whence I will see you safely sent either
+to Edinburgh or to Dunbarton Castle, as you shall think best.”
+
+“I am much obliged to you, Colonel Grahame,” replied Lady Margaret; “but
+my brother, Major Bellenden, has taken on him the responsibility of
+holding out this house against the rebels; and, please God, they shall
+never drive Margaret Bellenden from her ain hearth-stane while there’s a
+brave man that says he can defend it.”
+
+“And will Major Bellenden undertake this?” said Claverhouse hastily, a
+joyful light glancing from his dark eye as he turned it on the
+veteran,--“Yet why should I question it? it is of a piece with the rest
+of his life.--But have you the means, Major?”
+
+“All, but men and provisions, with which we are ill supplied,” answered
+the Major.
+
+“As for men,” said Claverhouse, “I will leave you a dozen or twenty
+fellows who will make good a breach against the devil. It will be of the
+utmost service, if you can defend the place but a week, and by that time
+you must surely be relieved.”
+
+“I will make it good for that space, Colonel,” replied the Major, “with
+twenty-five good men and store of ammunition, if we should gnaw the soles
+of our shoes for hunger; but I trust we shall get in provisions from the
+country.”
+
+“And, Colonel Grahame, if I might presume a request,” said Lady Margaret,
+“I would entreat that Sergeant Francis Stewart might command the
+auxiliaries whom you are so good as to add to the garrison of our people;
+it may serve to legitimate his promotion, and I have a prejudice in
+favour of his noble birth.”
+
+“The sergeant’s wars are ended, madam,” said Grahame, in an unaltered
+tone, “and he now needs no promotion that an earthly master can give.”
+
+“Pardon me,” said Major Bellenden, taking Claverhouse by the arm, and
+turning him away from the ladies, “but I am anxious for my friends; I
+fear you have other and more important loss. I observe another officer
+carries your nephew’s standard.”
+
+“You are right, Major Bellenden,” answered Claverhouse firmly; “my nephew
+is no more. He has died in his duty, as became him.”
+
+“Great God!” exclaimed the Major, “how unhappy!--the handsome, gallant,
+high-spirited youth!”
+
+“He was indeed all you say,” answered Claverhouse; “poor Richard was to
+me as an eldest son, the apple of my eye, and my destined heir; but he
+died in his duty, and I--I--Major Bellenden”--(he wrung the Major’s hand
+hard as he spoke)--“I live to avenge him.”
+
+“Colonel Grahame,” said the affectionate veteran, his eyes filling with
+tears, “I am glad to see you bear this misfortune with such fortitude.”
+
+“I am not a selfish man,” replied Claverhouse, “though the world will
+tell you otherwise; I am not selfish either in my hopes or fears, my joys
+or sorrows. I have not been severe for myself, or grasping for myself, or
+ambitious for myself. The service of my master and the good of the
+country are what I have tried to aim at. I may, perhaps, have driven
+severity into cruelty, but I acted for the best; and now I will not yield
+to my own feelings a deeper sympathy than I have given to those of
+others.”
+
+“I am astonished at your fortitude under all the unpleasant circumstances
+of this affair,” pursued the Major.
+
+“Yes,” replied Claverhouse, “my enemies in the council will lay this
+misfortune to my charge--I despise their accusations. They will
+calumniate me to my sovereign--I can repel their charge. The public enemy
+will exult in my flight--I shall find a time to show them that they exult
+too early. This youth that has fallen stood betwixt a grasping kinsman
+and my inheritance, for you know that my marriage-bed is barren; yet,
+peace be with him! the country can better spare him than your friend Lord
+Evandale, who, after behaving very gallantly, has, I fear, also fallen.”
+
+“What a fatal day!” ejaculated the Major. “I heard a report of this, but
+it was again contradicted; it was added, that the poor young nobleman’s
+impetuosity had occasioned the loss of this unhappy field.”
+
+“Not so, Major,” said Grahame; “let the living officers bear the blame,
+if there be any; and let the laurels flourish untarnished on the grave of
+the fallen. I do not, however, speak of Lord Evandale’s death as certain;
+but killed, or prisoner, I fear he must be. Yet he was extricated from
+the tumult the last time we spoke together. We were then on the point of
+leaving the field with a rear-guard of scarce twenty men; the rest of the
+regiment were almost dispersed.”
+
+“They have rallied again soon,” said the Major, looking from the window
+on the dragoons, who were feeding their horses and refreshing themselves
+beside the brook.
+
+“Yes,” answered Claverhouse, “my blackguards had little temptation either
+to desert, or to straggle farther than they were driven by their first
+panic. There is small friendship and scant courtesy between them and the
+boors of this country; every village they pass is likely to rise on them,
+and so the scoundrels are driven back to their colours by a wholesome
+terror of spits, pike-staves, hay-forks, and broomsticks.--But now let us
+talk about your plans and wants, and the means of corresponding with you.
+To tell you the truth, I doubt being able to make a long stand at
+Glasgow, even when I have joined my Lord Ross; for this transient and
+accidental success of the fanatics will raise the devil through all the
+western counties.”
+
+They then discussed Major Bellenden’s means of defence, and settled a
+plan of correspondence, in case a general insurrection took place, as was
+to be expected. Claverhouse renewed his offer to escort the ladies to a
+place of safety; but, all things considered, Major Bellenden thought they
+would be in equal safety at Tillietudlem.
+
+The Colonel then took a polite leave of Lady Margaret and Miss Bellenden,
+assuring them, that, though he was reluctantly obliged to leave them for
+the present in dangerous circumstances, yet his earliest means should be
+turned to the redemption of his character as a good knight and true, and
+that they might speedily rely on hearing from or seeing him.
+
+Full of doubt and apprehension, Lady Margaret was little able to reply to
+a speech so much in unison with her usual expressions and feelings, but
+contented herself with bidding Claverhouse farewell, and thanking him for
+the succours which he had promised to leave them. Edith longed to enquire
+the fate of Henry Morton, but could find no pretext for doing so, and
+could only hope that it had made a subject of some part of the long
+private communication which her uncle had held with Claverhouse. On this
+subject, however, she was disappointed; for the old cavalier was so
+deeply immersed in the duties of his own office, that he had scarce said
+a single word to Claverhouse, excepting upon military matters, and most
+probably would have been equally forgetful, had the fate of his own son,
+instead of his friend’s, lain in the balance.
+
+Claverhouse now descended the bank on which the castle is founded, in
+order to put his troops again in motion, and Major Bellenden accompanied
+him to receive the detachment who were to be left in the tower.
+
+“I shall leave Inglis with you,” said Claverhouse, “for, as I am
+situated, I cannot spare an officer of rank; it is all we can do, by our
+joint efforts, to keep the men together. But should any of our missing
+officers make their appearance, I authorize you to detain them; for my
+fellows can with difficulty be subjected to any other authority.”
+
+His troops being now drawn up, he picked out sixteen men by name, and
+committed them to the command of Corporal Inglis, whom he promoted to the
+rank of sergeant on the spot.
+
+“And hark ye, gentlemen,” was his concluding harangue, “I leave you to
+defend the house of a lady, and under the command of her brother, Major
+Bellenden, a faithful servant to the king. You are to behave bravely,
+soberly, regularly, and obediently, and each of you shall be handsomely
+rewarded on my return to relieve the garrison. In case of mutiny,
+cowardice, neglect of duty, or the slightest excess in the family, the
+provost-marshal and cord--you know I keep my word for good and evil.”
+
+He touched his hat as he bade them farewell, and shook hands cordially
+with Major Bellenden.
+
+“Adieu,” he said, “my stout-hearted old friend! Good luck be with you,
+and better times to us both.”
+
+The horsemen whom he commanded had been once more reduced to tolerable
+order by the exertions of Major Allan; and, though shorn of their
+splendour, and with their gilding all besmirched, made a much more
+regular and military appearance on leaving, for the second time, the
+tower of Tillietudlem, than when they returned to it after their rout.
+
+Major Bellenden, now left to his own resources sent out several videttes,
+both to obtain supplies of provisions, and especially of meal, and to get
+knowledge of the motions of the enemy. All the news he could collect on
+the second subject tended to prove that the insurgents meant to remain on
+the field of battle for that night. But they, also, had abroad their
+detachments and advanced guards to collect supplies, and great was the
+doubt and distress of those who received contrary orders, in the name of
+the King and in that of the Kirk; the one commanding them to send
+provisions to victual the Castle of Tillietudlem, and the other enjoining
+them to forward supplies to the camp of the godly professors of true
+religion, now in arms for the cause of covenanted reformation, presently
+pitched at Drumclog, nigh to Loudon-hill. Each summons closed with a
+denunciation of fire and sword if it was neglected; for neither party
+could confide so far in the loyalty or zeal of those whom they addressed,
+as to hope they would part with their property upon other terms. So that
+the poor people knew not what hand to turn themselves to; and, to say
+truth, there were some who turned themselves to more than one.
+
+“Thir kittle times will drive the wisest o’ us daft,” said Niel Blane,
+the prudent host of the Howff; “but I’se aye keep a calm sough.--Jenny,
+what meal is in the girnel?”
+
+“Four bows o’ aitmeal, twa bows o’ bear, and twa bows o’ pease,” was
+Jenny’s reply.
+
+“Aweel, hinny,” continued Niel Blane, sighing deeply, “let Bauldy drive
+the pease and bear meal to the camp at Drumclog--he’s a whig, and was the
+auld gudewife’s pleughman--the mashlum bannocks will suit their muirland
+stamachs weel. He maun say it’s the last unce o’ meal in the house, or,
+if he scruples to tell a lie, (as it’s no likely he will when it’s for
+the gude o’ the house,) he may wait till Duncan Glen, the auld drucken
+trooper, drives up the aitmeal to Tillietudlem, wi’ my dutifu’ service to
+my Leddy and the Major, and I haena as muckle left as will mak my
+parritch; and if Duncan manage right, I’ll gie him a tass o’ whisky shall
+mak the blue low come out at his mouth.”
+
+“And what are we to eat oursells then, father,” asked Jenny, “when we hae
+sent awa the haill meal in the ark and the girnel?”
+
+“We maun gar wheat-flour serve us for a blink,” said Niel, in a tone of
+resignation; “it’s no that ill food, though far frae being sae hearty or
+kindly to a Scotchman’s stamach as the curney aitmeal is; the Englishers
+live amaist upon’t; but, to be sure, the pock-puddings ken nae better.”
+
+While the prudent and peaceful endeavoured, like Niel Blane, to make fair
+weather with both parties, those who had more public (or party) spirit
+began to take arms on all sides. The royalists in the country were not
+numerous, but were respectable from their fortune and influence, being
+chiefly landed proprietors of ancient descent, who, with their brothers,
+cousins, and dependents to the ninth generation, as well as their
+domestic servants, formed a sort of militia, capable of defending their
+own peel-houses against detached bodies of the insurgents, of resisting
+their demand of supplies, and intercepting those which were sent to the
+presbyterian camp by others. The news that the Tower of Tillietudlem was
+to be defended against the insurgents, afforded great courage and support
+to these feudal volunteers, who considered it as a stronghold to which
+they might retreat, in case it should become impossible for them to
+maintain the desultory war they were now about to wage.
+
+On the other hand, the towns, the villages, the farm-houses, the
+properties of small heritors, sent forth numerous recruits to the
+presbyterian interest. These men had been the principal sufferers during
+the oppression of the time. Their minds were fretted, soured, and driven
+to desperation, by the various exactions and cruelties to which they had
+been subjected; and, although by no means united among themselves, either
+concerning the purpose of this formidable insurrection, or the means by
+which that purpose was to be obtained, most of them considered it as a
+door opened by Providence to obtain the liberty of conscience of which
+they had been long deprived, and to shake themselves free of a tyranny,
+directed both against body and soul. Numbers of these men, therefore,
+took up arms; and, in the phrase of their time and party, prepared to
+cast in their lot with the victors of Loudon-hill.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+          Ananias. I do not like the man: He is a heathen,
+          And speaks the language of Canaan truly.
+
+          Tribulation. You must await his calling, and the coming
+          Of the good spirit. You did ill to upbraid him.
+                                             The Alchemist.
+
+We return to Henry Morton, whom we left on the field of battle. He was
+eating, by one of the watch-fires, his portion of the provisions which
+had been distributed to the army, and musing deeply on the path which he
+was next to pursue, when Burley suddenly came up to him, accompanied by
+the young minister, whose exhortation after the victory had produced such
+a powerful effect.
+
+“Henry Morton,” said Balfour abruptly, “the council of the army of the
+Covenant, confiding that the son of Silas Morton can never prove a
+lukewarm Laodicean, or an indifferent Gallio, in this great day, have
+nominated you to be a captain of their host, with the right of a vote in
+their council, and all authority fitting for an officer who is to command
+Christian men.”
+
+“Mr Balfour,” replied Morton, without hesitation, “I feel this mark of
+confidence, and it is not surprising that a natural sense of the injuries
+of my country, not to mention those I have sustained in my own person,
+should make me sufficiently willing to draw my sword for liberty and
+freedom of conscience. But I will own to you, that I must be better
+satisfied concerning the principles on which you bottom your cause ere I
+can agree to take a command amongst you.”
+
+“And can you doubt of our principles,” answered Burley, “since we have
+stated them to be the reformation both of church and state, the
+rebuilding of the decayed sanctuary, the gathering of the dispersed
+saints, and the destruction of the man of sin?”
+
+“I will own frankly, Mr Balfour,” replied Morton, “much of this sort of
+language, which, I observe, is so powerful with others, is entirely lost
+on me. It is proper you should be aware of this before we commune further
+together.” (The young clergyman here groaned deeply.) “I distress you,
+sir,” said Morton; “but, perhaps, it is because you will not hear me out.
+I revere the Scriptures as deeply as you or any Christian can do. I look
+into them with humble hope of extracting a rule of conduct and a law of
+salvation. But I expect to find this by an examination of their general
+tenor, and of the spirit which they uniformly breathe, and not by
+wresting particular passages from their context, or by the application of
+Scriptural phrases to circumstances and events with which they have often
+very slender relation.”
+
+The young divine seemed shocked and thunderstruck with this declaration,
+and was about to remonstrate.
+
+“Hush, Ephraim!” said Burley, “remember he is but as a babe in swaddling
+clothes.--Listen to me, Morton. I will speak to thee in the worldly
+language of that carnal reason, which is, for the present, thy blind and
+imperfect guide. What is the object for which thou art content to draw
+thy sword? Is it not that the church and state should be reformed by the
+free voice of a free parliament, with such laws as shall hereafter
+prevent the executive government from spilling the blood, torturing and
+imprisoning the persons, exhausting the estates, and trampling upon the
+consciences of men, at their own wicked pleasure?”
+
+“Most certainly,” said Morton; “such I esteem legitimate causes of
+warfare, and for such I will fight while I can wield a sword.”
+
+“Nay, but,” said Macbriar, “ye handle this matter too tenderly; nor will
+my conscience permit me to fard or daub over the causes of divine wrath.”
+
+“Peace, Ephraim Macbriar!” again interrupted Burley.
+
+“I will not peace,” said the young man. “Is it not the cause of my Master
+who hath sent me? Is it not a profane and Erastian destroying of his
+authority, usurpation of his power, denial of his name, to place either
+King or Parliament in his place as the master and governor of his
+household, the adulterous husband of his spouse?”
+
+“You speak well,” said Burley, dragging him aside, “but not wisely; your
+own ears have heard this night in council how this scattered remnant are
+broken and divided, and would ye now make a veil of separation between
+them? Would ye build a wall with unslaked mortar?--if a fox go up, it
+will breach it.”
+
+“I know,” said the young clergyman, in reply, “that thou art faithful,
+honest, and zealous, even unto slaying; but, believe me, this worldly
+craft, this temporizing with sin and with infirmity, is in itself a
+falling away; and I fear me Heaven will not honour us to do much more for
+His glory, when we seek to carnal cunning and to a fleshly arm. The
+sanctified end must be wrought by sanctified means.”
+
+“I tell thee,” answered Balfour, “thy zeal is too rigid in this matter;
+we cannot yet do without the help of the Laodiceans and the Erastians; we
+must endure for a space the indulged in the midst of the council--the
+sons of Zeruiah are yet too strong for us.”
+
+“I tell thee I like it not,” said Macbriar; “God can work deliverance by
+a few as well as by a multitude. The host of the faithful that was broken
+upon Pentland-hills, paid but the fitting penalty of acknowledging the
+carnal interest of that tyrant and oppressor, Charles Stewart.”
+
+“Well, then,” said Balfour, “thou knowest the healing resolution that the
+council have adopted,--to make a comprehending declaration, that may suit
+the tender consciences of all who groan under the yoke of our present
+oppressors. Return to the council if thou wilt, and get them to recall
+it, and send forth one upon narrower grounds. But abide not here to
+hinder my gaining over this youth, whom my soul travails for; his name
+alone will call forth hundreds to our banners.”
+
+“Do as thou wilt, then,” said Macbriar; “but I will not assist to mislead
+the youth, nor bring him into jeopardy of life, unless upon such grounds
+as will ensure his eternal reward.”
+
+The more artful Balfour then dismissed the impatient preacher, and
+returned to his proselyte.
+
+That we may be enabled to dispense with detailing at length the arguments
+by which he urged Morton to join the insurgents, we shall take this
+opportunity to give a brief sketch of the person by whom they were used,
+and the motives which he had for interesting himself so deeply in the
+conversion of young Morton to his cause.
+
+John Balfour of Kinloch, or Burley, for he is designated both ways in the
+histories and proclamations of that melancholy period, was a gentleman of
+some fortune, and of good family, in the county of Fife, and had been a
+soldier from his youth upwards. In the younger part of his life he had
+been wild and licentious, but had early laid aside open profligacy, and
+embraced the strictest tenets of Calvinism. Unfortunately, habits of
+excess and intemperance were more easily rooted out of his dark,
+saturnine, and enterprising spirit, than the vices of revenge and
+ambition, which continued, notwithstanding his religious professions, to
+exercise no small sway over his mind. Daring in design, precipitate and
+violent in execution, and going to the very extremity of the most rigid
+recusancy, it was his ambition to place himself at the head of the
+presbyterian interest.
+
+To attain this eminence among the whigs, he had been active in attending
+their conventicles, and more than once had commanded them when they
+appeared in arms, and beaten off the forces sent to disperse them. At
+length, the gratification of his own fierce enthusiasm, joined, as some
+say, with motives of private revenge, placed him at the head of that
+party who assassinated the Primate of Scotland, as the author of the
+sufferings of the presbyterians. The violent measures adopted by
+government to revenge this deed, not on the perpetrators only, but on the
+whole professors of the religion to which they belonged, together with
+long previous sufferings, without any prospect of deliverance, except by
+force of arms, occasioned the insurrection, which, as we have already
+seen, commenced by the defeat of Claverhouse in the bloody skirmish of
+Loudon-hill.
+
+But Burley, notwithstanding the share he had in the victory, was far from
+finding himself at the summit which his ambition aimed at. This was
+partly owing to the various opinions entertained among the insurgents
+concerning the murder of Archbishop Sharpe. The more violent among them
+did, indeed, approve of this act as a deed of justice, executed upon a
+persecutor of God’s church through the immediate inspiration of the
+Deity; but the greater part of the presbyterians disowned the deed as a
+crime highly culpable, although they admitted, that the Archbishop’s
+punishment had by no means exceeded his deserts. The insurgents differed
+in another main point, which has been already touched upon. The more warm
+and extravagant fanatics condemned, as guilty of a pusillanimous
+abandonment of the rights of the church, those preachers and
+congregations who were contented, in any manner, to exercise their
+religion through the permission of the ruling government. This, they
+said, was absolute Erastianism, or subjection of the church of God to the
+regulations of an earthly government, and therefore but one degree better
+than prelacy or popery.--Again, the more moderate party were content to
+allow the king’s title to the throne, and in secular affairs to
+acknowledge his authority, so long as it was exercised with due regard to
+the liberties of the subject, and in conformity to the laws of the realm.
+But the tenets of the wilder sect, called, from their leader Richard
+Cameron, by the name of Cameronians, went the length of disowning the
+reigning monarch, and every one of his successors, who should not
+acknowledge the Solemn League and Covenant. The seeds of disunion were,
+therefore, thickly sown in this ill-fated party; and Balfour, however
+enthusiastic, and however much attached to the most violent of those
+tenets which we have noticed, saw nothing but ruin to the general cause,
+if they were insisted on during this crisis, when unity was of so much
+consequence. Hence he disapproved, as we have seen, of the honest,
+downright, and ardent zeal of Macbriar, and was extremely desirous to
+receive the assistance of the moderate party of presbyterians in the
+immediate overthrow of the government, with the hope of being hereafter
+able to dictate to them what should be substituted in its place.
+
+He was, on this account, particularly anxious to secure the accession of
+Henry Morton to the cause of the insurgents. The memory of his father was
+generally esteemed among the presbyterians; and as few persons of any
+decent quality had joined the insurgents, this young man’s family and
+prospects were such as almost ensured his being chosen a leader. Through
+Morton’s means, as being the son of his ancient comrade, Burley conceived
+he might exercise some influence over the more liberal part of the army,
+and ultimately, perhaps, ingratiate himself so far with them, as to be
+chosen commander-in-chief, which was the mark at which his ambition
+aimed. He had, therefore, without waiting till any other person took up
+the subject, exalted to the council the talents and disposition of
+Morton, and easily obtained his elevation to the painful rank of a leader
+in this disunited and undisciplined army.
+
+The arguments by which Balfour pressed Morton to accept of this dangerous
+promotion, as soon as he had gotten rid of his less wary and
+uncompromising companion, Macbriar, were sufficiently artful and urgent.
+He did not affect either to deny or to disguise that the sentiments which
+he himself entertained concerning church government, went as far as those
+of the preacher who had just left them; but he argued, that when the
+affairs of the nation were at such a desperate crisis, minute difference
+of opinion should not prevent those who, in general, wished well to their
+oppressed country, from drawing their swords in its behalf. Many of the
+subjects of division, as, for example, that concerning the Indulgence
+itself, arose, he observed, out of circumstances which would cease to
+exist, provided their attempt to free the country should be successful,
+seeing that the presbytery, being in that case triumphant, would need to
+make no such compromise with the government, and, consequently, with the
+abolition of the Indulgence all discussion of its legality would be at
+once ended. He insisted much and strongly upon the necessity of taking
+advantage of this favourable crisis, upon the certainty of their being
+joined by the force of the whole western shires, and upon the gross guilt
+which those would incur, who, seeing the distress of the country, and the
+increasing tyranny with which it was governed, should, from fear or
+indifference, withhold their active aid from the good cause.
+
+Morton wanted not these arguments to induce him to join in any
+insurrection, which might appear to have a feasible prospect of freedom
+to the country. He doubted, indeed, greatly, whether the present attempt
+was likely to be supported by the strength sufficient to ensure success,
+or by the wisdom and liberality of spirit necessary to make a good use of
+the advantages that might be gained. Upon the whole, however, considering
+the wrongs he had personally endured, and those which he had seen daily
+inflicted on his fellow-subjects; meditating also upon the precarious and
+dangerous situation in which he already stood with relation to the
+government, he conceived himself, in every point of view, called upon to
+join the body of presbyterians already in arms.
+
+But while he expressed to Burley his acquiescence in the vote which had
+named him a leader among the insurgents, and a member of their council of
+war, it was not without a qualification.
+
+“I am willing,” he said, “to contribute every thing within my limited
+power to effect the emancipation of my country. But do not mistake me. I
+disapprove, in the utmost degree, of the action in which this rising
+seems to have originated; and no arguments should induce me to join it,
+if it is to be carried on by such measures as that with which it has
+commenced.”
+
+Burley’s blood rushed to his face, giving a ruddy and dark glow to his
+swarthy brow.
+
+“You mean,” he said, in a voice which he designed should not betray any
+emotion--“You mean the death of James Sharpe?”
+
+“Frankly,” answered Morton, “such is my meaning.”
+
+“You imagine, then,” said Burley, “that the Almighty, in times of
+difficulty, does not raise up instruments to deliver his church from her
+oppressors? You are of opinion that the justice of an execution consists,
+not in the extent of the sufferer’s crime, or in his having merited
+punishment, or in the wholesome and salutary effect which that example is
+likely to produce upon other evil-doers, but hold that it rests solely in
+the robe of the judge, the height of the bench, and the voice of the
+doomster? Is not just punishment justly inflicted, whether on the
+scaffold or the moor? And where constituted judges, from cowardice, or
+from having cast in their lot with transgressors, suffer them not only to
+pass at liberty through the land, but to sit in the high places, and dye
+their garments in the blood of the saints, is it not well done in any
+brave spirits who shall draw their private swords in the public cause?”
+
+“I have no wish to judge this individual action,” replied Morton,
+“further than is necessary to make you fully aware of my principles. I
+therefore repeat, that the case you have supposed does not satisfy my
+judgment. That the Almighty, in his mysterious providence, may bring a
+bloody man to an end deservedly bloody, does not vindicate those who,
+without authority of any kind, take upon themselves to be the instruments
+of execution, and presume to call them the executors of divine
+vengeance.”
+
+“And were we not so?” said Burley, in a tone of fierce enthusiasm. “Were
+not we--was not every one who owned the interest of the Covenanted Church
+of Scotland, bound by that covenant to cut off the Judas who had sold the
+cause of God for fifty thousand merks a-year? Had we met him by the way
+as he came down from London, and there smitten him with the edge of the
+sword, we had done but the duty of men faithful to our cause, and to our
+oaths recorded in heaven. Was not the execution itself a proof of our
+warrant? Did not the Lord deliver him into our hands, when we looked out
+but for one of his inferior tools of persecution? Did we not pray to be
+resolved how we should act, and was it not borne in on our hearts as if
+it had been written on them with the point of a diamond, ‘Ye shall surely
+take him and slay him?’--Was not the tragedy full half an hour in acting
+ere the sacrifice was completed, and that in an open heath, and within
+the patrols of their garrisons--and yet who interrupted the great work?--
+What dog so much as bayed us during the pursuit, the taking, the slaying,
+and the dispersing? Then, who will say--who dare say, that a mightier arm
+than ours was not herein revealed?”
+
+“You deceive yourself, Mr Balfour,” said Morton; “such circumstances of
+facility of execution and escape have often attended the commission of
+the most enormous crimes.--But it is not mine to judge you. I have not
+forgotten that the way was opened to the former liberation of Scotland by
+an act of violence which no man can justify,--the slaughter of Cumming by
+the hand of Robert Bruce; and, therefore, condemning this action, as I do
+and must, I am not unwilling to suppose that you may have motives
+vindicating it in your own eyes, though not in mine, or in those of sober
+reason. I only now mention it, because I desire you to understand, that I
+join a cause supported by men engaged in open war, which it is proposed
+to carry on according to the rules of civilized nations, without, in any
+respect, approving of the act of violence which gave immediate rise to
+it.”
+
+Balfour bit his lip, and with difficulty suppressed a violent answer. He
+perceived, with disappointment, that, upon points of principle, his young
+brother-in-arms possessed a clearness of judgment, and a firmness of
+mind, which afforded but little hope of his being able to exert that
+degree of influence over him which he had expected to possess. After a
+moment’s pause, however, he said, with coolness, “My conduct is open to
+men and angels. The deed was not done in a corner; I am here in arms to
+avow it, and care not where, or by whom, I am called on to do so; whether
+in the council, the field of battle, the place of execution, or the day
+of the last great trial. I will not now discuss it further with one who
+is yet on the other side of the veil. But if you will cast in your lot
+with us as a brother, come with me to the council, who are still sitting,
+to arrange the future march of the army, and the means of improving our
+victory.”
+
+Morton arose and followed him in silence; not greatly delighted with his
+associate, and better satisfied with the general justice of the cause
+which he had espoused, than either with the measures or the motives of
+many of those who were embarked in it.
+
+
+[Illustration: Abbotsford--295]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+OLD MORTALITY
+
+By Walter Scott
+
+
+[Illustration: Titlepage]
+
+
+
+VOLUME II.
+
+
+[Illustration: Bookcover]
+
+
+[Illustration: Spines]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+               And look how many Grecian tents do stand
+               Hollow upon this plain--so many hollow factions.
+                                        Troilus and Cressida.
+
+In a hollow of the hill, about a quarter of a mile from the field of
+battle, was a shepherd’s hut; a miserable cottage, which, as the only
+enclosed spot within a moderate distance, the leaders of the presbyterian
+army had chosen for their council-house. Towards this spot Burley guided
+Morton, who was surprised, as he approached it, at the multifarious
+confusion of sounds which issued from its precincts. The calm and anxious
+gravity which it might be supposed would have presided in councils held
+on such important subjects, and at a period so critical, seemed to have
+given place to discord wild, and loud uproar, which fell on the ear of
+their new ally as an evil augury of their future measures. As they
+approached the door, they found it open indeed, but choked up with the
+bodies and heads of countrymen, who, though no members of the council,
+felt no scruple in intruding themselves upon deliberations in which they
+were so deeply interested. By expostulation, by threats, and even by some
+degree of violence, Burley, the sternness of whose character maintained a
+sort of superiority over these disorderly forces, compelled the intruders
+to retire, and, introducing Morton into the cottage, secured the door
+behind them against impertinent curiosity. At a less agitating moment,
+the young man might have been entertained with the singular scene of
+which he now found himself an auditor and a spectator.
+
+The precincts of the gloomy and ruinous hut were enlightened partly by
+some furze which blazed on the hearth, the smoke whereof, having no legal
+vent, eddied around, and formed over the heads of the assembled council a
+clouded canopy, as opake as their metaphysical theology, through which,
+like stars through mist, were dimly seen to twinkle a few blinking
+candles, or rather rushes dipped in tallow, the property of the poor
+owner of the cottage, which were stuck to the walls by patches of wet
+clay. This broken and dusky light showed many a countenance elated with
+spiritual pride, or rendered dark by fierce enthusiasm; and some whose
+anxious, wandering, and uncertain looks, showed they felt themselves
+rashly embarked in a cause which they had neither courage nor conduct to
+bring to a good issue, yet knew not how to abandon, for very shame. They
+were, indeed, a doubtful and disunited body. The most active of their
+number were those concerned with Burley in the death of the Primate, four
+or five of whom had found their way to Loudon-hill, together with other
+men of the same relentless and uncompromising zeal, who had, in various
+ways, given desperate and unpardonable offence to the government.
+
+With them were mingled their preachers, men who had spurned at the
+indulgence offered by government, and preferred assembling their flocks
+in the wilderness, to worshipping in temples built by human hands, if
+their doing the latter should be construed to admit any right on the part
+of their rulers to interfere with the supremacy of the Kirk. The other
+class of counsellors were such gentlemen of small fortune, and
+substantial farmers, as a sense of intolerable oppression had induced to
+take arms and join the insurgents. These also had their clergymen with
+them, and such divines, having many of them taken advantage of the
+indulgence, were prepared to resist the measures of their more violent
+brethren, who proposed a declaration in which they should give testimony
+against the warrants and instructions for indulgence as sinful and
+unlawful acts. This delicate question had been passed over in silence in
+the first draught of the manifestos which they intended to publish, of
+the reasons of their gathering in arms; but it had been stirred anew
+during Balfour’s absence, and, to his great vexation, he now found that
+both parties had opened upon it in full cry, Macbriar, Kettledrummle, and
+other teachers of the wanderers, being at the very spring-tide of
+polemical discussion with Peter Poundtext, the indulged pastor of
+Milnwood’s parish, who, it seems, had e’en girded himself with a
+broadsword, but, ere he was called upon to fight for the good cause of
+presbytery in the field, was manfully defending his own dogmata in the
+council. It was the din of this conflict, maintained chiefly between
+Poundtext and Kettledrummle, together with the clamour of their
+adherents, which had saluted Morton’s ears upon approaching the cottage.
+Indeed, as both the divines were men well gifted with words and lungs,
+and each fierce, ardent, and intolerant in defence of his own doctrine,
+prompt in the recollection of texts wherewith they battered each other
+without mercy, and deeply impressed with the importance of the subject of
+discussion, the noise of the debate betwixt them fell little short of
+that which might have attended an actual bodily conflict.
+
+Burley, scandalized at the disunion implied in this virulent strife of
+tongues, interposed between the disputants, and, by some general remarks
+on the unseasonableness of discord, a soothing address to the vanity of
+each party, and the exertion of the authority which his services in that
+day’s victory entitled him to assume, at length succeeded in prevailing
+upon them to adjourn farther discussion of the controversy. But although
+Kettledrummle and Poundtext were thus for the time silenced, they
+continued to eye each other like two dogs, who, having been separated by
+the authority of their masters while fighting, have retreated, each
+beneath the chair of his owner, still watching each other’s motions, and
+indicating, by occasional growls, by the erected bristles of the back and
+ears, and by the red glance of the eye, that their discord is unappeased,
+and that they only wait the first opportunity afforded by any general
+movement or commotion in the company, to fly once more at each other’s
+throats.
+
+Balfour took advantage of the momentary pause to present to the council
+Mr Henry Morton of Milnwood, as one touched with a sense of the evils of
+the times, and willing to peril goods and life in the precious cause for
+which his father, the renowned Silas Morton, had given in his time a
+soul-stirring testimony. Morton was instantly received with the right
+hand of fellowship by his ancient pastor, Poundtext, and by those among
+the insurgents who supported the more moderate principles. The others
+muttered something about Erastianism, and reminded each other in
+whispers, that Silas Morton, once a stout and worthy servant of the
+Covenant, had been a backslider in the day when the resolutioners had led
+the way in owning the authority of Charles Stewart, thereby making a gap
+whereat the present tyrant was afterwards brought in, to the oppression
+both of Kirk and country. They added, however, that, on this great day of
+calling, they would not refuse society with any who should put hand to
+the plough; and so Morton was installed in his office of leader and
+counsellor, if not with the full approbation of his colleagues, at least
+without any formal or avowed dissent. They proceeded, on Burley’s motion,
+to divide among themselves the command of the men who had assembled, and
+whose numbers were daily increasing. In this partition, the insurgents of
+Poundtext’s parish and congregation were naturally placed under the
+command of Morton; an arrangement mutually agreeable to both parties, as
+he was recommended to their confidence, as well by his personal qualities
+as his having been born among them.
+
+When this task was accomplished, it became necessary to determine what
+use was to be made of their victory. Morton’s heart throbbed high when he
+heard the Tower of Tillietudlem named as one of the most important
+positions to be seized upon. It commanded, as we have often noticed, the
+pass between the more wild and the more fertile country, and must
+furnish, it was plausibly urged, a stronghold and place of rendezvous to
+the cavaliers and malignants of the district, supposing the insurgents
+were to march onward and leave it uninvested. This measure was
+particularly urged as necessary by Poundtext and those of his immediate
+followers, whose habitations and families might be exposed to great
+severities, if this strong place were permitted to remain in possession
+of the royalists.
+
+“I opine,” said Poundtext,--for, like the other divines of the period, he
+had no hesitation in offering his advice upon military matters of which
+he was profoundly ignorant,--“I opine, that we should take in and raze
+that stronghold of the woman Lady Margaret Bellenden, even though we
+should build a fort and raise a mount against it; for the race is a
+rebellious and a bloody race, and their hand has been heavy on the
+children of the Covenant, both in the former and the latter times. Their
+hook hath been in our noses, and their bridle betwixt our jaws.”
+
+“What are their means and men of defence?” said Burley. “The place is
+strong; but I cannot conceive that two women can make it good against a
+host.”
+
+“There is also,” said Poundtext, “Harrison the steward, and John Gudyill,
+even the lady’s chief butler, who boasteth himself a man of war from his
+youth upward, and who spread the banner against the good cause with that
+man of Belial, James Grahame of Montrose.”
+
+“Pshaw!” returned Burley, scornfully, “a butler!”
+
+“Also, there is that ancient malignant,” replied Poundtext, “Miles
+Bellenden of Charnwood, whose hands have been dipped in the blood of the
+saints.”
+
+“If that,” said Burley, “be Miles Bellenden, the brother of Sir Arthur,
+he is one whose sword will not turn back from battle; but he must now be
+stricken in years.”
+
+“There was word in the country as I rode along,” said another of the
+council, “that so soon as they heard of the victory which has been given
+to us, they caused shut the gates of the tower, and called in men, and
+collected ammunition. They were ever a fierce and a malignant house.”
+
+“We will not, with my consent,” said Burley, “engage in a siege which may
+consume time. We must rush forward, and follow our advantage by occupying
+Glasgow; for I do not fear that the troops we have this day beaten, even
+with the assistance of my Lord Ross’s regiment, will judge it safe to
+await our coming.”
+
+“Howbeit,” said Poundtext, “we may display a banner before the Tower, and
+blow a trumpet, and summon them to come forth. It may be that they will
+give over the place into our mercy, though they be a rebellious people.
+And we will summon the women to come forth of their stronghold, that is,
+Lady Margaret Bellenden and her grand-daughter, and Jenny Dennison, which
+is a girl of an ensnaring eye, and the other maids, and we will give them
+a safe conduct, and send them in peace to the city, even to the town of
+Edinburgh. But John Gudyill, and Hugh Harrison, and Miles Bellenden, we
+will restrain with fetters of iron, even as they, in times bypast, have
+done to the martyred saints.”
+
+“Who talks of safe conduct and of peace?” said a shrill, broken, and
+overstrained voice, from the crowd.
+
+“Peace, brother Habakkuk,” said Macbriar, in a soothing tone, to the
+speaker.
+
+“I will not hold my peace,” reiterated the strange and unnatural voice;
+“is this a time to speak of peace, when the earth quakes, and the
+mountains are rent, and the rivers are changed into blood, and the
+two-edged sword is drawn from the sheath to drink gore as if it were
+water, and devour flesh as the fire devours dry stubble?”
+
+While he spoke thus, the orator struggled forward to the inner part of
+the circle, and presented to Morton’s wondering eyes a figure worthy of
+such a voice and such language. The rags of a dress which had once been
+black, added to the tattered fragments of a shepherd’s plaid, composed a
+covering scarce fit for the purposes of decency, much less for those of
+warmth or comfort. A long beard, as white as snow, hung down on his
+breast, and mingled with bushy, uncombed, grizzled hair, which hung in
+elf-locks around his wild and staring visage. The features seemed to be
+extenuated by penury and famine, until they hardly retained the likeness
+of a human aspect. The eyes, grey, wild, and wandering, evidently
+betokened a bewildered imagination. He held in his hand a rusty sword,
+clotted with blood, as were his long lean hands, which were garnished at
+the extremity with nails like eagle’s claws.
+
+“In the name of Heaven! who is he?” said Morton, in a whisper to
+Poundtext, surprised, shocked, and even startled, at this ghastly
+apparition, which looked more like the resurrection of some cannibal
+priest, or druid red from his human sacrifice, than like an earthly
+mortal.
+
+“It is Habakkuk Mucklewrath,” answered Poundtext, in the same tone, “whom
+the enemy have long detained in captivity in forts and castles, until his
+understanding hath departed from him, and, as I fear, an evil demon hath
+possessed him. Nevertheless, our violent brethren will have it, that he
+speaketh of the spirit, and that they fructify by his pouring forth.”
+
+Here he was interrupted by Mucklewrath, who cried in a voice that made
+the very beams of the roof quiver--“Who talks of peace and safe conduct?
+who speaks of mercy to the bloody house of the malignants? I say take the
+infants and dash them against the stones; take the daughters and the
+mothers of the house and hurl them from the battlements of their trust,
+that the dogs may fatten on their blood as they did on that of Jezabel,
+the spouse of Ahab, and that their carcasses may be dung to the face of
+the field even in the portion of their fathers!”
+
+“He speaks right,” said more than one sullen voice from behind; “we will
+be honoured with little service in the great cause, if we already make
+fair weather with Heaven’s enemies.”
+
+“This is utter abomination and daring impiety,” said Morton, unable to
+contain his indignation.
+
+“What blessing can you expect in a cause, in which you listen to the
+mingled ravings of madness and atrocity?”
+
+“Hush, young man!” said Kettledrummle, “and reserve thy censure for that
+for which thou canst render a reason. It is not for thee to judge into
+what vessels the spirit may be poured.”
+
+“We judge of the tree by the fruit,” said Poundtext, “and allow not that
+to be of divine inspiration that contradicts the divine laws.”
+
+“You forget, brother Poundtext,” said Macbriar, “that these are the
+latter days, when signs and wonders shall be multiplied.”
+
+Poundtext stood forward to reply; but, ere he could articulate a word,
+the insane preacher broke in with a scream that drowned all competition.
+
+“Who talks of signs and wonders? Am not I Habakkuk Mucklewrath, whose
+name is changed to Magor-Missabib, because I am made a terror unto myself
+and unto all that are around me?--I heard it--When did I hear it?--Was it
+not in the Tower of the Bass, that overhangeth the wide wild sea?--And it
+howled in the winds, and it roared in the billows, and it screamed, and
+it whistled, and it clanged, with the screams and the clang and the
+whistle of the sea-birds, as they floated, and flew, and dropped, and
+dived, on the bosom of the waters. I saw it--Where did I see it?--Was it
+not from the high peaks of Dunbarton, when I looked westward upon the
+fertile land, and northward on the wild Highland hills; when the clouds
+gathered and the tempest came, and the lightnings of heaven flashed in
+sheets as wide as the banners of an host?--What did I see?--Dead corpses
+and wounded horses, the rushing together of battle, and garments rolled
+in blood.--What heard I?--The voice that cried, Slay, slay--smite--slay
+utterly--let not your eye have pity! slay utterly, old and young, the
+maiden, the child, and the woman whose head is grey--Defile the house and
+fill the courts with the slain!”
+
+“We receive the command,” exclaimed more than one of the company. “Six
+days he hath not spoken nor broken bread, and now his tongue is
+unloosed:--We receive the command; as he hath said, so will we do.”
+
+Astonished, disgusted, and horror-struck, at what he had seen and heard,
+Morton turned away from the circle and left the cottage. He was followed
+by Burley, who had his eye on his motions.
+
+“Whither are you going?” said the latter, taking him by the arm.
+
+“Any where,--I care not whither; but here I will abide no longer.”
+
+“Art thou so soon weary, young man?” answered Burley. “Thy hand is but
+now put to the plough, and wouldst thou already abandon it? Is this thy
+adherence to the cause of thy father?”
+
+“No cause,” replied Morton, indignantly--“no cause can prosper, so
+conducted. One party declares for the ravings of a bloodthirsty madman;
+another leader is an old scholastic pedant; a third”--he stopped, and his
+companion continued the sentence--“Is a desperate homicide, thou wouldst
+say, like John Balfour of Burley?--I can bear thy misconstruction without
+resentment. Thou dost not consider, that it is not men of sober and
+self-seeking minds, who arise in these days of wrath to execute judgment
+and to accomplish deliverance. Hadst thou but seen the armies of England,
+during her Parliament of 1640, whose ranks were filled with sectaries and
+enthusiasts, wilder than the anabaptists of Munster, thou wouldst have
+had more cause to marvel; and yet these men were unconquered on the
+field, and their hands wrought marvellous things for the liberties of the
+land.”
+
+“But their affairs,” replied Morton, “were wisely conducted, and the
+violence of their zeal expended itself in their exhortations and sermons,
+without bringing divisions into their counsels, or cruelty into their
+conduct. I have often heard my father say so, and protest, that he
+wondered at nothing so much as the contrast between the extravagance of
+their religious tenets, and the wisdom and moderation with which they
+conducted their civil and military affairs. But our councils seem all one
+wild chaos of confusion.”
+
+“Thou must have patience, Henry Morton,” answered Balfour; “thou must not
+leave the cause of thy religion and country either for one wild word, or
+one extravagant action. Hear me. I have already persuaded the wiser of
+our friends, that the counsellors are too numerous, and that we cannot
+expect that the Midianites shall, by so large a number, be delivered into
+our hands. They have hearkened to my voice, and our assemblies will be
+shortly reduced within such a number as can consult and act together; and
+in them thou shalt have a free voice, as well as in ordering our affairs
+of war, and protecting those to whom mercy should be shown--Art thou now
+satisfied?”
+
+“It will give me pleasure, doubtless,” answered Morton, “to be the means
+of softening the horrors of civil war; and I will not leave the post I
+have taken, unless I see measures adopted at which my conscience revolts.
+But to no bloody executions after quarter asked, or slaughter without
+trial, will I lend countenance or sanction; and you may depend on my
+opposing them, with both heart and hand, as constantly and resolutely, if
+attempted by our own followers, as when they are the work of the enemy.”
+
+Balfour waved his hand impatiently.
+
+“Thou wilt find,” he said, “that the stubborn and hard-hearted generation
+with whom we deal, must be chastised with scorpions ere their hearts be
+humbled, and ere they accept the punishment of their iniquity. The word
+is gone forth against them, ‘I will bring a sword upon you that shall
+avenge the quarrel of my Covenant.’ But what is done shall be done
+gravely, and with discretion, like that of the worthy James Melvin, who
+executed judgment on the tyrant and oppressor, Cardinal Beaton.”
+
+“I own to you,” replied Morton, “that I feel still more abhorrent at
+cold-blooded and premeditated cruelty, than at that which is practised in
+the heat of zeal and resentment.”
+
+“Thou art yet but a youth,” replied Balfour, “and hast not learned how
+light in the balance are a few drops of blood in comparison to the weight
+and importance of this great national testimony. But be not afraid;
+thyself shall vote and judge in these matters; it may be we shall see
+little cause to strive together anent them.”
+
+With this concession Morton was compelled to be satisfied for the
+present; and Burley left him, advising him to lie down and get some rest,
+as the host would probably move in the morning.
+
+“And you,” answered Morton, “do not you go to rest also?”
+
+“No,” said Burley; “my eyes must not yet know slumber. This is no work to
+be done lightly; I have yet to perfect the choosing of the committee of
+leaders, and I will call you by times in the morning to be present at
+their consultation.”
+
+He turned away, and left Morton to his repose.
+
+The place in which he found himself was not ill adapted for the purpose,
+being a sheltered nook, beneath a large rock, well protected from the
+prevailing wind. A quantity of moss with which the ground was overspread,
+made a couch soft enough for one who had suffered so much hardship and
+anxiety. Morton wrapped himself in the horse-man’s cloak which he had
+still retained, stretched himself on the ground, and had not long
+indulged in melancholy reflections on the state of the country, and upon
+his own condition, ere he was relieved from them by deep and sound
+slumber.
+
+The rest of the army slept on the ground, dispersed in groups, which
+chose their beds on the fields as they could best find shelter and
+convenience. A few of the principal leaders held wakeful conference with
+Burley on the state of their affairs, and some watchmen were appointed
+who kept themselves on the alert by chanting psalms, or listening to the
+exercises of the more gifted of their number.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+               Got with much ease--now merrily to horse.
+                                             Henry IV. Part I.
+
+With the first peep of day Henry awoke, and found the faithful Cuddie
+standing beside him with a portmanteau in his hand.
+
+“I hae been just putting your honour’s things in readiness again ye were
+waking,” said Cuddie, “as is my duty, seeing ye hae been sae gude as to
+tak me into your service.”
+
+“I take you into my service, Cuddie?” said Morton, “you must be
+dreaming.”
+
+“Na, na, stir,” answered Cuddie; “didna I say when I was tied on the
+horse yonder, that if ever ye gat loose I would be your servant, and ye
+didna say no? and if that isna hiring, I kenna what is. Ye gae me nae
+arles, indeed, but ye had gien me eneugh before at Milnwood.”
+
+“Well, Cuddie, if you insist on taking the chance of my unprosperous
+fortunes”--
+
+“Ou ay, I’se warrant us a’ prosper weel eneugh,” answered Cuddie,
+cheeringly, “an anes my auld mither was weel putten up. I hae begun the
+campaigning trade at an end that is easy eneugh to learn.”
+
+“Pillaging, I suppose?” said Morton, “for how else could you come by that
+portmanteau?”
+
+“I wotna if it’s pillaging, or how ye ca’t,” said Cuddie, “but it comes
+natural to a body, and it’s a profitable trade. Our folk had tirled the
+dead dragoons as bare as bawbees before we were loose amaist.--But when I
+saw the Whigs a’ weel yokit by the lugs to Kettledrummle and the other
+chield, I set off at the lang trot on my ain errand and your honour’s.
+Sae I took up the syke a wee bit, away to the right, where I saw the
+marks o’mony a horsefoot, and sure eneugh I cam to a place where there
+had been some clean leatherin’, and a’ the puir chields were lying there
+buskit wi’ their claes just as they had put them on that morning--naebody
+had found out that pose o’ carcages--and wha suld be in the midst thereof
+(as my mither says) but our auld acquaintance, Sergeant Bothwell?”
+
+“Ay, has that man fallen?” said Morton.
+
+“Troth has he,” answered Cuddie; “and his een were open and his brow
+bent, and his teeth clenched thegither, like the jaws of a trap for
+foumarts when the spring’s doun--I was amaist feared to look at him;
+however, I thought to hae turn about wi’ him, and sae I e’en riped his
+pouches, as he had dune mony an honester man’s; and here’s your ain
+siller again (or your uncle’s, which is the same) that he got at Milnwood
+that unlucky night that made us a’ sodgers thegither.”
+
+“There can be no harm, Cuddie,” said Morton, “in making use of this
+money, since we know how he came by it; but you must divide with me.”
+
+“Bide a wee, bide a wee,” said Cuddie. “Weel, and there’s a bit ring he
+had hinging in a black ribbon doun on his breast. I am thinking it has
+been a love-token, puir fallow--there’s naebody sae rough but they hae
+aye a kind heart to the lasses--and there’s a book wi’a wheen papers, and
+I got twa or three odd things, that I’ll keep to mysell, forby.”
+
+“Upon my word, you have made a very successful foray for a beginner,”
+ said his new master.
+
+“Haena I e’en now?” said Cuddie, with great exultation. “I tauld ye I
+wasna that dooms stupid, if it cam to lifting things.--And forby, I hae
+gotten twa gude horse. A feckless loon of a Straven weaver, that has left
+his loom and his bein house to sit skirling on a cauld hill-side, had
+catched twa dragoon naigs, and he could neither gar them hup nor wind,
+sae he took a gowd noble for them baith--I suld hae tried him wi’ half
+the siller, but it’s an unco ill place to get change in--Ye’ll find the
+siller’s missing out o’ Bothwell’s purse.”
+
+“You have made a most excellent and useful purchase, Cuddie; but what is
+that portmanteau?”
+
+“The pockmantle?” answered Cuddie, “it was Lord Evandale’s yesterday, and
+it’s yours the day. I fand it ahint the bush o’ broom yonder--ilka dog
+has its day--Ye ken what the auld sang says,
+
+          ‘Take turn about, mither, quo’ Tam o’ the Linn.’
+
+“And, speaking o’ that, I maun gang and see about my mither, puir auld
+body, if your honour hasna ony immediate commands.”
+
+“But, Cuddie,” said Morton, “I really cannot take these things from you
+without some recompense.”
+
+“Hout fie, stir,” answered Cuddie, “ye suld aye be taking,--for
+recompense, ye may think about that some other time--I hae seen gay weel
+to mysell wi’ some things that fit me better. What could I do wi’ Lord
+Evandale’s braw claes? Sergeant Bothwell’s will serve me weel eneugh.”
+
+Not being able to prevail on the self-constituted and disinterested
+follower to accept of any thing for himself out of these warlike spoils,
+Morton resolved to take the first opportunity of returning Lord
+Evandale’s property, supposing him yet to be alive; and, in the
+meanwhile, did not hesitate to avail himself of Cuddie’s prize, so far as
+to appropriate some changes of linen and other triffling articles amongst
+those of more value which the portmanteau contained.
+
+He then hastily looked over the papers which were found in Bothwell’s
+pocket-book. These were of a miscellaneous description. The roll of his
+troop, with the names of those absent on furlough, memorandums of
+tavern-bills, and lists of delinquents who might be made subjects of fine
+and persecution, first presented themselves, along with a copy of a
+warrant from the Privy Council to arrest certain persons of distinction
+therein named. In another pocket of the book were one or two commissions
+which Bothwell had held at different times, and certificates of his
+services abroad, in which his courage and military talents were highly
+praised. But the most remarkable paper was an accurate account of his
+genealogy, with reference to many documents for establishment of its
+authenticity; subjoined was a list of the ample possessions of the
+forfeited Earls of Bothwell, and a particular account of the proportions
+in which King James VI. had bestowed them on the courtiers and nobility
+by whose descendants they were at present actually possessed; beneath
+this list was written, in red letters, in the hand of the deceased, Haud
+Immemor, F. S. E. B. the initials probably intimating Francis Stewart,
+Earl of Bothwell. To these documents, which strongly painted the
+character and feelings of their deceased proprietor, were added some
+which showed him in a light greatly different from that in which we have
+hitherto presented him to the reader.
+
+In a secret pocket of the book, which Morton did not discover without
+some trouble, were one or two letters, written in a beautiful female
+hand. They were dated about twenty years back, bore no address, and were
+subscribed only by initials. Without having time to peruse them
+accurately, Morton perceived that they contained the elegant yet fond
+expressions of female affection directed towards an object whose jealousy
+they endeavoured to soothe, and of whose hasty, suspicious, and impatient
+temper, the writer seemed gently to complain. The ink of these
+manuscripts had faded by time, and, notwithstanding the great care which
+had obviously been taken for their preservation, they were in one or two
+places chafed so as to be illegible.
+
+“It matters not,” these words were written on the envelope of that which
+had suffered most, “I have them by heart.”
+
+With these letters was a lock of hair wrapped in a copy of verses,
+written obviously with a feeling, which atoned, in Morton’s opinion, for
+the roughness of the poetry, and the conceits with which it abounded,
+according to the taste of the period:
+
+Thy hue, dear pledge, is pure and bright, As in that well-remember’d
+night, When first thy mystic braid was wove, And first my Agnes whisper’d
+love. Since then, how often hast thou press’d The torrid zone of this
+wild breast, Whose wrath and hate have sworn to dwell With the first sin
+which peopled hell; A breast whose blood’s a troubled ocean, Each throb
+the earthquake’s wild commotion!--O, if such clime thou canst endure, Yet
+keep thy hue unstain’d and pure, What conquest o’er each erring thought
+Of that fierce realm had Agnes wrought! I had not wander’d wild and wide,
+With such an angel for my guide; Nor heaven nor earth could then reprove
+me, If she had lived, and lived to love me. Not then this world’s wild
+joys had been To me one savage hunting-scene, My sole delight the
+headlong race, And frantic hurry of the chase, To start, pursue, and
+bring to bay, Rush in, drag down, and rend my prey, Then from the carcass
+turn away; Mine ireful mood had sweetness tamed, And soothed each wound
+which pride inflamed;--Yes, God and man might now approve me, If thou
+hadst lived, and lived to love me!
+
+As he finished reading these lines, Morton could not forbear reflecting
+with compassion on the fate of this singular and most unhappy being, who,
+it appeared, while in the lowest state of degradation, and almost of
+contempt, had his recollections continually fixed on the high station to
+which his birth seemed to entitle him; and, while plunged in gross
+licentiousness, was in secret looking back with bitter remorse to the
+period of his youth, during which he had nourished a virtuous, though
+unfortunate attachment.
+
+“Alas! what are we,” said Morton, “that our best and most praiseworthy
+feelings can be thus debased and depraved--that honourable pride can sink
+into haughty and desperate indifference for general opinion, and the
+sorrow of blighted affection inhabit the same bosom which license,
+revenge, and rapine, have chosen for their citadel? But it is the same
+throughout; the liberal principles of one man sink into cold and
+unfeeling indifference, the religious zeal of another hurries him into
+frantic and savage enthusiasm. Our resolutions, our passions, are like
+the waves of the sea, and, without the aid of Him who formed the human
+breast, we cannot say to its tides, ‘Thus far shall ye come, and no
+farther.’”
+
+While he thus moralized, he raised his eyes, and observed that Burley
+stood before him.
+
+“Already awake?” said that leader--“It is well, and shows zeal to tread
+the path before you.--What papers are these?” he continued.
+
+Morton gave him some brief account of Cuddie’s successful marauding
+party, and handed him the pocket-book of Bothwell, with its contents. The
+Cameronian leader looked with some attention on such of the papers as
+related to military affairs, or public business; but when he came to the
+verses, he threw them from him with contempt.
+
+“I little thought,” he said, “when, by the blessing of God, I passed my
+sword three times through the body of that arch tool of cruelty and
+persecution, that a character so desperate and so dangerous could have
+stooped to an art as trifling as it is profane. But I see that Satan can
+blend the most different qualities in his well-beloved and chosen agents,
+and that the same hand which can wield a club or a slaughter-weapon
+against the godly in the valley of destruction, can touch a tinkling
+lute, or a gittern, to soothe the ears of the dancing daughters of
+perdition in their Vanity Fair.”
+
+“Your ideas of duty, then,” said Morton, “exclude love of the fine arts,
+which have been supposed in general to purify and to elevate the mind?”
+
+“To me, young man,” answered Burley, “and to those who think as I do, the
+pleasures of this world, under whatever name disguised, are vanity, as
+its grandeur and power are a snare. We have but one object on earth, and
+that is to build up the temple of the Lord.”
+
+“I have heard my father observe,” replied Morton, “that many who assumed
+power in the name of Heaven, were as severe in its exercise, and as
+unwilling to part with it, as if they had been solely moved by the
+motives of worldly ambition--But of this another time. Have you succeeded
+in obtaining a committee of the council to be nominated?”
+
+“I have,” answered Burley. “The number is limited to six, of which you
+are one, and I come to call you to their deliberations.”
+
+Morton accompanied him to a sequestered grassplot, where their colleagues
+awaited them. In this delegation of authority, the two principal factions
+which divided the tumultuary army had each taken care to send three of
+their own number. On the part of the Cameronians, were Burley, Macbriar,
+and Kettledrummle; and on that of the moderate party, Poundtext, Henry
+Morton, and a small proprietor, called the Laird of Langcale. Thus the
+two parties were equally balanced by their representatives in the
+committee of management, although it seemed likely that those of the most
+violent opinions were, as is usual in such cases, to possess and exert
+the greater degree of energy. Their debate, however, was conducted more
+like men of this world than could have been expected from their conduct
+on the preceding evening. After maturely considering their means and
+situation, and the probable increase of their numbers, they agreed that
+they would keep their position for that day, in order to refresh their
+men, and give time to reinforcements to join them, and that, on the next
+morning, they would direct their march towards Tillietudlem, and summon
+that stronghold, as they expressed it, of malignancy. If it was not
+surrendered to their summons, they resolved to try the effect of a brisk
+assault; and, should that miscarry, it was settled that they should leave
+a part of their number to blockade the place, and reduce it, if possible,
+by famine, while their main body should march forward to drive
+Claverhouse and Lord Ross from the town of Glasgow. Such was the
+determination of the council of management; and thus Morton’s first
+enterprise in active life was likely to be the attack of a castle
+belonging to the parent of his mistress, and defended by her relative,
+Major Bellenden, to whom he personally owed many obligations! He felt
+fully the embarrassment of his situation, yet consoled himself with the
+reflection, that his newly-acquired power in the insurgent army would
+give him, at all events, the means of extending to the inmates of
+Tillietudlem a protection which no other circumstance could have afforded
+them; and he was not without hope that he might be able to mediate such
+an accommodation betwixt them and the presbyterian army, as should secure
+them a safe neutrality during the war which was about to ensue.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+               There came a knight from the field of slain,
+               His steed was drench’d in blood and rain.
+                                             Finlay.
+
+We must now return to the fortress of Tillietudlem and its inhabitants.
+The morning, being the first after the battle of Loudon-hill, had dawned
+upon its battlements, and the defenders had already resumed the labours
+by which they proposed to render the place tenable, when the watchman,
+who was placed in a high turret, called the Warder’s Tower, gave the
+signal that a horseman was approaching. As he came nearer, his dress
+indicated an officer of the Life-Guards; and the slowness of his horse’s
+pace, as well as the manner in which the rider stooped on the saddle-bow,
+plainly showed that he was sick or wounded. The wicket was instantly
+opened to receive him, and Lord Evandale rode into the court-yard, so
+reduced by loss of blood, that he was unable to dismount without
+assistance. As he entered the hall, leaning upon a servant, the ladies
+shrieked with surprise and terror; for, pale as death, stained with
+blood, his regimentals soiled and torn, and his hair matted and
+disordered, he resembled rather a spectre than a human being. But their
+next exclamation was that of joy at his escape.
+
+“Thank God!” exclaimed Lady Margaret, “that you are here, and have
+escaped the hands of the bloodthirsty murderers who have cut off so many
+of the king’s loyal servants!”
+
+“Thank God!” added Edith, “that you are here and in safety! We have
+dreaded the worst. But you are wounded, and I fear we have little the
+means of assisting you.”
+
+“My wounds are only sword-cuts,” answered the young nobleman, as he
+reposed himself on a seat; “the pain is not worth mentioning, and I
+should not even feel exhausted but for the loss of blood. But it was not
+my purpose to bring my weakness to add to your danger and distress, but
+to relieve them, if possible. What can I do for you?--Permit me,” he
+added, addressing Lady Margaret--“permit me to think and act as your son,
+my dear madam--as your brother, Edith!”
+
+He pronounced the last part of the sentence with some emphasis, as if he
+feared that the apprehension of his pretensions as a suitor might render
+his proffered services unacceptable to Miss Bellenden. She was not
+insensible to his delicacy, but there was no time for exchange of
+sentiments.
+
+“We are preparing for our defence,” said the old lady with great dignity;
+“my brother has taken charge of our garrison, and, by the grace of God,
+we will give the rebels such a reception as they deserve.”
+
+“How gladly,” said Evandale, “would I share in the defence of the Castle!
+But in my present state, I should be but a burden to you, nay, something
+worse; for, the knowledge that an officer of the Life-Guards was in the
+Castle would be sufficient to make these rogues more desperately earnest
+to possess themselves of it. If they find it defended only by the family,
+they may possibly march on to Glasgow rather than hazard an assault.”
+
+“And can you think so meanly of us, my lord,” said Edith, with the
+generous burst of feeling which woman so often evinces, and which becomes
+her so well, her voice faltering through eagerness, and her brow
+colouring with the noble warmth which dictated her language--“Can you
+think so meanly of your friends, as that they would permit such
+considerations to interfere with their sheltering and protecting you at a
+moment when you are unable to defend yourself, and when the whole country
+is filled with the enemy? Is there a cottage in Scotland whose owners
+would permit a valued friend to leave it in such circumstances? And can
+you think we will allow you to go from a castle which we hold to be
+strong enough for our own defence?”
+
+“Lord Evandale need never think of it,” said Lady Margaret. “I will dress
+his wounds myself; it is all an old wife is fit for in war time; but to
+quit the Castle of Tillietudlem when the sword of the enemy is drawn to
+slay him,--the meanest trooper that ever wore the king’s coat on his back
+should not do so, much less my young Lord Evandale.--Ours is not a house
+that ought to brook such dishonour. The tower of Tillietudlem has been
+too much distinguished by the visit of his most sacred”--
+
+Here she was interrupted by the entrance of the Major.
+
+“We have taken a prisoner, my dear uncle,” said Edith--“a wounded
+prisoner, and he wants to escape from us. You must help us to keep him by
+force.”
+
+“Lord Evandale!” exclaimed the veteran. “I am as much pleased as when I
+got my first commission. Claverhouse reported you were killed, or missing
+at least.”
+
+“I should have been slain, but for a friend of yours,” said Lord
+Evandale, speaking with some emotion, and bending his eyes on the ground,
+as if he wished to avoid seeing the impression that what he was about to
+say would make upon Miss Bellenden. “I was unhorsed and defenceless, and
+the sword raised to dispatch me, when young Mr Morton, the prisoner for
+whom you interested yourself yesterday morning, interposed in the most
+generous manner, preserved my life, and furnished me with the means of
+escaping.”
+
+As he ended the sentence, a painful curiosity overcame his first
+resolution; he raised his eyes to Edith’s face, and imagined he could
+read in the glow of her cheek and the sparkle of her eye, joy at hearing
+of her lover’s safety and freedom, and triumph at his not having been
+left last in the race of generosity. Such, indeed, were her feelings; but
+they were also mingled with admiration of the ready frankness with which
+Lord Evandale had hastened to bear witness to the merit of a favoured
+rival, and to acknowledge an obligation which, in all probability, he
+would rather have owed to any other individual in the world.
+
+Major Bellenden, who would never have observed the emotions of either
+party, even had they been much more markedly expressed, contented himself
+with saying, “Since Henry Morton has influence with these rascals, I am
+glad he has so exerted it; but I hope he will get clear of them as soon
+as he can. Indeed, I cannot doubt it. I know his principles, and that he
+detests their cant and hypocrisy. I have heard him laugh a thousand times
+at the pedantry of that old presbyterian scoundrel, Poundtext, who, after
+enjoying the indulgence of the government for so many years, has now,
+upon the very first ruffle, shown himself in his own proper colours, and
+set off, with three parts of his cropeared congregation, to join the host
+of the fanatics.--But how did you escape after leaving the field, my
+lord?”
+
+“I rode for my life, as a recreant knight must,” answered Lord Evandale,
+smiling. “I took the route where I thought I had least chance of meeting
+with any of the enemy, and I found shelter for several hours--you will
+hardly guess where.”
+
+“At Castle Bracklan, perhaps,” said Lady Margaret, “or in the house of
+some other loyal gentleman?”
+
+“No, madam. I was repulsed, under one mean pretext or another, from more
+than one house of that description, for fear of the enemy following my
+traces; but I found refuge in the cottage of a poor widow, whose husband
+had been shot within these three months by a party of our corps, and
+whose two sons are at this very moment with the insurgents.”
+
+“Indeed?” said Lady Margaret Bellenden; “and was a fanatic woman capable
+of such generosity?--but she disapproved, I suppose, of the tenets of her
+family?”
+
+“Far from it, madam,” continued the young nobleman; “she was in principle
+a rigid recusant, but she saw my danger and distress, considered me as a
+fellow-creature, and forgot that I was a cavalier and a soldier. She
+bound my wounds, and permitted me to rest upon her bed, concealed me from
+a party of the insurgents who were seeking for stragglers, supplied me
+with food, and did not suffer me to leave my place of refuge until she
+had learned that I had every chance of getting to this tower without
+danger.”
+
+“It was nobly done,” said Miss Bellenden; “and I trust you will have an
+opportunity of rewarding her generosity.”
+
+“I am running up an arrear of obligation on all sides, Miss Bellenden,
+during these unfortunate occurrences,” replied Lord Evandale; “but when I
+can attain the means of showing my gratitude, the will shall not be
+wanting.”
+
+All now joined in pressing Lord Evandale to relinquish his intention of
+leaving the Castle; but the argument of Major Bellenden proved the most
+effectual.
+
+“Your presence in the Castle will be most useful, if not absolutely
+necessary, my lord, in order to maintain, by your authority, proper
+discipline among the fellows whom Claverhouse has left in garrison here,
+and who do not prove to be of the most orderly description of inmates;
+and, indeed, we have the Colonel’s authority, for that very purpose, to
+detain any officer of his regiment who might pass this way.”
+
+“That,” said Lord Evandale, “is an unanswerable argument, since it shows
+me that my residence here may be useful, even in my present disabled
+state.”
+
+“For your wounds, my lord,” said the Major, “if my sister, Lady
+Bellenden, will undertake to give battle to any feverish symptom, if such
+should appear, I will answer that my old campaigner, Gideon Pike, shall
+dress a flesh-wound with any of the incorporation of Barber-Surgeons. He
+had enough of practice in Montrose’s time, for we had few regularly-bred
+army chirurgeons, as you may well suppose.--You agree to stay with us,
+then?”
+
+“My reasons for leaving the Castle,” said Lord Evandale, glancing a look
+towards Edith, “though they evidently seemed weighty, must needs give way
+to those which infer the power of serving you. May I presume, Major, to
+enquire into the means and plan of defence which you have prepared? or
+can I attend you to examine the works?”
+
+It did not escape Miss Bellenden, that Lord Evandale seemed much
+exhausted both in body and mind. “I think, sir,” she said, addressing the
+Major, “that since Lord Evandale condescends to become an officer of our
+garrison, you should begin by rendering him amenable to your authority,
+and ordering him to his apartment, that he may take some refreshment ere
+he enters on military discussions.”
+
+“Edith is right,” said the old lady; “you must go instantly to bed, my
+lord, and take some febrifuge, which I will prepare with my own hand; and
+my lady-in-waiting, Mistress Martha Weddell, shall make some friar’s
+chicken, or something very light. I would not advise wine.--John Gudyill,
+let the housekeeper make ready the chamber of dais. Lord Evandale must
+lie down instantly. Pike will take off the dressings, and examine the
+state of the wounds.”
+
+“These are melancholy preparations, madam,” said Lord Evandale, as he
+returned thanks to Lady Margaret, and was about to leave the hall,--“but
+I must submit to your ladyship’s directions; and I trust that your skill
+will soon make me a more able defender of your castle than I am at
+present. You must render my body serviceable as soon as you can, for you
+have no use for my head while you have Major Bellenden.”
+
+With these words he left the apartment.
+
+“An excellent young man, and a modest,” said the Major.
+
+“None of that conceit,” said Lady Margaret, “that often makes young folk
+suppose they know better how their complaints should be treated than
+people that have had experience.”
+
+“And so generous and handsome a young nobleman,” said Jenny Dennison, who
+had entered during the latter part of this conversation, and was now left
+alone with her mistress in the hall, the Major returning to his military
+cares, and Lady Margaret to her medical preparations.
+
+Edith only answered these encomiums with a sigh; but, although silent,
+she felt and knew better than any one how much they were merited by the
+person on whom they were bestowed. Jenny, however, failed not to follow
+up her blow.
+
+“After a’, it’s true that my lady says--there’s nae trusting a
+presbyterian; they are a’ faithless man-sworn louns. Whae wad hae thought
+that young Milnwood and Cuddie Headrigg wad hae taen on wi’ thae rebel
+blackguards?”
+
+“What do you mean by such improbable nonsense, Jenny?” said her young
+mistress, very much displeased.
+
+“I ken it’s no pleasing for you to hear, madam,” answered Jenny hardily;
+“and it’s as little pleasant for me to tell; but as gude ye suld ken a’
+about it sune as syne, for the haill Castle’s ringing wi’t.”
+
+“Ringing with what, Jenny? Have you a mind to drive me mad?” answered
+Edith, impatiently.
+
+“Just that Henry Morton of Milnwood is out wi’ the rebels, and ane o’
+their chief leaders.”
+
+“It is a falsehood!” said Edith--“a most base calumny! and you are very
+bold to dare to repeat it to me. Henry Morton is incapable of such
+treachery to his king and country--such cruelty to me--to--to all the
+innocent and defenceless victims, I mean, who must suffer in a civil
+war--I tell you he is utterly incapable of it, in every sense.”
+
+“Dear! dear! Miss Edith,” replied Jenny, still constant to her text,
+“they maun be better acquainted wi’ young men than I am, or ever wish to
+be, that can tell preceesely what they’re capable or no capable o’. But
+there has been Trooper Tam, and another chield, out in bonnets and grey
+plaids, like countrymen, to recon--reconnoitre--I think John Gudyill ca’d
+it; and they hae been amang the rebels, and brought back word that they
+had seen young Milnwood mounted on ane o’ the dragoon horses that was
+taen at Loudon-hill, armed wi’ swords and pistols, like wha but him, and
+hand and glove wi’ the foremost o’ them, and dreeling and commanding the
+men; and Cuddie at the heels o’ him, in ane o’ Sergeant Bothwell’s laced
+waistcoats, and a cockit hat with a bab o’ blue ribbands at it for the
+auld cause o’ the Covenant, (but Cuddie aye liked a blue ribband,) and a
+ruffled sark, like ony lord o’ the land--it sets the like o’ him,
+indeed!”
+
+“Jenny,” said her young mistress hastily, “it is impossible these men’s
+report can be true; my uncle has heard nothing of it at this instant.”
+
+“Because Tam Halliday,” answered the handmaiden, “came in just five
+minutes after Lord Evandale; and when he heard his lordship was in the
+Castle, he swore (the profane loon!) he would be d--d ere he would make
+the report, as he ca’d it, of his news to Major Bellenden, since there
+was an officer of his ain regiment in the garrison. Sae he wad have said
+naething till Lord Evandale wakened the next morning; only he tauld me
+about it,” (here Jenny looked a little down,) “just to vex me about
+Cuddie.”
+
+“Poh, you silly girl,” said Edith, assuming some courage, “it is all a
+trick of that fellow to teaze you.”
+
+“Na, madam, it canna be that, for John Gudyill took the other dragoon
+(he’s an auld hard-favoured man, I wotna his name) into the cellar, and
+gae him a tass o’ brandy to get the news out o’ him, and he said just the
+same as Tam Halliday, word for word; and Mr Gudyill was in sic a rage,
+that he tauld it a’ ower again to us, and says the haill rebellion is
+owing to the nonsense o’ my Leddy and the Major, and Lord Evandale, that
+begged off young Milnwood and Cuddie yesterday morning, for that, if they
+had suffered, the country wad hae been quiet--and troth I am muckle o’
+that opinion mysell.”
+
+This last commentary Jenny added to her tale, in resentment of her
+mistress’s extreme and obstinate incredulity. She was instantly alarmed,
+however, by the effect which her news produced upon her young lady, an
+effect rendered doubly violent by the High-church principles and
+prejudices in which Miss Bellenden had been educated. Her complexion
+became as pale as a corpse, her respiration so difficult that it was on
+the point of altogether failing her, and her limbs so incapable of
+supporting her, that she sunk, rather than sat, down upon one of the
+seats in the hall, and seemed on the eve of fainting. Jenny tried cold
+water, burnt feathers, cutting of laces, and all other remedies usual in
+hysterical cases, but without any immediate effect.
+
+“God forgie me! what hae I done?” said the repentant fille-de-chambre. “I
+wish my tongue had been cuttit out!--Wha wad hae thought o’ her taking on
+that way, and a’ for a young lad?--O, Miss Edith--dear Miss Edith, haud
+your heart up about it, it’s maybe no true for a’ that I hae said--O, I
+wish my mouth had been blistered! A’ body tells me my tongue will do me a
+mischief some day. What if my Leddy comes? or the Major?--and she’s
+sitting in the throne, too, that naebody has sate in since that weary
+morning the King was here!--O, what will I do! O, what will become o’
+us!”
+
+While Jenny Dennison thus lamented herself and her mistress, Edith slowly
+returned from the paroxysm into which she had been thrown by this
+unexpected intelligence.
+
+“If he had been unfortunate,” she said, “I never would have deserted him.
+I never did so, even when there was danger and disgrace in pleading his
+cause. If he had died, I would have mourned him--if he had been
+unfaithful, I would have forgiven him; but a rebel to his King,--a
+traitor to his country,--the associate and colleague of cut-throats and
+common stabbers,--the persecutor of all that is noble,--the professed and
+blasphemous enemy of all that is sacred,--I will tear him from my heart,
+if my life-blood should ebb in the effort!”
+
+She wiped her eyes, and rose hastily from the great chair, (or throne, as
+Lady Margaret used to call it,) while the terrified damsel hastened to
+shake up the cushion, and efface the appearance of any one having
+occupied that sacred seat; although King Charles himself, considering the
+youth and beauty as well as the affliction of the momentary usurper of
+his hallowed chair, would probably have thought very little of the
+profanation. She then hastened officiously to press her support on Edith,
+as she paced the hall apparently in deep meditation.
+
+“Tak my arm, madam; better just tak my arm; sorrow maun hae its vent, and
+doubtless”--
+
+“No, Jenny,” said Edith, with firmness; “you have seen my weakness, and
+you shall see my strength.”
+
+“But ye leaned on me the other morning. Miss Edith, when ye were sae sair
+grieved.”
+
+“Misplaced and erring affection may require support, Jenny--duty can
+support itself; yet I will do nothing rashly. I will be aware of the
+reasons of his conduct--and then--cast him off for ever,” was the firm
+and determined answer of her young lady.
+
+Overawed by a manner of which she could neither conceive the motive, nor
+estimate the merit, Jenny muttered between her teeth, “Odd, when the
+first flight’s ower, Miss Edith taks it as easy as I do, and muckle
+easier, and I’m sure I ne’er cared half sae muckle about Cuddie Headrigg
+as she did about young Milnwood. Forby that, it’s maybe as weel to hae a
+friend on baith sides; for, if the whigs suld come to tak the Castle, as
+it’s like they may, when there’s sae little victual, and the dragoons
+wasting what’s o’t, ou, in that case, Milnwood and Cuddie wad hae the
+upper hand, and their freendship wad be worth siller--I was thinking sae
+this morning or I heard the news.”
+
+With this consolatory reflection the damsel went about her usual
+occupations, leaving her mistress to school her mind as she best might,
+for eradicating the sentiments which she had hitherto entertained towards
+Henry Morton.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+          Once more into the breach--dear friends, once more!
+                                                  Henry V.
+
+On the evening of this day, all the information which they could procure
+led them to expect, that the insurgent army would be with early dawn on
+their march against Tillietudlem. Lord Evandale’s wounds had been
+examined by Pike, who reported them in a very promising state. They were
+numerous, but none of any consequence; and the loss of blood, as much
+perhaps as the boasted specific of Lady Margaret, had prevented any
+tendency to fever; so that, notwithstanding he felt some pain and great
+weakness, the patient maintained that he was able to creep about with the
+assistance of a stick. In these circumstances he refused to be confined
+to his apartment, both that he might encourage the soldiers by his
+presence, and suggest any necessary addition to the plan of defence,
+which the Major might be supposed to have arranged upon something of an
+antiquated fashion of warfare. Lord Evandale was well qualified to give
+advice on such subjects, having served, during his early youth, both in
+France and in the Low Countries. There was little or no occasion,
+however, for altering the preparations already made; and, excepting on
+the article of provisions, there seemed no reason to fear for the defence
+of so strong a place against such assailants as those by whom it was
+threatened.
+
+With the peep of day, Lord Evandale and Major Bellenden were on the
+battlements again, viewing and re-viewing the state of their
+preparations, and anxiously expecting the approach of the enemy. I ought
+to observe, that the report of the spies had now been regularly made and
+received; but the Major treated the report that Morton was in arms
+against the government with the most scornful incredulity.
+
+“I know the lad better,” was the only reply he deigned to make; “the
+fellows have not dared to venture near enough, and have been deceived by
+some fanciful resemblance, or have picked up some story.”
+
+“I differ from you, Major,” answered Lord Evandale; “I think you will see
+that young gentleman at the head of the insurgents; and, though I shall
+be heartily sorry for it, I shall not be greatly surprised.”
+
+“You are as bad as Claverhouse,” said the Major, “who contended yesterday
+morning down my very throat, that this young fellow, who is as
+high-spirited and gentleman-like a boy as I have ever known, wanted but
+an opportunity to place himself at the head of the rebels.”
+
+“And considering the usage which he has received, and the suspicions
+under which he lies,” said Lord Evandale, “what other course is open to
+him? For my own part, I should hardly know whether he deserved most blame
+or pity.”
+
+“Blame, my lord?--Pity!” echoed the Major, astonished at hearing such
+sentiments; “he would deserve to be hanged, that’s all; and, were he my
+own son, I should see him strung up with pleasure--Blame, indeed! But
+your lordship cannot think as you are pleased to speak?”
+
+“I give you my honour, Major Bellenden, that I have been for some time of
+opinion, that our politicians and prelates have driven matters to a
+painful extremity in this country, and have alienated, by violence of
+various kinds, not only the lower classes, but all those in the upper
+ranks, whom strong party-feeling, or a desire of court-interest, does not
+attach to their standard.”
+
+“I am no politician,” answered the Major, “and I do not understand nice
+distinctions. My sword is the King’s, and when he commands, I draw it in
+his cause.”
+
+“I trust,” replied the young lord, “you will not find me more backward
+than yourself, though I heartily wish that the enemy were foreigners. It
+is, however, no time to debate that matter, for yonder they come, and we
+must defend ourselves as well as we can.”
+
+As Lord Evandale spoke, the van of the insurgents began to make their
+appearance on the road which crossed the top of the hill, and thence
+descended opposite to the Tower. They did not, however, move downwards,
+as if aware that, in doing so, their columns would be exposed to the fire
+of the artillery of the place. But their numbers, which at first seemed
+few, appeared presently so to deepen and concentrate themselves, that,
+judging of the masses which occupied the road behind the hill from the
+closeness of the front which they presented on the top of it, their force
+appeared very considerable. There was a pause of anxiety on both sides;
+and, while the unsteady ranks of the Covenanters were agitated, as if by
+pressure behind, or uncertainty as to their next movement, their arms,
+picturesque from their variety, glanced in the morning sun, whose beams
+were reflected from a grove of pikes, muskets, halberds, and battle-axes.
+The armed mass occupied, for a few minutes, this fluctuating position,
+until three or four horsemen, who seemed to be leaders, advanced from the
+front, and occupied the height a little nearer to the Castle. John
+Gudyill, who was not without some skill as an artilleryman, brought a gun
+to bear on this detached group.
+
+“I’ll flee the falcon,”--(so the small cannon was called,)--“I’ll flee
+the falcon whene’er your honour gies command; my certie, she’ll ruffle
+their feathers for them!”
+
+The Major looked at Lord Evandale.
+
+“Stay a moment,” said the young nobleman, “they send us a flag of truce.”
+
+In fact, one of the horsemen at that moment dismounted, and, displaying a
+white cloth on a pike, moved forward towards the Tower, while the Major
+and Lord Evandale, descending from the battlement of the main fortress,
+advanced to meet him as far as the barricade, judging it unwise to admit
+him within the precincts which they designed to defend. At the same time
+that the ambassador set forth, the group of horsemen, as if they had
+anticipated the preparations of John Gudyill for their annoyance,
+withdrew from the advanced station which they had occupied, and fell back
+to the main body.
+
+The envoy of the Covenanters, to judge by his mien and manner, seemed
+fully imbued with that spiritual pride which distinguished his sect. His
+features were drawn up to a contemptuous primness, and his half-shut eyes
+seemed to scorn to look upon the terrestial objects around, while, at
+every solemn stride, his toes were pointed outwards with an air that
+appeared to despise the ground on which they trode. Lord Evandale could
+not suppress a smile at this singular figure.
+
+“Did you ever,” said he to Major Bellenden, “see such an absurd
+automaton? One would swear it moves upon springs--Can it speak, think
+you?”
+
+“O, ay,” said the Major; “that seems to be one of my old acquaintance, a
+genuine puritan of the right pharisaical leaven.--Stay--he coughs and
+hems; he is about to summon the Castle with the but-end of a sermon,
+instead of a parley on the trumpet.”
+
+The veteran, who in his day had had many an opportunity to become
+acquainted with the manners of these religionists, was not far mistaken
+in his conjecture; only that, instead of a prose exordium, the Laird of
+Langcale--for it was no less a personage--uplifted, with a Stentorian
+voice, a verse of the twenty-fourth Psalm:
+
+“Ye gates lift up your heads! ye doors, Doors that do last for aye, Be
+lifted up”--
+
+“I told you so,” said the Major to Evandale, and then presented himself
+at the entrance of the barricade, demanding to know for what purpose or
+intent he made that doleful noise, like a hog in a high wind, beneath the
+gates of the Castle.
+
+“I come,” replied the ambassador, in a high and shrill voice, and without
+any of the usual salutations or deferences,--“I come from the godly army
+of the Solemn League and Covenant, to speak with two carnal malignants,
+William Maxwell, called Lord Evandale, and Miles Bellenden of Charnwood.”
+
+“And what have you to say to Miles Bellenden and Lord Evandale?” answered
+the Major.
+
+“Are you the parties?” said the Laird of Langcale, in the same sharp,
+conceited, disrespectful tone of voice.
+
+“Even so, for fault of better,” said the Major.
+
+“Then there is the public summons,” said the envoy, putting a paper into
+Lord Evandale’s hand, “and there is a private letter for Miles Bellenden
+from a godly youth, who is honoured with leading a part of our host. Read
+them quickly, and God give you grace to fructify by the contents, though
+it is muckle to be doubted.”
+
+The summons ran thus: “We, the named and constituted leaders of the
+gentlemen, ministers, and others, presently in arms for the cause of
+liberty and true religion, do warn and summon William Lord Evandale and
+Miles Bellenden of Charnwood, and others presently in arms, and keeping
+garrison in the Tower of Tillietudlem, to surrender the said Tower upon
+fair conditions of quarter, and license to depart with bag and baggage,
+otherwise to suffer such extremity of fire and sword as belong by the
+laws of war to those who hold out an untenable post. And so may God
+defend his own good cause!”
+
+This summons was signed by John Balfour of Burley, as quarter-master
+general of the army of the Covenant, for himself, and in name of the
+other leaders.
+
+The letter to Major Bellenden was from Henry Morton. It was couched in
+the following language:
+
+“I have taken a step, my venerable friend, which, among many painful
+consequences, will, I am afraid, incur your very decided disapprobation.
+But I have taken my resolution in honour and good faith, and with the
+full approval of my own conscience. I can no longer submit to have my own
+rights and those of my fellow-subjects trampled upon, our freedom
+violated, our persons insulted, and our blood spilt, without just cause
+or legal trial. Providence, through the violence of the oppressors
+themselves, seems now to have opened a way of deliverance from this
+intolerable tyranny, and I do not hold him deserving of the name and
+rights of a freeman, who, thinking as I do, shall withold his arm from
+the cause of his country. But God, who knows my heart, be my witness,
+that I do not share the angry or violent passions of the oppressed and
+harassed sufferers with whom I am now acting. My most earnest and anxious
+desire is, to see this unnatural war brought to a speedy end, by the
+union of the good, wise, and moderate of all parties, and a peace
+restored, which, without injury to the King’s constitutional rights, may
+substitute the authority of equal laws to that of military violence, and,
+permitting to all men to worship God according to their own consciences,
+may subdue fanatical enthusiasm by reason and mildness, instead of
+driving it to frenzy by persecution and intolerance.
+
+“With these sentiments, you may conceive with what pain I appear in arms
+before the house of your venerable relative, which we understand you
+propose to hold out against us. Permit me to press upon you the
+assurance, that such a measure will only lead to the effusion of
+blood--that, if repulsed in the assault, we are yet strong enough to
+invest the place, and reduce it by hunger, being aware of your
+indifferent preparations to sustain a protracted siege. It would grieve
+me to the heart to think what would be the sufferings in such a case,
+and upon whom they would chiefly fall.
+
+“Do not suppose, my respected friend, that I would propose to you any
+terms which could compromise the high and honourable character which you
+have so deservedly won, and so long borne. If the regular soldiers (to
+whom I will ensure a safe retreat) are dismissed from the place, I trust
+no more will be required than your parole to remain neuter during this
+unhappy contest; and I will take care that Lady Margaret’s property, as
+well as yours, shall be duly respected, and no garrison intruded upon
+you. I could say much in favour of this proposal; but I fear, as I must
+in the present instance appear criminal in your eyes, good arguments
+would lose their influence when coming from an unwelcome quarter. I will,
+therefore, break off with assuring you, that whatever your sentiments may
+be hereafter towards me, my sense of gratitude to you can never be
+diminished or erased; and it would be the happiest moment of my life that
+should give me more effectual means than mere words to assure you of it.
+Therefore, although in the first moment of resentment you may reject the
+proposal I make to you, let not that prevent you from resuming the topic,
+if future events should render it more acceptable; for whenever, or
+howsoever, I can be of service to you, it will always afford the greatest
+satisfaction to
+                                     “Henry Morton.”
+
+Having read this long letter with the most marked indignation, Major
+Bellenden put it into the hands of Lord Evandale.
+
+“I would not have believed this,” he said, “of Henry Morton, if half
+mankind had sworn it! The ungrateful, rebellious traitor! rebellious in
+cold blood, and without even the pretext of enthusiasm, that warms the
+liver of such a crack-brained fop as our friend the envoy there. But I
+should have remembered he was a presbyterian--I ought to have been aware
+that I was nursing a wolf-cub, whose diabolical nature would make him
+tear and snatch at me on the first opportunity. Were Saint Paul on earth
+again, and a presbyterian, he would be a rebel in three months--it is in
+the very blood of them.”
+
+“Well,” said Lord Evandale, “I will be the last to recommend surrender;
+but, if our provisions fail, and we receive no relief from Edinburgh or
+Glasgow, I think we ought to avail ourselves of this opening, to get the
+ladies, at least, safe out of the Castle.”
+
+“They will endure all, ere they would accept the protection of such a
+smooth-tongued hypocrite,” answered the Major indignantly; “I would
+renounce them for relatives were it otherwise. But let us dismiss the
+worthy ambassador.--My friend,” he said, turning to Langcale, “tell your
+leaders, and the mob they have gathered yonder, that, if they have not a
+particular opinion of the hardness of their own skulls, I would advise
+them to beware how they knock them against these old walls. And let them
+send no more flags of truce, or we will hang up the messenger in
+retaliation of the murder of Cornet Grahame.”
+
+With this answer the ambassador returned to those by whom he had been
+sent. He had no sooner reached the main body than a murmur was heard
+amongst the multitude, and there was raised in front of their ranks an
+ample red flag, the borders of which were edged with blue. As the signal
+of war and defiance spread out its large folds upon the morning wind, the
+ancient banner of Lady Margaret’s family, together with the royal ensign,
+were immediately hoisted on the walls of the Tower, and at the same time,
+a round of artillery was discharged against the foremost ranks of the
+insurgents, by which they sustained some loss. Their leaders instantly
+withdrew them to the shelter of the brow of the hill.
+
+“I think,” said John Gudyill, while he busied himself in re-charging his
+guns, “they hae fund the falcon’s neb a bit ower hard for them--It’s no
+for nought that the hawk whistles.”
+
+But as he uttered these words, the ridge was once more crowded with the
+ranks of the enemy. A general discharge of their fire-arms was directed
+against the defenders upon the battlements. Under cover of the smoke, a
+column of picked men rushed down the road with determined courage, and,
+sustaining with firmness a heavy fire from the garrison, they forced
+their way, in spite of opposition, to the first barricade by which the
+avenue was defended. They were led on by Balfour in person, who displayed
+courage equal to his enthusiasm; and, in spite of every opposition,
+forced the barricade, killing and wounding several of the defenders, and
+compelling the rest to retreat to their second position. The precautions,
+however, of Major Bellenden rendered this success unavailing; for no
+sooner were the Covenanters in possession of the post, than a close and
+destructive fire was poured into it from the Castle, and from those
+stations which commanded it in the rear. Having no means of protecting
+themselves from this fire, or of returning it with effect against men who
+were under cover of their barricades and defences, the Covenanters were
+obliged to retreat; but not until they had, with their axes, destroyed
+the stockade, so as to render it impossible for the defenders to
+re-occupy it.
+
+Balfour was the last man that retired. He even remained for a short space
+almost alone, with an axe in his hand, labouring like a pioneer amid the
+storm of balls, many of which were specially aimed against him. The
+retreat of the party he commanded was not effected without heavy loss,
+and served as a severe lesson concerning the local advantages possessed
+by the garrison.
+
+The next attack of the Covenanters was made with more caution. A strong
+party of marksmen, (many of them competitors at the game of the
+popinjay,) under the command of Henry Morton, glided through the woods
+where they afforded them the best shelter, and, avoiding the open road,
+endeavoured, by forcing their way through the bushes and trees, and up
+the rocks which surrounded it on either side, to gain a position, from
+which, without being exposed in an intolerable degree, they might annoy
+the flank of the second barricade, while it was menaced in front by a
+second attack from Burley. The besieged saw the danger of this movement,
+and endeavoured to impede the approach of the marksmen, by firing upon
+them at every point where they showed themselves. The assailants, on the
+other hand, displayed great coolness, spirit, and judgment, in the manner
+in which they approached the defences. This was, in a great measure, to
+be ascribed to the steady and adroit manner in which they were conducted
+by their youthful leader, who showed as much skill in protecting his own
+followers as spirit in annnoying the enemy.
+
+He repeatedly enjoined his marksmen to direct their aim chiefly upon the
+red-coats, and to save the others engaged in the defence of the Castle;
+and, above all, to spare the life of the old Major, whose anxiety made
+him more than once expose himself in a manner, that, without such
+generosity on the part of the enemy, might have proved fatal. A dropping
+fire of musketry now glanced from every part of the precipitous mount on
+which the Castle was founded. From bush to bush--from crag to crag--from
+tree to tree, the marksmen continued to advance, availing themselves of
+branches and roots to assist their ascent, and contending at once with
+the disadvantages of the ground and the fire of the enemy. At length they
+got so high on the ascent, that several of them possessed an opportunity
+of firing into the barricade against the defenders, who then lay exposed
+to their aim, and Burley, profiting by the confusion of the moment, moved
+forward to the attack in front. His onset was made with the same
+desperation and fury as before, and met with less resistance, the
+defenders being alarmed at the progress which the sharp-shooters had made
+in turning the flank of their position. Determined to improve his
+advantage, Burley, with his axe in his hand, pursued the party whom he
+had dislodged even to the third and last barricade, and entered it along
+with them.
+
+“Kill, kill--down with the enemies of God and his people!--No
+quarter--The Castle is ours!” were the cries by which he animated his
+friends; the most undaunted of whom followed him close, whilst the
+others, with axes, spades, and other implements, threw up earth, cut
+down trees, hastily labouring to establish such a defensive cover in the
+rear of the second barricade as might enable them to retain possession
+of it, in case the Castle was not carried by this coup-de-main.
+
+Lord Evandale could no longer restrain his impatience. He charged with a
+few soldiers who had been kept in reserve in the court-yard of the
+Castle; and, although his arm was in a sling, encouraged them, by voice
+and gesture, to assist their companions who were engaged with Burley. The
+combat now assumed an air of desperation. The narrow road was crowded
+with the followers of Burley, who pressed forward to support their
+companions. The soldiers, animated by the voice and presence of Lord
+Evandale, fought with fury, their small numbers being in some measure
+compensated by their greater skill, and by their possessing the upper
+ground, which they defended desperately with pikes and halberds, as well
+as with the but of the carabines and their broadswords. Those within the
+Castle endeavoured to assist their companions, whenever they could so
+level their guns as to fire upon the enemy without endangering their
+friends. The sharp-shooters, dispersed around, were firing incessantly on
+each object that was exposed upon the battlement. The Castle was
+enveloped with smoke, and the rocks rang to the cries of the combatants.
+In the midst of this scene of confusion, a singular accident had nearly
+given the besiegers possession of the fortress.
+
+Cuddie Headrigg, who had advanced among the marksmen, being well
+acquainted with every rock and bush in the vicinity of the Castle, where
+he had so often gathered nuts with Jenny Dennison, was enabled, by such
+local knowledge, to advance farther, and with less danger, than most of
+his companions, excepting some three or four who had followed him close.
+Now Cuddie, though a brave enough fellow upon the whole, was by no means
+fond of danger, either for its own sake, or for that of the glory which
+attends it. In his advance, therefore, he had not, as the phrase goes,
+taken the bull by the horns, or advanced in front of the enemy’s fire. On
+the contrary, he had edged gradually away from the scene of action, and,
+turning his line of ascent rather to the left, had pursued it until it
+brought him under a front of the Castle different from that before which
+the parties were engaged, and to which the defenders had given no
+attention, trusting to the steepness of the precipice. There was,
+however, on this point, a certain window belonging to a certain pantry,
+and communicating with a certain yew-tree, which grew out of a steep
+cleft of the rock, being the very pass through which Goose Gibbie was
+smuggled out of the Castle in order to carry Edith’s express to
+Charnwood, and which had probably, in its day, been used for other
+contraband purposes. Cuddie, resting upon the but of his gun, and looking
+up at this window, observed to one of his companions,--“There’s a place I
+ken weel; mony a time I hae helped Jenny Dennison out o’ the winnock,
+forby creeping in whiles mysell to get some daffin, at e’en after the
+pleugh was loosed.”
+
+“And what’s to hinder us to creep in just now?” said the other, who was a
+smart enterprising young fellow.
+
+“There’s no muckle to hinder us, an that were a’,” answered Cuddie; “but
+what were we to do neist?”
+
+“We’ll take the Castle,” cried the other; “here are five or six o’ us,
+and a’ the sodgers are engaged at the gate.”
+
+“Come awa wi’ you, then,” said Cuddie; “but mind, deil a finger ye maun
+lay on Lady Margaret, or Miss Edith, or the auld Major, or, aboon a’, on
+Jenny Dennison, or ony body but the sodgers--cut and quarter amang them
+as ye like, I carena.”
+
+“Ay, ay,” said the other, “let us once in, and we will make our ain terms
+with them a’.”
+
+Gingerly, and as if treading upon eggs, Cuddie began to ascend the
+well-known pass, not very willingly; for, besides that he was something
+apprehensive of the reception he might meet with in the inside, his
+conscience insisted that he was making but a shabby requital for Lady
+Margaret’s former favours and protection. He got up, however, into the
+yew-tree, followed by his companions, one after another. The window was
+small, and had been secured by stancheons of iron; but these had been
+long worn away by time, or forced out by the domestics to possess a free
+passage for their own occasional convenience. Entrance was therefore
+easy, providing there was no one in the pantry, a point which Cuddie
+endeavoured to discover before he made the final and perilous step. While
+his companions, therefore, were urging and threatening him behind, and he
+was hesitating and stretching his neck to look into the apartment, his
+head became visible to Jenny Dennison, who had ensconced herself in said
+pantry as the safest place in which to wait the issue of the assault. So
+soon as this object of terror caught her eye, she set up a hysteric
+scream, flew to the adjacent kitchen, and, in the desperate agony of
+fear, seized on a pot of kailbrose which she herself had hung on the fire
+before the combat began, having promised to Tam Halliday to prepare his
+breakfast for him. Thus burdened, she returned to the window of the
+pantry, and still exclaiming, “Murder! murder!--we are a’ harried and
+ravished--the Castle’s taen--tak it amang ye!” she discharged the whole
+scalding contents of the pot, accompanied with a dismal yell, upon the
+person of the unfortunate Cuddie. However welcome the mess might have
+been, if Cuddie and it had become acquainted in a regular manner, the
+effects, as administered by Jenny, would probably have cured him of
+soldiering for ever, had he been looking upwards when it was thrown upon
+him. But, fortunately for our man of war, he had taken the alarm upon
+Jenny’s first scream, and was in the act of looking down, expostulating
+with his comrades, who impeded the retreat which he was anxious to
+commence; so that the steel cap and buff coat which formerly belonged to
+Sergeant Bothwell, being garments of an excellent endurance, protected
+his person against the greater part of the scalding brose. Enough,
+however, reached him to annoy him severely, so that in the pain and
+surprise he jumped hastily out of the tree, oversetting his followers, to
+the manifest danger of their limbs, and, without listening to arguments,
+entreaties, or authority, made the best of his way by the most safe road
+to the main body of the army whereunto he belonged, and could neither by
+threats nor persuasion be prevailed upon to return to the attack.
+
+
+[Illustration: Jenny Dennison--050]
+
+
+As for Jenny, when she had thus conferred upon one admirer’s outward man
+the viands which her fair hands had so lately been in the act of
+preparing for the stomach of another, she continued her song of alarm,
+running a screaming division upon all those crimes, which the lawyers
+call the four pleas of the crown, namely, murder, fire, rape, and
+robbery. These hideous exclamations gave so much alarm, and created such
+confusion within the Castle, that Major Bellenden and Lord Evandale
+judged it best to draw off from the conflict without the gates, and,
+abandoning to the enemy all the exterior defences of the avenue, confine
+themselves to the Castle itself, for fear of its being surprised on some
+unguarded point. Their retreat was unmolested; for the panic of Cuddie
+and his companions had occasioned nearly as much confusion on the side
+of the besiegers, as the screams of Jenny had caused to the defenders.
+
+There was no attempt on either side to renew the action that day. The
+insurgents had suffered most severely; and, from the difficulty which
+they had experienced in carrying the barricadoed positions without the
+precincts of the Castle, they could have but little hope of storming the
+place itself. On the other hand, the situation of the besieged was
+dispiriting and gloomy. In the skirmishing they had lost two or three
+men, and had several wounded; and though their loss was in proportion
+greatly less than that of the enemy, who had left twenty men dead on the
+place, yet their small number could much worse spare it, while the
+desperate attacks of the opposite party plainly showed how serious the
+leaders were in the purpose of reducing the place, and how well seconded
+by the zeal of their followers. But, especially, the garrison had to fear
+for hunger, in case blockade should be resorted to as the means of
+reducing them. The Major’s directions had been imperfectly obeyed in
+regard to laying in provisions; and the dragoons, in spite of all warning
+and authority, were likely to be wasteful in using them. It was,
+therefore, with a heavy heart, that Major Bellenden gave directions for
+guarding the window through which the Castle had so nearly been
+surprised, as well as all others which offered the most remote facility
+for such an enterprise.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+               The King hath drawn
+               The special head of all the land together.
+                                   Henry IV. Part II.
+
+The leaders of the presbyterian army had a serious consultation upon the
+evening of the day in which they had made the attack on Tillietudlem.
+They could not but observe that their followers were disheartened by the
+loss which they had sustained, and which, as usual in such cases, had
+fallen upon the bravest and most forward. It was to be feared, that if
+they were suffered to exhaust their zeal and efforts in an object so
+secondary as the capture of this petty fort, their numbers would melt
+away by degrees, and they would lose all the advantages arising out of
+the present unprepared state of the government. Moved by these arguments,
+it was agreed that the main body of the army should march against
+Glasgow, and dislodge the soldiers who were lying in that town. The
+council nominated Henry Morton, with others, to this last service, and
+appointed Burley to the command of a chosen body of five hundred men, who
+were to remain behind, for the purpose of blockading the Tower of
+Tillietudlem. Morton testified the greatest repugnance to this
+arrangement.
+
+“He had the strongest personal motives,” he said, “for desiring to remain
+near Tillietudlem; and if the management of the siege were committed to
+him, he had little doubt but that he would bring it to such an
+accommodation, as, without being rigorous to the besieged, would fully
+answer the purpose of the besiegers.”
+
+Burley readily guessed the cause of his young colleague’s reluctance to
+move with the army; for, interested as he was in appreciating the
+characters with whom he had to deal, he had contrived, through the
+simplicity of Cuddie, and the enthusiasm of old Mause, to get much
+information concerning Morton’s relations with the family of
+Tillietudlem. He therefore took the advantage of Poundtext’s arising to
+speak to business, as he said, for some short space of time, (which
+Burley rightly interpreted to mean an hour at the very least), and seized
+that moment to withdraw Morton from the hearing of their colleagues, and
+to hold the following argument with him:
+
+“Thou art unwise, Henry Morton, to desire to sacrifice this holy cause to
+thy friendship for an uncircumcised Philistine, or thy lust for a
+Moabitish woman.”
+
+“I neither understand your meaning, Mr Balfour, nor relish your
+allusions,” replied Morton, indignantly; “and I know no reason you have
+to bring so gross a charge, or to use such uncivil language.”
+
+“Confess, however, the truth,” said Balfour, “and own that there are
+those within yon dark Tower, over whom thou wouldst rather be watching
+like a mother over her little ones, than thou wouldst bear the banner of
+the Church of Scotland over the necks of her enemies.”
+
+“If you mean, that I would willingly terminate this war without any
+bloody victory, and that I am more anxious to do this than to acquire any
+personal fame or power, you may be,” replied Morton, “perfectly right.”
+
+“And not wholly wrong,” answered Burley, “in deeming that thou wouldst
+not exclude from so general a pacification thy friends in the garrison of
+Tillietudlem.”
+
+“Certainly,” replied Morton; “I am too much obliged to Major Bellenden
+not to wish to be of service to him, as far as the interest of the cause
+I have espoused will permit. I never made a secret of my regard for him.”
+
+“I am aware of that,” said Burley; “but, if thou hadst concealed it, I
+should, nevertheless, have found out thy riddle. Now, hearken to my
+words. This Miles Bellenden hath means to subsist his garrison for a
+month.”
+
+“This is not the case,” answered Morton; “we know his stores are hardly
+equal to a week’s consumption.”
+
+“Ay, but,” continued Burley, “I have since had proof, of the strongest
+nature, that such a report was spread in the garrison by that wily and
+grey-headed malignant, partly to prevail on the soldiers to submit to a
+diminution of their daily food, partly to detain us before the walls of
+his fortress until the sword should be whetted to smite and destroy us.”
+
+“And why was not the evidence of this laid before the council of war?”
+ said Morton.
+
+“To what purpose?” said Balfour. “Why need we undeceive Kettledrummle,
+Macbriar, Poundtext, and Langcale, upon such a point? Thyself must own,
+that whatever is told to them escapes to the host out of the mouth of the
+preachers at their next holding-forth. They are already discouraged by
+the thoughts of lying before the fort a week. What would be the
+consequence were they ordered to prepare for the leaguer of a month?”
+
+“But why conceal it, then, from me? or why tell it me now? and, above
+all, what proofs have you got of the fact?” continued Morton.
+
+“There are many proofs,” replied Burley; and he put into his hands a
+number of requisitions sent forth by Major Bellenden, with receipts on
+the back to various proprietors, for cattle, corn, meal, to such an
+amount, that the sum total seemed to exclude the possibility of the
+garrison being soon distressed for provisions. But Burley did not inform
+Morton of a fact which he himself knew full well, namely, that most of
+these provisions never reached the garrison, owing to the rapacity of the
+dragoons sent to collect them, who readily sold to one man what they took
+from another, and abused the Major’s press for stores, pretty much as Sir
+John Falstaff did that of the King for men.
+
+“And now,” continued Balfour, observing that he had made the desired
+impression, “I have only to say, that I concealed this from thee no
+longer than it was concealed from myself, for I have only received these
+papers this morning; and I tell it unto thee now, that thou mayest go on
+thy way rejoicing, and work the great work willingly at Glasgow, being
+assured that no evil can befall thy friends in the malignant party, since
+their fort is abundantly victualled, and I possess not numbers sufficient
+to do more against them than to prevent their sallying forth.”
+
+“And why,” continued Morton, who felt an inexpressible reluctance to
+acquiesce in Balfour’s reasoning--“why not permit me to remain in the
+command of this smaller party, and march forward yourself to Glasgow? It
+is the more honourable charge.”
+
+“And therefore, young man,” answered Burley, “have I laboured that it
+should be committed to the son of Silas Morton. I am waxing old, and this
+grey head has had enough of honour where it could be gathered by danger.
+I speak not of the frothy bubble which men call earthly fame, but the
+honour belonging to him that doth not the work negligently. But thy
+career is yet to run. Thou hast to vindicate the high trust which has
+been bestowed on thee through my assurance that it was dearly
+well-merited. At Loudon-hill thou wert a captive, and at the last assault
+it was thy part to fight under cover, whilst I led the more open and
+dangerous attack; and, shouldst thou now remain before these walls when
+there is active service elsewhere, trust me, that men will say, that the
+son of Silas Morton hath fallen away from the paths of his father.”
+
+Stung by this last observation, to which, as a gentleman and soldier, he
+could offer no suitable reply, Morton hastily acquiesced in the proposed
+arrangement. Yet he was unable to divest himself of certain feelings of
+distrust which he involuntarily attached to the quarter from which he
+received this information.
+
+“Mr Balfour,” he said, “let us distinctly understand each other. You have
+thought it worth your while to bestow particular attention upon my
+private affairs and personal attachments; be so good as to understand,
+that I am as constant to them as to my political principles. It is
+possible, that, during my absence, you may possess the power of soothing
+or of wounding those feelings. Be assured, that whatever may be the
+consequences to the issue of our present adventure, my eternal gratitude,
+or my persevering resentment, will attend the line of conduct you may
+adopt on such an occasion; and, however young and inexperienced I am, I
+have no doubt of finding friends to assist me in expressing my sentiments
+in either case.”
+
+“If there be a threat implied in that denunciation,” replied Burley,
+coldly and haughtily, “it had better have been spared. I know how to
+value the regard of my friends, and despise, from my soul, the threats of
+my enemies. But I will not take occasion of offence. Whatever happens
+here in your absence shall be managed with as much deference to your
+wishes, as the duty I owe to a higher power can possibly permit.”
+
+With this qualified promise Morton was obliged to rest satisfied.
+
+“Our defeat will relieve the garrison,” said he, internally, “ere they
+can be reduced to surrender at discretion; and, in case of victory, I
+already see, from the numbers of the moderate party, that I shall have a
+voice as powerful as Burley’s in determining the use which shall be made
+of it.”
+
+He therefore followed Balfour to the council, where they found
+Kettledrummle adding to his lastly a few words of practical application.
+When these were expended, Morton testified his willingness to accompany
+the main body of the army, which was destined to drive the regular troops
+from Glasgow. His companions in command were named, and the whole
+received a strengthening exhortation from the preachers who were present.
+Next morning, at break of day, the insurgent army broke up from their
+encampment, and marched towards Glasgow.
+
+It is not our intention to detail at length incidents which may be found
+in the history of the period. It is sufficient to say, that Claverhouse
+and Lord Ross, learning the superior force which was directed against
+them, intrenched, or rather barricadoed themselves, in the centre of the
+city, where the town-house and old jail were situated, with the
+determination to stand the assault of the insurgents rather than to
+abandon the capital of the west of Scotland. The presbyterians made their
+attack in two bodies, one of which penetrated into the city in the line
+of the College and Cathedral Church, while the other marched up the
+Gallowgate, or principal access from the south-east. Both divisions were
+led by men of resolution, and behaved with great spirit. But the
+advantages of military skill and situation were too great for their
+undisciplined valour.
+
+Ross and Claverhouse had carefully disposed parties of their soldiers in
+houses, at the heads of the streets, and in the entrances of closes, as
+they are called, or lanes, besides those who were intrenched behind
+breast-works which reached across the streets. The assailants found their
+ranks thinned by a fire from invisible opponents, which they had no means
+of returning with effect. It was in vain that Morton and other leaders
+exposed their persons with the utmost gallantry, and endeavoured to bring
+their antagonists to a close action; their followers shrunk from them in
+every direction. And yet, though Henry Morton was one of the very last to
+retire, and exerted himself in bringing up the rear, maintaining order in
+the retreat, and checking every attempt which the enemy made to improve
+the advantage they had gained by the repulse, he had still the
+mortification to hear many of those in his ranks muttering to each other,
+that “this came of trusting to latitudinarian boys; and that, had honest,
+faithful Burley led the attack, as he did that of the barricades of
+Tillietudlem, the issue would have been as different as might be.”
+
+It was with burning resentment that Morton heard these reflections thrown
+out by the very men who had soonest exhibited signs of discouragement.
+The unjust reproach, however, had the effect of firing his emulation, and
+making him sensible that, engaged as he was in a perilous cause, it was
+absolutely necessary that he should conquer or die.
+
+“I have no retreat,” he said to himself. “All shall allow--even Major
+Bellenden--even Edith--that in courage, at least, the rebel Morton was
+not inferior to his father.”
+
+The condition of the army after the repulse was so undisciplined, and in
+such disorganization, that the leaders thought it prudent to draw off
+some miles from the city to gain time for reducing them once more into
+such order as they were capable of adopting. Recruits, in the meanwhile,
+came fast in, more moved by the extreme hardships of their own condition,
+and encouraged by the advantage obtained at Loudon-hill, than deterred by
+the last unfortunate enterprise. Many of these attached themselves
+particularly to Morton’s division. He had, however, the mortification to
+see that his unpopularity among the more intolerant part of the
+Covenanters increased rapidly. The prudence beyond his years, which he
+exhibited in improving the discipline and arrangement of his followers,
+they termed a trusting in the arm of flesh, and his avowed tolerance for
+those of religious sentiments and observances different from his own,
+obtained him, most unjustly, the nickname of Gallio, who cared for none
+of those things. What was worse than these misconceptions, the mob of the
+insurgents, always loudest in applause of those who push political or
+religious opinions to extremity, and disgusted with such as endeavour to
+reduce them to the yoke of discipline, preferred avowedly the more
+zealous leaders, in whose ranks enthusiasm in the cause supplied the want
+of good order and military subjection, to the restraints which Morton
+endeavoured to bring them under. In short, while bearing the principal
+burden of command, (for his colleagues willingly relinquished in his
+favour every thing that was troublesome and obnoxious in the office of
+general,) Morton found himself without that authority, which alone could
+render his regulations effectual. [Note: These feuds, which tore to
+pieces the little army of insurgents, turned merely on the point whether
+the king’s interest or royal authority was to be owned or not, and
+whether the party in arms were to be contented with a free exercise of
+their own religion, or insist upon the re-establishment of Presbytery in
+its supreme authority, and with full power to predominate over all other
+forms of worship. The few country gentlemen who joined the insurrection,
+with the most sensible part of the clergy, thought it best to limit their
+demands to what it might be possible to attain. But the party who urged
+these moderate views were termed by the more zealous bigots, the Erastian
+party, men, namely, who were willing to place the church under the
+influence of the civil government, and therefore they accounted them, “a
+snare upon Mizpah, and a net spread upon Tabor.” See the Life of Sir
+Robert Hamilton in the Scottish Worthies, and his account of the Battle
+of Both-well-bridge, passim.]
+
+Yet, notwithstanding these obstacles, he had, during the course of a few
+days, laboured so hard to introduce some degree of discipline into the
+army, that he thought he might hazard a second attack upon Glasgow with
+every prospect of success.
+
+It cannot be doubted that Morton’s anxiety to measure himself with
+Colonel Grahame of Claverhouse, at whose hands he had sustained such
+injury, had its share in giving motive to his uncommon exertions. But
+Claverhouse disappointed his hopes; for, satisfied with having the
+advantage in repulsing the first attack upon Glasgow, he determined that
+he would not, with the handful of troops under his command, await a
+second assault from the insurgents, with more numerous and better
+disciplined forces than had supported their first enterprise. He
+therefore evacuated the place, and marched at the head of his troops
+towards Edinburgh. The insurgents of course entered Glasgow without
+resistance, and without Morton having the opportunity, which he so deeply
+coveted, of again encountering Claverhouse personally. But, although he
+had not an opportunity of wiping away the disgrace which had befallen his
+division of the army of the Covenant, the retreat of Claverhouse, and the
+possession of Glasgow, tended greatly to animate the insurgent army, and
+to increase its numbers. The necessity of appointing new officers, of
+organizing new regiments and squadrons, of making them acquainted with at
+least the most necessary points of military discipline, were labours,
+which, by universal consent, seemed to be devolved upon Henry Morton, and
+which he the more readily undertook, because his father had made him
+acquainted with the theory of the military art, and because he plainly
+saw, that, unless he took this ungracious but absolutely necessary
+labour, it was vain to expect any other to engage in it.
+
+In the meanwhile, fortune appeared to favour the enterprise of the
+insurgents more than the most sanguine durst have expected. The Privy
+Council of Scotland, astonished at the extent of resistance which their
+arbitrary measures had provoked, seemed stupified with terror, and
+incapable of taking active steps to subdue the resentment which these
+measures had excited. There were but very few troops in Scotland, and
+these they drew towards Edinburgh, as if to form an army for protection
+of the metropolis. The feudal array of the crown vassals in the various
+counties, was ordered to take the field, and render to the King the
+military service due for their fiefs. But the summons was very slackly
+obeyed. The quarrel was not generally popular among the gentry; and even
+those who were not unwilling themselves to have taken arms, were deterred
+by the repugnance of their wives, mothers, and sisters, to their engaging
+in such a cause.
+
+Meanwhile, the inadequacy of the Scottish government to provide for their
+own defence, or to put down a rebellion of which the commencement seemed
+so trifling, excited at the English court doubts at once of their
+capacity, and of the prudence of the severities they had exerted against
+the oppressed presbyterians. It was, therefore, resolved to nominate to
+the command of the army of Scotland, the unfortunate Duke of Monmouth,
+who had by marriage a great interest, large estate, and a numerous
+following, as it was called, in the southern parts of that kingdom. The
+military skill which he had displayed on different occasions abroad, was
+supposed more than adequate to subdue the insurgents in the field; while
+it was expected that his mild temper, and the favourable disposition
+which he showed to presbyterians in general, might soften men’s minds,
+and tend to reconcile them to the government. The Duke was, therefore,
+invested with a commission, containing high powers for settling the
+distracted affairs of Scotland, and dispatched from London with strong
+succours to take the principal military command in that country.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+                    I am bound to Bothwell-hill,
+                    Where I maun either do or die.
+                                             Old Ballad.
+
+
+[Illustration: The Battle of Bothwell Bridge--128
+
+
+There was now a pause in the military movements on both sides. The
+government seemed contented to prevent the rebels advancing towards the
+capital, while the insurgents were intent upon augmenting and
+strengthening their forces. For this purpose, they established a sort of
+encampment in the park belonging to the ducal residence at Hamilton, a
+centrical situation for receiving their recruits, and where they were
+secured from any sudden attack, by having the Clyde, a deep and rapid
+river, in front of their position, which is only passable by a long and
+narrow bridge, near the castle and village of Bothwell.
+
+Morton remained here for about a fortnight after the attack on Glasgow,
+actively engaged in his military duties. He had received more than one
+communication from Burley, but they only stated, in general, that the
+Castle of Tillietudlem continued to hold out. Impatient of suspense upon
+this most interesting subject, he at length intimated to his colleagues
+in command his desire, or rather his intention,--for he saw no reason why
+he should not assume a license which was taken by every one else in this
+disorderly army,--to go to Milnwood for a day or two to arrange some
+private affairs of consequence. The proposal was by no means approved of;
+for the military council of the insurgents were sufficiently sensible of
+the value of his services to fear to lose them, and felt somewhat
+conscious of their own inability to supply his place. They could not,
+however, pretend to dictate to him laws more rigid than they submitted to
+themselves, and he was suffered to depart on his journey without any
+direct objection being stated. The Reverend Mr Poundtext took the same
+opportunity to pay a visit to his own residence in the neighbourhood of
+Milnwood, and favoured Morton with his company on the journey. As the
+country was chiefly friendly to their cause, and in possession of their
+detached parties, excepting here and there the stronghold of some old
+cavaliering Baron, they travelled without any other attendant than the
+faithful Cuddie.
+
+It was near sunset when they reached Milnwood, where Poundtext bid adieu
+to his companions, and travelled forward alone to his own manse, which
+was situated half a mile’s march beyond Tillietudlem. When Morton was
+left alone to his own reflections, with what a complication of feelings
+did he review the woods, banks, and fields, that had been familiar to
+him! His character, as well as his habits, thoughts, and occupations, had
+been entirely changed within the space of little more than a fortnight,
+and twenty days seemed to have done upon him the work of as many years. A
+mild, romantic, gentle-tempered youth, bred up in dependence, and
+stooping patiently to the control of a sordid and tyrannical relation,
+had suddenly, by the rod of oppression and the spur of injured feeling,
+been compelled to stand forth a leader of armed men, was earnestly
+engaged in affairs of a public nature, had friends to animate and enemies
+to contend with, and felt his individual fate bound up in that of a
+national insurrection and revolution. It seemed as if he had at once
+experienced a transition from the romantic dreams of youth to the labours
+and cares of active manhood. All that had formerly interested him was
+obliterated from his memory, excepting only his attachment to Edith; and
+even his love seemed to have assumed a character more manly and
+disinterested, as it had become mingled and contrasted with other duties
+and feelings. As he revolved the particulars of this sudden change, the
+circumstances in which it originated, and the possible consequences of
+his present career, the thrill of natural anxiety which passed along his
+mind was immediately banished by a glow of generous and high-spirited
+confidence.
+
+“I shall fall young,” he said, “if fall I must, my motives misconstrued,
+and my actions condemned, by those whose approbation is dearest to me.
+But the sword of liberty and patriotism is in my hand, and I will neither
+fall meanly nor unavenged. They may expose my body, and gibbet my limbs;
+but other days will come, when the sentence of infamy will recoil against
+those who may pronounce it. And that Heaven, whose name is so often
+profaned during this unnatural war, will bear witness to the purity of
+the motives by which I have been guided.”
+
+Upon approaching Milnwood, Henry’s knock upon the gate no longer
+intimated the conscious timidity of a stripling who has been out of
+bounds, but the confidence of a man in full possession of his own rights,
+and master of his own actions,--bold, free, and decided. The door was
+cautiously opened by his old acquaintance, Mrs Alison Wilson, who started
+back when she saw the steel cap and nodding plume of the martial visitor.
+
+“Where is my uncle, Alison?” said Morton, smiling at her alarm.
+
+“Lordsake, Mr Harry! is this you?” returned the old lady. “In troth, ye
+garr’d my heart loup to my very mouth--But it canna be your ainsell, for
+ye look taller and mair manly-like than ye used to do.”
+
+“It is, however, my own self,” said Henry, sighing and smiling at the
+same time; “I believe this dress may make me look taller, and these
+times, Ailie, make men out of boys.”
+
+“Sad times indeed!” echoed the old woman; “and O that you suld be
+endangered wi’them! but wha can help it?--ye were ill eneugh guided, and,
+as I tell your uncle, if ye tread on a worm it will turn.”
+
+“You were always my advocate, Ailie,” said he, and the housekeeper no
+longer resented the familiar epithet, “and would let no one blame me but
+yourself, I am aware of that,--Where is my uncle?”
+
+“In Edinburgh,” replied Alison; “the honest man thought it was best to
+gang and sit by the chimley when the reek rase--a vex’d man he’s been and
+a feared--but ye ken the Laird as weel as I do.”
+
+“I hope he has suffered nothing in health?” said Henry.
+
+“Naething to speak of,” answered the housekeeper, “nor in gudes
+neither--we fended as weel as we could; and, though the troopers of
+Tillietudlem took the red cow and auld Hackie, (ye’ll mind them weel;)
+yet they sauld us a gude bargain o’ four they were driving to the
+Castle.”
+
+“Sold you a bargain?” said Morton; “how do you mean?”
+
+“Ou, they cam out to gather marts for the garrison,” answered the
+housekeeper; “but they just fell to their auld trade, and rade through
+the country couping and selling a’ that they gat, like sae mony
+west-country drovers. My certie, Major Bellenden was laird o’ the least
+share o’ what they lifted, though it was taen in his name.”
+
+“Then,” said Morton, hastily, “the garrison must be straitened for
+provisions?”
+
+“Stressed eneugh,” replied Ailie--“there’s little doubt o’ that.”
+
+A light instantly glanced on Morton’s mind.
+
+“Burley must have deceived me--craft as well as cruelty is permitted by
+his creed.” Such was his inward thought; he said aloud, “I cannot stay,
+Mrs Wilson, I must go forward directly.”
+
+“But, oh! bide to eat a mouthfu’,” entreated the affectionate
+housekeeper, “and I’ll mak it ready for you as I used to do afore thae
+sad days,” “It is impossible,” answered Morton.--“Cuddie, get our horses
+ready.”
+
+“They’re just eating their corn,” answered the attendant.
+
+“Cuddie!” exclaimed Ailie; “what garr’d ye bring that ill-faur’d, unlucky
+loon alang wi’ ye?--It was him and his randie mother began a’ the
+mischief in this house.”
+
+“Tut, tut,” replied Cuddie, “ye should forget and forgie, mistress.
+Mither’s in Glasgow wi’ her tittie, and sall plague ye nae mair; and I’m
+the Captain’s wallie now, and I keep him tighter in thack and rape than
+ever ye did;--saw ye him ever sae weel put on as he is now?”
+
+“In troth and that’s true,” said the old housekeeper, looking with great
+complacency at her young master, whose mien she thought much improved by
+his dress. “I’m sure ye ne’er had a laced cravat like that when ye were
+at Milnwood; that’s nane o’ my sewing.”
+
+“Na, na, mistress,” replied Cuddie, “that’s a cast o’ my hand--that’s ane
+o’ Lord Evandale’s braws.”
+
+“Lord Evandale?” answered the old lady, “that’s him that the whigs are
+gaun to hang the morn, as I hear say.”
+
+“The whigs about to hang Lord Evandale?” said Morton, in the greatest
+surprise.
+
+“Ay, troth are they,” said the housekeeper. “Yesterday night he made a
+sally, as they ca’t, (my mother’s name was Sally--I wonder they gie
+Christian folk’s names to sic unchristian doings,)--but he made an
+outbreak to get provisions, and his men were driven back and he was taen,
+’an’ the whig Captain Balfour garr’d set up a gallows, and swore, (or
+said upon his conscience, for they winna swear,) that if the garrison was
+not gien ower the morn by daybreak, he would hing up the young lord, poor
+thing, as high as Haman.--These are sair times!--but folk canna help
+them--sae do ye sit down and tak bread and cheese until better meat’s
+made ready. Ye suldna hae kend a word about it, an I had thought it was
+to spoil your dinner, hinny.”
+
+“Fed, or unfed,” exclaimed Morton, “saddle the horses instantly, Cuddie.
+We must not rest until we get before the Castle.”
+
+And, resisting all Ailie’s entreaties, they instantly resumed their
+journey.
+
+Morton failed not to halt at the dwelling of Poundtext, and summon him to
+attend him to the camp. That honest divine had just resumed for an
+instant his pacific habits, and was perusing an ancient theological
+treatise, with a pipe in his mouth, and a small jug of ale beside him, to
+assist his digestion of the argument. It was with bitter ill-will that he
+relinquished these comforts (which he called his studies) in order to
+recommence a hard ride upon a high-trotting horse. However, when he knew
+the matter in hand, he gave up, with a deep groan, the prospect of
+spending a quiet evening in his own little parlour; for he entirely
+agreed with Morton, that whatever interest Burley might have in rendering
+the breach between the presbyterians and the government irreconcilable,
+by putting the young nobleman to death, it was by no means that of the
+moderate party to permit such an act of atrocity. And it is but doing
+justice to Mr Poundtext to add, that, like most of his own persuasion, he
+was decidedly adverse to any such acts of unnecessary violence; besides,
+that his own present feelings induced him to listen with much complacence
+to the probability held out by Morton, of Lord Evandale’s becoming a
+mediator for the establishment of peace upon fair and moderate terms.
+With this similarity of views, they hastened their journey, and arrived
+about eleven o’clock at night at a small hamlet adjacent to the Castle at
+Tillietudlem, where Burley had established his head-quarters.
+
+They were challenged by the sentinel, who made his melancholy walk at the
+entrance of the hamlet, and admitted upon declaring their names and
+authority in the army. Another soldier kept watch before a house, which
+they conjectured to be the place of Lord Evandale’s confinement, for a
+gibbet of such great height as to be visible from the battlements of the
+Castle, was erected before it, in melancholy confirmation of the truth of
+Mrs Wilson’s report. [Note: The Cameronians had suffered persecution, but
+it was without learning mercy. We are informed by Captain Crichton, that
+they had set up in their camp a huge gibbet, or gallows, having many
+hooks upon it, with a coil of new ropes lying beside it, for the
+execution of such royalists as they might make prisoners. Guild, in his
+Bellum Bothuellianum, describes this machine particularly.] Morton
+instantly demanded to speak with Burley, and was directed to his
+quarters. They found him reading the Scriptures, with his arms lying
+beside him, as if ready for any sudden alarm. He started upon the
+entrance of his colleagues in office.
+
+“What has brought ye hither?” said Burley, hastily. “Is there bad news
+from the army?”
+
+“No,” replied Morton; “but we understand that there are measures adopted
+here in which the safety of the army is deeply concerned--Lord Evandale
+is your prisoner?”
+
+“The Lord,” replied Burley, “hath delivered him into our hands.”
+
+“And you will avail yourself of that advantage, granted you by Heaven, to
+dishonour our cause in the eyes of all the world, by putting a prisoner
+to an ignominious death?”
+
+“If the house of Tillietudlem be not surrendered by daybreak,” replied
+Burley, “God do so to me and more also, if he shall not die that death to
+which his leader and patron, John Grahame of Claverhouse, hath put so
+many of God’s saints.”
+
+“We are in arms,” replied Morton, “to put down such cruelties, and not to
+imitate them, far less to avenge upon the innocent the acts of the
+guilty. By what law can you justify the atrocity you would commit?”
+
+“If thou art ignorant of it,” replied Burley, “thy companion is well
+aware of the law which gave the men of Jericho to the sword of Joshua,
+the son of Nun.”
+
+“But we,” answered the divine, “live under a better dispensation, which
+instructeth us to return good for evil, and to pray for those who
+despitefully use us and persecute us.”
+
+“That is to say,” said Burley, “that thou wilt join thy grey hairs to his
+green youth to controvert me in this matter?”
+
+“We are,” rejoined Poundtext, “two of those to whom, jointly with
+thyself, authority is delegated over this host, and we will not permit
+thee to hurt a hair of the prisoner’s head. It may please God to make him
+a means of healing these unhappy breaches in our Israel.”
+
+“I judged it would come to this,” answered Burley, “when such as thou
+wert called into the council of the elders.”
+
+“Such as I?” answered Poundtext,--“And who am I, that you should name me
+with such scorn?--Have I not kept the flock of this sheep-fold from the
+wolves for thirty years? Ay, even while thou, John Balfour, wert fighting
+in the ranks of uncircumcision, a Philistine of hardened brow and bloody
+hand--Who am I, say’st thou?”
+
+“I will tell thee what thou art, since thou wouldst so fain know,” said
+Burley. “Thou art one of those, who would reap where thou hast not sowed,
+and divide the spoil while others fight the battle--thou art one of those
+that follow the gospel for the loaves and for the fishes--that love their
+own manse better than the Church of God, and that would rather draw their
+stipends under prelatists or heathens, than be a partaker with those
+noble spirits who have cast all behind them for the sake of the
+Covenant.”
+
+“And I will tell thee, John Balfour,” returned Poundtext, deservedly
+incensed, “I will tell thee what thou art. Thou art one of those, for
+whose bloody and merciless disposition a reproach is flung upon the whole
+church of this suffering kingdom, and for whose violence and
+blood-guiltiness, it is to be feared, this fair attempt to recover our
+civil and religious rights will never be honoured by Providence with the
+desired success.”
+
+“Gentlemen,” said Morton, “cease this irritating and unavailing
+recrimination; and do you, Mr Balfour, inform us, whether it is your
+purpose to oppose the liberation of Lord Evandale, which appears to us a
+profitable measure in the present position of our affairs?”
+
+“You are here,” answered Burley, “as two voices against one; but you will
+not refuse to tarry until the united council shall decide upon this
+matter?”
+
+“This,” said Morton, “we would not decline, if we could trust the hands
+in whom we are to leave the prisoner.--But you know well,” he added,
+looking sternly at Burley, “that you have already deceived me in this
+matter.”
+
+“Go to,” said Burley, disdainfully,--“thou art an idle inconsiderate boy,
+who, for the black eyebrows of a silly girl, would barter thy own faith
+and honour, and the cause of God and of thy country.”
+
+“Mr Balfour,” said Morton, laying his hand on his sword, “this language
+requires satisfaction.”
+
+“And thou shalt have it, stripling, when and where thou darest,” said
+Burley; “I plight thee my good word on it.”
+
+Poundtext, in his turn, interfered to remind them of the madness of
+quarrelling, and effected with difficulty a sort of sullen
+reconciliation.
+
+“Concerning the prisoner,” said Burley, “deal with him as ye think fit. I
+wash my hands free from all consequences. He is my prisoner, made by my
+sword and spear, while you, Mr Morton, were playing the adjutant at
+drills and parades, and you, Mr Poundtext, were warping the Scriptures
+into Erastianism. Take him unto you, nevertheless, and dispose of him as
+ye think meet.--Dingwall,” he continued, calling a sort of aid-de-camp,
+who slept in the next apartment, “let the guard posted on the malignant
+Evandale give up their post to those whom Captain Morton shall appoint to
+relieve them.--The prisoner,” he said, again addressing Poundtext and
+Morton, “is now at your disposal, gentlemen. But remember, that for all
+these things there will one day come a term of heavy accounting.”
+
+So saying, he turned abruptly into an inner apartment, without bidding
+them good evening. His two visitors, after a moment’s consideration,
+agreed it would be prudent to ensure the prisoner’s personal safety, by
+placing over him an additional guard, chosen from their own parishioners.
+A band of them happened to be stationed in the hamlet, having been
+attached, for the time, to Burley’s command, in order that the men might
+be gratified by remaining as long as possible near to their own homes.
+They were, in general, smart, active young fellows, and were usually
+called by their companions, the Marksmen of Milnwood. By Morton’s desire,
+four of these lads readily undertook the task of sentinels, and he left
+with them Headrigg, on whose fidelity he could depend, with instructions
+to call him, if any thing remarkable happened.
+
+This arrangement being made, Morton and his colleague took possession,
+for the night, of such quarters as the over-crowded and miserable hamlet
+could afford them. They did not, however, separate for repose till they
+had drawn up a memorial of the grievances of the moderate presbyterians,
+which was summed up with a request of free toleration for their religion
+in future, and that they should be permitted to attend gospel ordinances
+as dispensed by their own clergymen, without oppression or molestation.
+Their petition proceeded to require that a free parliament should be
+called for settling the affairs of church and state, and for redressing
+the injuries sustained by the subject; and that all those who either now
+were, or had been, in arms, for obtaining these ends, should be
+indemnified. Morton could not but strongly hope that these terms, which
+comprehended all that was wanted, or wished for, by the moderate party
+among the insurgents, might, when thus cleared of the violence of
+fanaticism, find advocates even among the royalists, as claiming only the
+ordinary rights of Scottish freemen.
+
+He had the more confidence of a favourable reception, that the Duke of
+Monmouth, to whom Charles had intrusted the charge of subduing this
+rebellion, was a man of gentle, moderate, and accessible disposition,
+well known to be favourable to the presbyterians, and invested by the
+king with full powers to take measures for quieting the disturbances in
+Scotland. It seemed to Morton, that all that was necessary for
+influencing him in their favour was to find a fit and sufficiently
+respectable channel of communication, and such seemed to be opened
+through the medium of Lord Evandale. He resolved, therefore, to visit the
+prisoner early in the morning, in order to sound his dispositions to
+undertake the task of mediator; but an accident happened which led him to
+anticipate his purpose.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+                    Gie ower your house, lady, he said,--
+                    Gie ower your house to me.
+                                        Edom of Gordon.
+
+Morton had finished the revisal and the making out of a fair copy of the
+paper on which he and Poundtext had agreed to rest as a full statement of
+the grievances of their party, and the conditions on which the greater
+part of the insurgents would be contented to lay down their arms; and he
+was about to betake himself to repose, when there was a knocking at the
+door of his apartment.
+
+“Enter,” said Morton; and the round bullethead of Cuddie Headrigg was
+thrust into the room. “Come in,” said Morton, “and tell me what you want.
+Is there any alarm?”
+
+“Na, stir; but I hae brought ane to speak wi’ you.”
+
+“Who is that, Cuddie?” enquired Morton.
+
+“Ane o’ your auld acquaintance,” said Cuddie; and, opening the door more
+fully, he half led, half dragged in a woman, whose face was muffled in
+her plaid.--“Come, come, ye needna be sae bashfu’ before auld
+acquaintance, Jenny,” said Cuddie, pulling down the veil, and discovering
+to his master the well-remembered countenance of Jenny Dennison. “Tell
+his honour, now--there’s a braw lass--tell him what ye were wanting to
+say to Lord Evandale, mistress.”
+
+“What was I wanting to say,” answered Jenny, “to his honour himsell the
+other morning, when I visited him in captivity, ye muckle hash?--D’ye
+think that folk dinna want to see their friends in adversity, ye dour
+crowdy-eater?”
+
+This reply was made with Jenny’s usual volubility; but her voice
+quivered, her cheek was thin and pale, the tears stood in her eyes, her
+hand trembled, her manner was fluttered, and her whole presence bore
+marks of recent suffering and privation, as well as nervous and
+hysterical agitation.
+
+“What is the matter, Jenny?” said Morton, kindly. “You know how much I
+owe you in many respects, and can hardly make a request that I will not
+grant, if in my power.”
+
+“Many thanks, Milnwood,” said the weeping damsel; “but ye were aye a kind
+gentleman, though folk say ye hae become sair changed now.”
+
+“What do they say of me?” answered Morton.
+
+“A’ body says,” replied Jenny, “that you and the whigs hae made a vow to
+ding King Charles aff the throne, and that neither he, nor his posteriors
+from generation to generation, shall sit upon it ony mair; and John
+Gudyill threeps ye’re to gie a’ the church organs to the pipers, and burn
+the Book o’ Common-prayer by the hands of the common hangman, in revenge
+of the Covenant that was burnt when the king cam hame.”
+
+“My friends at Tillietudlem judge too hastily and too ill of me,”
+ answered Morton. “I wish to have free exercise of my own religion,
+without insulting any other; and as to your family, I only desire an
+opportunity to show them I have the same friendship and kindness as
+ever.”
+
+“Bless your kind heart for saying sae,” said Jenny, bursting into a flood
+of tears; “and they never needed kindness or friendship mair, for they
+are famished for lack o’ food.”
+
+“Good God!” replied Morton, “I have heard of scarcity, but not of famine!
+It is possible?--Have the ladies and the Major”--
+
+“They hae suffered like the lave o’ us,” replied Jenny; “for they shared
+every bit and sup wi’ the whole folk in the Castle--I’m sure my poor een
+see fifty colours wi’ faintness, and my head’s sae dizzy wi’ the
+mirligoes that I canna stand my lane.”
+
+The thinness of the poor girl’s cheek, and the sharpness of her features,
+bore witness to the truth of what she said. Morton was greatly shocked.
+
+“Sit down,” he said, “for God’s sake!” forcing her into the only chair
+the apartment afforded, while he himself strode up and down the room in
+horror and impatience. “I knew not of this,” he exclaimed in broken
+ejaculations,--“I could not know of it.--Cold-blooded, iron-hearted
+fanatic--deceitful villain!--Cuddie, fetch refreshments--food--wine, if
+possible--whatever you can find.”
+
+“Whisky is gude eneugh for her,” muttered Cuddie; “ane wadna hae thought
+that gude meal was sae scant amang them, when the quean threw sae muckle
+gude kail-brose scalding het about my lugs.”
+
+Faint and miserable as Jenny seemed to be, she could not hear the
+allusion to her exploit during the storm of the Castle, without bursting
+into a laugh which weakness soon converted into a hysterical giggle.
+Confounded at her state, and reflecting with horror on the distress which
+must have been in the Castle, Morton repeated his commands to Headrigg in
+a peremptory manner; and when he had departed, endeavoured to soothe his
+visitor.
+
+“You come, I suppose, by the orders of your mistress, to visit Lord
+Evandale?--Tell me what she desires; her orders shall be my law.”
+
+Jenny appeared to reflect a moment, and then said, “Your honour is sae
+auld a friend, I must needs trust to you, and tell the truth.”
+
+“Be assured, Jenny,” said Morton, observing that she hesitated, “that you
+will best serve your mistress by dealing sincerely with me.”
+
+“Weel, then, ye maun ken we’re starving, as I said before, and have been
+mair days than ane; and the Major has sworn that he expects relief daily,
+and that he will not gie ower the house to the enemy till we have eaten
+up his auld boots,--and they are unco thick in the soles, as ye may weel
+mind, forby being teugh in the upper-leather. The dragoons, again, they
+think they will be forced to gie up at last, and they canna bide hunger
+weel, after the life they led at free quarters for this while bypast; and
+since Lord Evandale’s taen, there’s nae guiding them; and Inglis says
+he’ll gie up the garrison to the whigs, and the Major and the leddies
+into the bargain, if they will but let the troopers gang free themsells.”
+
+“Scoundrels!” said Morton; “why do they not make terms for all in the
+Castle?”
+
+“They are fear’d for denial o’ quarter to themsells, having dune sae
+muckle mischief through the country; and Burley has hanged ane or twa o’
+them already--sae they want to draw their ain necks out o’ the collar at
+hazard o’ honest folk’s.”
+
+“And you were sent,” continued Morton, “to carry to Lord Evandale the
+unpleasant news of the men’s mutiny?”
+
+“Just e’en sae,” said Jenny; “Tam Halliday took the rue, and tauld me a’
+about it, and gat me out o’ the Castle to tell Lord Evandale, if possibly
+I could win at him.”
+
+“But how can he help you?” said Morton; “he is a prisoner.”
+
+“Well-a-day, ay,” answered the afflicted damsel; “but maybe he could mak
+fair terms for us--or, maybe, he could gie us some good advice--or,
+maybe, he might send his orders to the dragoons to be civil--or”--
+
+“Or, maybe,” said Morton, “you were to try if it were possible to set him
+at liberty?”
+
+“If it were sae,” answered Jenny with spirit, “it wadna be the first time
+I hae done my best to serve a friend in captivity.”
+
+“True, Jenny,” replied Morton, “I were most ungrateful to forget it. But
+here comes Cuddie with refreshments--I will go and do your errand to Lord
+Evandale, while you take some food and wine.”
+
+“It willna be amiss ye should ken,” said Cuddie to his master, “that this
+Jenny--this Mrs Dennison, was trying to cuittle favour wi’ Tam Rand, the
+miller’s man, to win into Lord Evandale’s room without ony body kennin’.
+She wasna thinking, the gipsy, that I was at her elbow.”
+
+“And an unco fright ye gae me when ye cam ahint and took a grip o’ me,”
+ said Jenny, giving him a sly twitch with her finger and her thumb--“if ye
+hadna been an auld acquaintance, ye daft gomeril”--
+
+Cuddie, somewhat relenting, grinned a smile on his artful mistress, while
+Morton wrapped himself up in his cloak, took his sword under his arm, and
+went straight to the place of the young nobleman’s confinement. He asked
+the sentinels if any thing extraordinary had occurred.
+
+“Nothing worth notice,” they said, “excepting the lass that Cuddie took
+up, and two couriers that Captain Balfour had dispatched, one to the
+Reverend Ephraim Macbriar, another to Kettledrummle,” both of whom were
+beating the drum ecclesiastic in different towns between the position of
+Burley and the head-quarters of the main army near Hamilton.
+
+“The purpose, I presume,” said Morton, with an affectation of
+indifference, “was to call them hither.”
+
+“So I understand,” answered the sentinel, who had spoke with the
+messengers.
+
+He is summoning a triumphant majority of the council, thought Morton to
+himself, for the purpose of sanctioning whatever action of atrocity he
+may determine upon, and thwarting opposition by authority. I must be
+speedy, or I shall lose my opportunity.
+
+When he entered the place of Lord Evandale’s confinement, he found him
+ironed, and reclining on a flock bed in the wretched garret of a
+miserable cottage. He was either in a slumber, or in deep meditation,
+when Morton entered, and turned on him, when aroused, a countenance so
+much reduced by loss of blood, want of sleep, and scarcity of food, that
+no one could have recognised in it the gallant soldier who had behaved
+with so much spirit at the skirmish of Loudon-hill. He displayed some
+surprise at the sudden entrance of Morton.
+
+“I am sorry to see you thus, my lord,” said that youthful leader.
+
+“I have heard you are an admirer of poetry,” answered the prisoner; “in
+that case, Mr Morton, you may remember these lines,--
+
+              ‘Stone walls do not a prison make,
+               Or iron bars a cage;
+               A free and quiet mind can take
+               These for a hermitage.’
+
+But, were my imprisonment less endurable, I am given to expect to-morrow
+a total enfranchisement.”
+
+“By death?” said Morton.
+
+“Surely,” answered Lord Evandale; “I have no other prospect. Your
+comrade, Burley, has already dipped his hand in the blood of men whose
+meanness of rank and obscurity of extraction might have saved them. I
+cannot boast such a shield from his vengeance, and I expect to meet its
+extremity.”
+
+“But Major Bellenden,” said Morton, “may surrender, in order to preserve
+your life.”
+
+“Never, while there is one man to defend the battlement, and that man has
+one crust to eat. I know his gallant resolution, and grieved should I be
+if he changed it for my sake.”
+
+Morton hastened to acquaint him with the mutiny among the dragoons, and
+their resolution to surrender the Castle, and put the ladies of the
+family, as well as the Major, into the hands of the enemy. Lord Evandale
+seemed at first surprised, and something incredulous, but immediately
+afterwards deeply affected.
+
+“What is to be done?” he said--“How is this misfortune to be averted?”
+
+“Hear me, my lord,” said Morton. “I believe you may not be unwilling to
+bear the olive branch between our master the King, and that part of his
+subjects which is now in arms, not from choice, but necessity.”
+
+“You construe me but justly,” said Lord Evandale; “but to what does this
+tend?”
+
+“Permit me, my lord”--continued Morton. “I will set you at liberty upon
+parole; nay, you may return to the Castle, and shall have a safe conduct
+for the ladies, the Major, and all who leave it, on condition of its
+instant surrender. In contributing to bring this about you will only
+submit to circumstances; for, with a mutiny in the garrison, and without
+provisions, it will be found impossible to defend the place twenty-four
+hours longer. Those, therefore, who refuse to accompany your lordship,
+must take their fate. You and your followers shall have a free pass to
+Edinburgh, or where-ever the Duke of Monmouth may be. In return for your
+liberty, we hope that you will recommend to the notice of his Grace, as
+Lieutenant-General of Scotland, this humble petition and remonstrance,
+containing the grievances which have occasioned this insurrection, a
+redress of which being granted, I will answer with my head, that the
+great body of the insurgents will lay down their arms.”
+
+Lord Evandale read over the paper with attention.
+
+“Mr Morton,” he said, “in my simple judgment, I see little objection that
+can be made to the measure here recommended; nay, farther, I believe, in
+many respects, they may meet the private sentiments of the Duke of
+Monmouth: and yet, to deal frankly with you, I have no hopes of their
+being granted, unless, in the first place, you were to lay down your
+arms.”
+
+“The doing so,” answered Morton, “would be virtually conceding that we
+had no right to take them up; and that, for one, I will never agree to.”
+
+“Perhaps it is hardly to be expected you should,” said Lord Evandale;
+“and yet on that point I am certain the negotiations will be wrecked. I
+am willing, however, having frankly told you my opinion, to do all in my
+power to bring about a reconciliation.”
+
+“It is all we can wish or expect,” replied Morton; “the issue is in God’s
+hands, who disposes the hearts of princes.--You accept, then, the safe
+conduct?”
+
+“Certainly,” answered Lord Evandale; “and if I do not enlarge upon the
+obligation incurred by your having saved my life a second time, believe
+that I do not feel it the less.”
+
+“And the garrison of Tillietudlem?” said Morton.
+
+“Shall be withdrawn as you propose,” answered the young nobleman. “I am
+sensible the Major will be unable to bring the mutineers to reason; and I
+tremble to think of the consequences, should the ladies and the brave old
+man be delivered up to this bloodthirsty ruffian, Burley.”
+
+“You are in that case free,” said Morton. “Prepare to mount on horseback;
+a few men whom I can trust shall attend you till you are in safety from
+our parties.”
+
+Leaving Lord Evandale in great surprise and joy at this unexpected
+deliverance, Morton hastened to get a few chosen men under arms and on
+horseback, each rider holding the rein of a spare horse. Jenny, who,
+while she partook of her refreshment, had contrived to make up her breach
+with Cuddie, rode on the left hand of that valiant cavalier. The tramp of
+their horses was soon heard under the window of Lord Evandale’s prison.
+Two men, whom he did not know, entered the apartment, disencumbered him
+of his fetters, and, conducting him down stairs, mounted him in the
+centre of the detachment. They set out at a round trot towards
+Tillietudlem.
+
+The moonlight was giving way to the dawn when they approached that
+ancient fortress, and its dark massive tower had just received the first
+pale colouring of the morning. The party halted at the Tower barrier, not
+venturing to approach nearer for fear of the fire of the place. Lord
+Evandale alone rode up to the gate, followed at a distance by Jenny
+Dennison. As they approached the gate, there was heard to arise in the
+court-yard a tumult, which accorded ill with the quiet serenity of a
+summer dawn. Cries and oaths were heard, a pistol-shot or two were
+discharged, and every thing announced that the mutiny had broken out. At
+this crisis Lord Evandale arrived at the gate where Halliday was
+sentinel. On hearing Lord Evandale’s voice, he instantly and gladly
+admitted him, and that nobleman arrived among the mutinous troopers like
+a man dropped from the clouds. They were in the act of putting their
+design into execution, of seizing the place into their own hands, and
+were about to disarm and overpower Major Bellenden and Harrison, and
+others of the Castle, who were offering the best resistance in their
+power.
+
+The appearance of Lord Evandale changed the scene. He seized Inglis by
+the collar, and, upbraiding him with his villainy, ordered two of his
+comrades to seize and bind him, assuring the others, that their only
+chance of impunity consisted in instant submission. He then ordered the
+men into their ranks. They obeyed. He commanded them to ground their
+arms. They hesitated; but the instinct of discipline, joined to their
+persuasion that the authority of their officer, so boldly exerted, must
+be supported by some forces without the gate, induced them to submit.
+
+“Take away those arms,” said Lord Evandale to the people of the Castle;
+“they shall not be restored until these men know better the use for which
+they are intrusted with them.--And now,” he continued, addressing the
+mutineers, “begone!--Make the best use of your time, and of a truce of
+three hours, which the enemy are contented to allow you. Take the road to
+Edinburgh, and meet me at the House-of-Muir. I need not bid you beware of
+committing violence by the way; you will not, in your present condition,
+provoke resentment for your own sakes. Let your punctuality show that you
+mean to atone for this morning’s business.”
+
+The disarmed soldiers shrunk in silence from the presence of their
+officer, and, leaving the Castle, took the road to the place of
+rendezvous, making such haste as was inspired by the fear of meeting with
+some detached party of the insurgents, whom their present defenceless
+condition, and their former violence, might inspire with thoughts of
+revenge. Inglis, whom Evandale destined for punishment, remained in
+custody. Halliday was praised for his conduct, and assured of succeeding
+to the rank of the culprit. These arrangements being hastily made, Lord
+Evandale accosted the Major, before whose eyes the scene had seemed to
+pass like the change of a dream.
+
+“My dear Major, we must give up the place.”
+
+“Is it even so?” said Major Bellenden. “I was in hopes you had brought
+reinforcements and supplies.”
+
+“Not a man--not a pound of meal,” answered Lord Evandale.
+
+“Yet I am blithe to see you,” returned the honest Major; “we were
+informed yesterday that these psalm-singing rascals had a plot on your
+life, and I had mustered the scoundrelly dragoons ten minutes ago in
+order to beat up Burley’s quarters and get you out of limbo, when the dog
+Inglis, instead of obeying me, broke out into open mutiny.--But what is
+to be done now?”
+
+“I have, myself, no choice,” said Lord Evandale; “I am a prisoner,
+released on parole, and bound for Edinburgh. You and the ladies must take
+the same route. I have, by the favour of a friend, a safe conduct and
+horses for you and your retinue--for God’s sake make haste--you cannot
+propose to hold out with seven or eight men, and without provisions--
+Enough has been done for honour, and enough to render the defence of the
+highest consequence to government. More were needless, as well as
+desperate. The English troops are arrived at Edinburgh, and will speedily
+move upon Hamilton. The possession of Tillietudlem by the rebels will be
+but temporary.”
+
+“If you think so, my lord,” said the veteran, with a reluctant sigh,--“I
+know you only advise what is honourable--if, then, you really think the
+case inevitable, I must submit; for the mutiny of these scoundrels would
+render it impossible to man the walls.--Gudyill, let the women call up
+their mistresses, and all be ready to march--But if I could believe that
+my remaining in these old walls, till I was starved to a mummy, could do
+the King’s cause the least service, old Miles Bellenden would not leave
+them while there was a spark of life in his body!”
+
+The ladies, already alarmed by the mutiny, now heard the determination of
+the Major, in which they readily acquiesced, though not without some
+groans and sighs on the part of Lady Margaret, which referred, as usual,
+to the _dejeune_; of his Most Sacred Majesty in the halls which were now
+to be abandoned to rebels. Hasty preparations were made for evacuating
+the Castle; and long ere the dawn was distinct enough for discovering
+objects with precision, the ladies, with Major Bellenden, Harrison,
+Gudyill, and the other domestics, were mounted on the led horses, and
+others which had been provided in the neighbourhood, and proceeded
+towards the north, still escorted by four of the insurgent horsemen. The
+rest of the party who had accompanied Lord Evandale from the hamlet, took
+possession of the deserted Castle, carefully forbearing all outrage or
+acts of plunder. And when the sun arose, the scarlet and blue colours of
+the Scottish Covenant floated from the Keep of Tillietudlem.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+               And, to my breast, a bodkin in her hand
+               Were worth a thousand daggers.
+                                             Marlow.
+
+The cavalcade which left the Castle of Tillietudlem, halted for a few
+minutes at the small town of Bothwell, after passing the outposts of the
+insurgents, to take some slight refreshments which their attendants had
+provided, and which were really necessary to persons who had suffered
+considerably by want of proper nourishment. They then pressed forward
+upon the road towards Edinburgh, amid the lights of dawn which were now
+rising on the horizon. It might have been expected, during the course of
+the journey, that Lord Evandale would have been frequently by the side of
+Miss Edith Bellenden. Yet, after his first salutations had been
+exchanged, and every precaution solicitously adopted which could serve
+for her accommodation, he rode in the van of the party with Major
+Bellenden, and seemed to abandon the charge of immediate attendance upon
+his lovely niece to one of the insurgent cavaliers, whose dark military
+cloak, with the large flapped hat and feather, which drooped over his
+face, concealed at once his figure and his features. They rode side by
+side in silence for more than two miles, when the stranger addressed Miss
+Bellenden in a tremulous and suppressed voice.
+
+“Miss Bellenden,” he said, “must have friends wherever she is known; even
+among those whose conduct she now disapproves. Is there any thing that
+such can do to show their respect for her, and their regret for her
+sufferings?”
+
+“Let them learn for their own sakes,” replied Edith, “to venerate the
+laws, and to spare innocent blood. Let them return to their allegiance,
+and I can forgive them all that I have suffered, were it ten times more.”
+
+“You think it impossible, then,” rejoined the cavalier, “for any one to
+serve in our ranks, having the weal of his country sincerely at heart,
+and conceiving himself in the discharge of a patriotic duty?”
+
+“It might be imprudent, while so absolutely in your power,” replied Miss
+Bellenden, “to answer that question.”
+
+“Not in the present instance, I plight you the word of a soldier,”
+ replied the horseman.
+
+“I have been taught candour from my birth,” said Edith; “and, if I am to
+speak at all, I must utter my real sentiments. God only can judge the
+heart--men must estimate intentions by actions. Treason, murder by the
+sword and by gibbet, the oppression of a private family such as ours, who
+were only in arms for the defence of the established government, and of
+our own property, are actions which must needs sully all that have
+accession to them, by whatever specious terms they may be gilded over.”
+
+“The guilt of civil war,” rejoined the horseman--“the miseries which it
+brings in its train, lie at the door of those who provoked it by illegal
+oppression, rather than of such as are driven to arms in order to assert
+their natural rights as freemen.”
+
+“That is assuming the question,” replied Edith, “which ought to be
+proved. Each party contends that they are right in point of principle,
+and therefore the guilt must lie with them who first drew the sword; as,
+in an affray, law holds those to be the criminals who are the first to
+have recourse to violence.”
+
+“Alas!” said the horseman, “were our vindication to rest there, how easy
+would it be to show that we have suffered with a patience which almost
+seemed beyond the power of humanity, ere we were driven by oppression
+into open resistance!--But I perceive,” he continued, sighing deeply,
+“that it is vain to plead before Miss Bellenden a cause which she has
+already prejudged, perhaps as much from her dislike of the persons as of
+the principles of those engaged in it.”
+
+“Pardon me,” answered Edith; “I have stated with freedom my opinion
+of the principles of the insurgents; of their persons I know
+nothing--excepting in one solitary instance.”
+
+“And that instance,” said the horseman, “has influenced your opinion of
+the whole body?”
+
+“Far from it,” said Edith; “he is--at least I once thought him--one in
+whose scale few were fit to be weighed--he is--or he seemed--one of early
+talent, high faith, pure morality, and warm affections. Can I approve of
+a rebellion which has made such a man, formed to ornament, to enlighten,
+and to defend his country, the companion of gloomy and ignorant fanatics,
+or canting hypocrites,--the leader of brutal clowns,--the brother-in-arms
+to banditti and highway murderers?--Should you meet such an one in your
+camp, tell him that Edith Bellenden has wept more over his fallen
+character, blighted prospects, and dishonoured name, than over the
+distresses of her own house,--and that she has better endured that famine
+which has wasted her cheek and dimmed her eye, than the pang of heart
+which attended the reflection by and through whom these calamities were
+inflicted.”
+
+As she thus spoke, she turned upon her companion a countenance, whose
+faded cheek attested the reality of her sufferings, even while it glowed
+with the temporary animation which accompanied her language. The horseman
+was not insensible to the appeal; he raised his hand to his brow with the
+sudden motion of one who feels a pang shoot along his brain, passed it
+hastily over his face, and then pulled the shadowing hat still deeper on
+his forehead. The movement, and the feelings which it excited, did not
+escape Edith, nor did she remark them without emotion.
+
+“And yet,” she said, “should the person of whom I speak seem to you too
+deeply affected by the hard opinion of--of--an early friend, say to him,
+that sincere repentance is next to innocence;--that, though fallen from a
+height not easily recovered, and the author of much mischief, because
+gilded by his example, he may still atone in some measure for the evil he
+has done.”
+
+“And in what manner?” asked the cavalier, in the same suppressed, and
+almost choked voice.
+
+“By lending his efforts to restore the blessings of peace to his
+distracted countrymen, and to induce the deluded rebels to lay down their
+arms. By saving their blood, he may atone for that which has been already
+spilt;--and he that shall be most active in accomplishing this great end,
+will best deserve the thanks of this age, and an honoured remembrance in
+the next.”
+
+“And in such a peace,” said her companion, with a firm voice, “Miss
+Bellenden would not wish, I think, that the interests of the people were
+sacrificed unreservedly to those of the crown?”
+
+“I am but a girl,” was the young lady’s reply; “and I scarce can speak on
+the subject without presumption. But, since I have gone so far, I will
+fairly add, I would wish to see a peace which should give rest to all
+parties, and secure the subjects from military rapine, which I detest as
+much as I do the means now adopted to resist it.”
+
+“Miss Bellenden,” answered Henry Morton, raising his face, and speaking
+in his natural tone, “the person who has lost such a highly-valued place
+in your esteem, has yet too much spirit to plead his cause as a criminal;
+and, conscious that he can no longer claim a friend’s interest in your
+bosom, he would be silent under your hard censure, were it not that he
+can refer to the honoured testimony of Lord Evandale, that his earnest
+wishes and most active exertions are, even now, directed to the
+accomplishment of such a peace as the most loyal cannot censure.”
+
+He bowed with dignity to Miss Bellenden, who, though her language
+intimated that she well knew to whom she had been speaking, probably had
+not expected that he would justify himself with so much animation. She
+returned his salute, confused and in silence. Morton then rode forward to
+the head of the party.
+
+“Henry Morton!” exclaimed Major Bellenden, surprised at the sudden
+apparition.
+
+“The same,” answered Morton; “who is sorry that he labours under the
+harsh construction of Major Bellenden and his family. He commits to my
+Lord Evandale,” he continued, turning towards the young nobleman, and
+bowing to him, “the charge of undeceiving his friends, both regarding the
+particulars of his conduct and the purity of his motives. Farewell, Major
+Bellenden--All happiness attend you and yours--May we meet again in
+happier and better times!”
+
+“Believe me,” said Lord Evandale, “your confidence, Mr Morton, is not
+misplaced; I will endeavour to repay the great services I have received
+from you by doing my best to place your character on its proper footing
+with Major Bellenden, and all whose esteem you value.”
+
+“I expected no less from your generosity, my lord,” said Morton.
+
+He then called his followers, and rode off along the heath in the
+direction of Hamilton, their feathers waving and their steel caps
+glancing in the beams of the rising sun. Cuddie Headrigg alone remained
+an instant behind his companions to take an affectionate farewell of
+Jenny Dennison, who had contrived, during this short morning’s ride, to
+re-establish her influence over his susceptible bosom. A straggling tree
+or two obscured, rather than concealed, their _tete-a-tete_, as they
+halted their horses to bid adieu.
+
+“Fare ye weel, Jenny,” said Cuddie, with a loud exertion of his lungs,
+intended perhaps to be a sigh, but rather resembling the intonation of a
+groan,--“Ye’ll think o’ puir Cuddie sometimes--an honest lad that lo’es
+ye, Jenny; ye’ll think o’ him now and then?”
+
+“Whiles--at brose-time,” answered the malicious damsel, unable either to
+suppress the repartee, or the arch smile which attended it.
+
+
+[Illustration: Whiles--at Brose-Time--pa098]
+
+
+Cuddie took his revenge as rustic lovers are wont, and as Jenny probably
+expected,--caught his mistress round the neck, kissed her cheeks and lips
+heartily, and then turned his horse and trotted after his master.
+
+“Deil’s in the fallow,” said Jenny, wiping her lips and adjusting her
+head-dress, “he has twice the spunk o’ Tam Halliday, after a’.--Coming,
+my leddy, coming--Lord have a care o’ us, I trust the auld leddy didna
+see us!”
+
+“Jenny,” said Lady Margaret, as the damsel came up, “was not that young
+man who commanded the party the same that was captain of the popinjay,
+and who was afterwards prisoner at Tillietudlem on the morning
+Claverhouse came there?”
+
+Jenny, happy that the query had no reference to her own little matters,
+looked at her young mistress, to discover, if possible, whether it was
+her cue to speak truth or not. Not being able to catch any hint to guide
+her, she followed her instinct as a lady’s maid, and lied.
+
+“I dinna believe it was him, my leddy,” said Jenny, as confidently as if
+she had been saying her catechism; “he was a little black man, that.”
+
+“You must have been blind, Jenny,” said the Major: “Henry Morton is tall
+and fair, and that youth is the very man.”
+
+“I had ither thing ado than be looking at him,” said Jenny, tossing her
+head; “he may be as fair as a farthing candle, for me.”
+
+“Is it not,” said Lady Margaret, “a blessed escape which we have made,
+out of the hands of so desperate and bloodthirsty a fanatic?”
+
+“You are deceived, madam,” said Lord Evandale; “Mr Morton merits such a
+title from no one, but least from us. That I am now alive, and that you
+are now on your safe retreat to your friends, instead of being prisoners
+to a real fanatical homicide, is solely and entirely owing to the prompt,
+active, and energetic humanity of this young gentleman.”
+
+He then went into a particular narrative of the events with which the
+reader is acquainted, dwelling upon the merits of Morton, and expatiating
+on the risk at which he had rendered them these important services, as if
+he had been a brother instead of a rival.
+
+“I were worse than ungrateful,” he said, “were I silent on the merits of
+the man who has twice saved my life.”
+
+“I would willingly think well of Henry Morton, my lord,” replied Major
+Bellenden; “and I own he has behaved handsomely to your lordship and to
+us; but I cannot have the same allowances which it pleases your lordship
+to entertain for his present courses.”
+
+“You are to consider,” replied Lord Evandale, “that he has been partly
+forced upon them by necessity; and I must add, that his principles,
+though differing in some degree from my own, are such as ought to command
+respect. Claverhouse, whose knowledge of men is not to be disputed, spoke
+justly of him as to his extraordinary qualities, but with prejudice, and
+harshly, concerning his principles and motives.”
+
+“You have not been long in learning all his extraordinary qualities, my
+lord,” answered Major Bellenden. “I, who have known him from boyhood,
+could, before this affair, have said much of his good principles and
+good-nature; but as to his high talents”--
+
+“They were probably hidden, Major,” replied the generous Lord Evandale,
+“even from himself, until circumstances called them forth; and, if I have
+detected them, it was only because our intercourse and conversation
+turned on momentous and important subjects. He is now labouring to bring
+this rebellion to an end, and the terms he has proposed are so moderate,
+that they shall not want my hearty recommendation.”
+
+“And have you hopes,” said Lady Margaret, “to accomplish a scheme so
+comprehensive?”
+
+“I should have, madam, were every whig as moderate as Morton, and every
+loyalist as disinterested as Major Bellenden. But such is the fanaticism
+and violent irritation of both parties, that I fear nothing will end this
+civil war save the edge of the sword.”
+
+It may be readily supposed, that Edith listened with the deepest interest
+to this conversation. While she regretted that she had expressed herself
+harshly and hastily to her lover, she felt a conscious and proud
+satisfaction that his character was, even in the judgment of his
+noble-minded rival, such as her own affection had once spoke it.
+
+“Civil feuds and domestic prejudices,” she said, “may render it necessary
+for me to tear his remembrance from my heart; but it is not small relief
+to know assuredly, that it is worthy of the place it has so long retained
+there.”
+
+While Edith was thus retracting her unjust resentment, her lover arrived
+at the camp of the insurgents, near Hamilton, which he found in
+considerable confusion. Certain advices had arrived that the royal army,
+having been recruited from England by a large detachment of the King’s
+Guards, were about to take the field. Fame magnified their numbers and
+their high state of equipment and discipline, and spread abroad other
+circumstances, which dismayed the courage of the insurgents. What favour
+they might have expected from Monmouth, was likely to be intercepted by
+the influence of those associated with him in command. His
+lieutenant-general was the celebrated General Thomas Dalzell, who, having
+practised the art of war in the then barbarous country of Russia, was as
+much feared for his cruelty and indifference to human life and human
+sufferings, as respected for his steady loyalty and undaunted valour.
+This man was second in command to Monmouth, and the horse were commanded
+by Claverhouse, burning with desire to revenge the death of his nephew,
+and his defeat at Drumclog. To these accounts was added the most
+formidable and terrific description of the train of artillery and the
+cavalry force with which the royal army took the field.
+
+     [Note:  Royal Army at Bothwell Bridge. A Cameronian muse was
+     awakened from slumber on this doleful occasion, and gave the
+     following account of the muster of the royal forces, in poetry
+     nearly as melancholy as the subject:--
+
+                    They marched east through Lithgow-town
+                    For to enlarge their forces;
+                    And sent for all the north-country
+                    To come, both foot and horses.
+
+                    Montrose did come and Athole both,
+                    And with them many more;
+                    And all the Highland Amorites
+                    That had been there before.
+
+                    The Lowdien Mallisha--Lothian Militia they
+                    Came with their coats of blew;
+                    Five hundred men from London came,
+                    Claid in a reddish hue.
+
+                    When they were assembled one and all,
+                    A full brigade were they;
+                    Like to a pack of hellish hounds,
+                    Roreing after their prey.
+
+                    When they were all provided well,
+                    In armour and amonition,
+                    Then thither wester did they come,
+                    Most cruel of intention.
+
+     The royalists celebrated their victory in stanzas of equal merit.
+     Specimens of both may be found in the curious collection of Fugitive
+     Scottish Poetry, principally of the Seventeenth Century, printed for
+     the Messrs Laing, Edinburgh.]
+
+Large bodies, composed of the Highland clans, having in language,
+religion, and manners, no connexion with the insurgents, had been
+summoned to join the royal army under their various chieftains; and these
+Amorites, or Philistines, as the insurgents termed them, came like eagles
+to the slaughter. In fact, every person who could ride or run at the
+King’s command, was summoned to arms, apparently with the purpose of
+forfeiting and fining such men of property whom their principles might
+deter from joining the royal standard, though prudence prevented them
+from joining that of the insurgent Presbyterians. In short, everyrumour
+tended to increase the apprehension among the insurgents, that the King’s
+vengeance had only been delayed in order that it might fall more certain
+and more heavy.
+
+Morton endeavoured to fortify the minds of the common people by pointing
+out the probable exaggeration of these reports, and by reminding them of
+the strength of their own situation, with an unfordable river in front,
+only passable by a long and narrow bridge. He called to their remembrance
+their victory over Claverhouse when their numbers were few, and then much
+worse disciplined and appointed for battle than now; showed them that the
+ground on which they lay afforded, by its undulation, and the thickets
+which intersected it, considerable protection against artillery, and even
+against cavalry, if stoutly defended; and that their safety, in fact,
+depended on their own spirit and resolution.
+
+But while Morton thus endeavoured to keep up the courage of the army at
+large, he availed himself of those discouraging rumours to endeavour to
+impress on the minds of the leaders the necessity of proposing to the
+government moderate terms of accommodation, while they were still
+formidable as commanding an unbroken and numerous army. He pointed out to
+them, that, in the present humour of their followers, it could hardly be
+expected that they would engage, with advantage, the well-appointed and
+regular force of the Duke of Monmouth; and that if they chanced, as was
+most likely, to be defeated and dispersed, the insurrection in which they
+had engaged, so far from being useful to the country, would be rendered
+the apology for oppressing it more severely.
+
+Pressed by these arguments, and feeling it equally dangerous to remain
+together, or to dismiss their forces, most of the leaders readily agreed,
+that if such terms could be obtained as had been transmitted to the Duke
+of Monmouth by the hands of Lord Evandale, the purpose for which they had
+taken up arms would be, in a great measure, accomplished. They then
+entered into similar resolutions, and agreed to guarantee the petition
+and remonstrance which had been drawn up by Morton. On the contrary,
+there were still several leaders, and those men whose influence with the
+people exceeded that of persons of more apparent consequence, who
+regarded every proposal of treaty which did not proceed on the basis of
+the Solemn League and Covenant of 1640, as utterly null and void,
+impious, and unchristian. These men diffused their feelings among the
+multitude, who had little foresight, and nothing to lose, and persuaded
+many that the timid counsellors who recommended peace upon terms short of
+the dethronement of the royal family, and the declared independence of
+the church with respect to the state, were cowardly labourers, who were
+about to withdraw their hands from the plough, and despicable trimmers,
+who sought only a specious pretext for deserting their brethren in arms.
+These contradictory opinions were fiercely argued in each tent of the
+insurgent army, or rather in the huts or cabins which served in the place
+of tents. Violence in language often led to open quarrels and blows, and
+the divisions into which the army of sufferers was rent served as too
+plain a presage of their future fate.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+               The curse of growing factions and divisions
+               Still vex your councils!
+                                   Venice Preserved.
+
+The prudence of Morton found sufficient occupation in stemming the
+furious current of these contending parties, when, two days after his
+return to Hamilton, he was visited by his friend and colleague, the
+Reverend Mr Poundtext, flying, as he presently found, from the face of
+John Balfour of Burley, whom he left not a little incensed at the share
+he had taken in the liberation of Lord Evandale. When the worthy divine
+had somewhat recruited his spirits, after the hurry and fatigue of his
+journey, he proceeded to give Morton an account of what had passed in the
+vicinity of Tillietudlem after the memorable morning of his departure.
+
+The night march of Morton had been accomplished with such dexterity,
+and the men were so faithful to their trust, that Burley received no
+intelligence of what had happened until the morning was far advanced.
+His first enquiry was, whether Macbriar and Kettledrummle had arrived,
+agreeably to the summons which he had dispatched at midnight. Macbriar
+had come, and Kettledrummle, though a heavy traveller, might, he was
+informed, be instantly expected. Burley then dispatched a messenger to
+Morton’s quarters to summon him to an immediate council. The messenger
+returned with news that he had left the place. Poundtext was next
+summoned; but he thinking, as he said himself, that it was ill dealing
+with fractious folk, had withdrawn to his own quiet manse, preferring a
+dark ride, though he had been on horseback the whole preceding day, to a
+renewal in the morning of a controversy with Burley, whose ferocity
+overawed him when unsupported by the firmness of Morton. Burley’s next
+enquiries were directed after Lord Evandale; and great was his rage when
+he learned that he had been conveyed away over night by a party of the
+marksmen of Milnwood, under the immediate command of Henry Morton
+himself.
+
+“The villain!” exclaimed Burley, addressing himself to Macbriar; “the
+base, mean-spirited traitor, to curry favour for himself with the
+government, hath set at liberty the prisoner taken by my own right hand,
+through means of whom, I have little doubt, the possession of the place
+of strength which hath wrought us such trouble, might now have been in
+our hands!”
+
+“But is it not in our hands?” said Macbriar, looking up towards the Keep
+of the Castle; “and are not these the colours of the Covenant that float
+over its walls?”
+
+“A stratagem--a mere trick,” said Burley, “an insult over our
+disappointment, intended to aggravate and embitter our spirits.”
+
+He was interrupted by the arrival of one of Morton’s followers, sent to
+report to him the evacuation of the place, and its occupation by the
+insurgent forces. Burley was rather driven to fury than reconciled by the
+news of this success.
+
+“I have watched,” he said--“I have fought--I have plotted--I have striven
+for the reduction of this place--I have forborne to seek to head
+enterprises of higher command and of higher honour--I have narrowed their
+outgoings, and cut off the springs, and broken the staff of bread within
+their walls; and when the men were about to yield themselves to my hand,
+that their sons might be bondsmen, and their daughters a laughing-stock
+to our whole camp, cometh this youth, without a beard on his chin, and
+takes it on him to thrust his sickle into the harvest, and to rend the
+prey from the spoiler! Surely the labourer is worthy of his hire, and the
+city, with its captives, should be given to him that wins it?”
+
+“Nay,” said Macbriar, who was surprised at the degree of agitation which
+Balfour displayed, “chafe not thyself because of the ungodly. Heaven will
+use its own instruments; and who knows but this youth”--
+
+“Hush! hush!” said Burley; “do not discredit thine own better judgment.
+It was thou that first badest me beware of this painted sepulchre--this
+lacquered piece of copper, that passed current with me for gold. It fares
+ill, even with the elect, when they neglect the guidance of such pious
+pastors as thou. But our carnal affections will mislead us--this
+ungrateful boy’s father was mine ancient friend. They must be as earnest
+in their struggles as thou, Ephraim Macbriar, that would shake themselves
+clear of the clogs and chains of humanity.”
+
+This compliment touched the preacher in the most sensible part; and
+Burley deemed, therefore, he should find little difficulty in moulding
+his opinions to the support of his own views, more especially as they
+agreed exactly in their high-strained opinions of church government.
+
+“Let us instantly,” he said, “go up to the Tower; there is that among the
+records in yonder fortress, which, well used as I can use it, shall be
+worth to us a valiant leader and an hundred horsemen.”
+
+“But will such be the fitting aids of the children of the Covenant?” said
+the preacher. “We have already among us too many who hunger after lands,
+and silver and gold, rather than after the Word; it is not by such that
+our deliverance shall be wrought out.”
+
+“Thou errest,” said Burley; “we must work by means, and these worldly men
+shall be our instruments. At all events, the Moabitish woman shall be
+despoiled of her inheritance, and neither the malignant Evandale, nor the
+erastian Morton, shall possess yonder castle and lands, though they may
+seek in marriage the daughter thereof.”
+
+So saying, he led the way to Tillietudlem, where he seized upon the plate
+and other valuables for the use of the army, ransacked the charter-room,
+and other receptacles for family papers, and treated with contempt the
+remonstrances of those who reminded him, that the terms granted to the
+garrison had guaranteed respect to private property.
+
+Burley and Macbriar, having established themselves in their new
+acquisition, were joined by Kettledrummle in the course of the day, and
+also by the Laird of Langcale, whom that active divine had contrived to
+seduce, as Poundtext termed it, from the pure light in which he had been
+brought up. Thus united, they sent to the said Poundtext an invitation,
+or rather a summons, to attend a council at Tillietudlem. He remembered,
+however, that the door had an iron grate, and the Keep a dungeon, and
+resolved not to trust himself with his incensed colleagues. He therefore
+retreated, or rather fled, to Hamilton, with the tidings, that Burley,
+Macbriar, and Kettledrummle, were coming to Hamilton as soon as they
+could collect a body of Cameronians sufficient to overawe the rest of the
+army.
+
+“And ye see,” concluded Poundtext, with a deep sigh, “that they will then
+possess a majority in the council; for Langcale, though he has always
+passed for one of the honest and rational party, cannot be suitably or
+preceesely termed either fish, or flesh, or gude red-herring--whoever has
+the stronger party has Langcale.”
+
+Thus concluded the heavy narrative of honest Poundtext, who sighed
+deeply, as he considered the danger in which he was placed betwixt
+unreasonable adversaries amongst themselves and the common enemy from
+without. Morton exhorted him to patience, temper, and composure; informed
+him of the good hope he had of negotiating for peace and indemnity
+through means of Lord Evandale, and made out to him a very fair prospect
+that he should again return to his own parchment-bound Calvin, his
+evening pipe of tobacco, and his noggin of inspiring ale, providing
+always he would afford his effectual support and concurrence to the
+measures which he, Morton, had taken for a general pacification.
+
+     [Note:  Moderate Presbyterians. The author does not, by any means,
+     desire that Poundtext should be regarded as a just representation of
+     the moderate presbyterians, among whom were many ministers whose
+     courage was equal to their good sense and sound views of religion.
+     Were he to write the tale anew, he would probably endeavour to give
+     the character a higher turn. It is certain, however, that the
+     Cameronians imputed to their opponents in opinion concerning the
+     Indulgence, or others of their strained and fanatical notions, a
+     disposition not only to seek their own safety, but to enjoy
+     themselves. Hamilton speaks of three clergymen of this description
+     as follows:--
+
+     “They pretended great zeal against the Indulgence; but alas! that
+     was all their practice, otherwise being but very gross, which I
+     shall but hint at in short. When great Cameron and those with him
+     were taking many a cold blast and storm in the fields and among the
+     cot-houses in Scotland, these three had for the most part their
+     residence in Glasgow, where they found good quarter and a full
+     table, which I doubt not but some bestowed upon them from real
+     affection to the Lord’s cause; and when these three were together,
+     their greatest work was who should make the finest and sharpest
+     roundel, and breathe the quickest jests upon one another, and to
+     tell what valiant acts they were to do, and who could laugh loudest
+     and most heartily among them; and when at any time they came out to
+     the country, whatever other things they had, they were careful each
+     of them to have a great flask of brandy with them, which was very
+     heavy to some, particularly to Mr Cameron, Mr Cargill, and Henry
+     Hall--I shall name no more.”--Faithful Contendings, p. 198.]
+
+Thus backed and comforted, Poundtext resolved magnanimously to await the
+coming of the Cameronians to the general rendezvous.
+
+Burley and his confederates had drawn together a considerable body of
+these sectaries, amounting to a hundred horse and about fifteen hundred
+foot, clouded and severe in aspect, morose and jealous in communication,
+haughty of heart, and confident, as men who believed that the pale of
+salvation was open for them exclusively; while all other Christians,
+however slight were the shades of difference of doctrine from their own,
+were in fact little better than outcasts or reprobates. These men entered
+the presbyterian camp, rather as dubious and suspicious allies, or
+possibly antagonists, than as men who were heartily embarked in the same
+cause, and exposed to the same dangers, with their more moderate brethren
+in arms. Burley made no private visits to his colleagues, and held no
+communication with them on the subject of the public affairs, otherwise
+than by sending a dry invitation to them to attend a meeting of the
+general council for that evening.
+
+On the arrival of Morton and Poundtext at the place of assembly, they
+found their brethren already seated. Slight greeting passed between them,
+and it was easy to see that no amicable conference was intended by those
+who convoked the council. The first question was put by Macbriar, the
+sharp eagerness of whose zeal urged him to the van on all occasions. He
+desired to know by whose authority the malignant, called Lord Evandale,
+had been freed from the doom of death, justly denounced against him.
+
+“By my authority and Mr Morton’s,” replied Poundtext; who, besides being
+anxious to give his companion a good opinion of his courage, confided
+heartily in his support, and, moreover, had much less fear of
+encountering one of his own profession, and who confined himself to the
+weapons of theological controversy, in which Poundtext feared no man,
+than of entering into debate with the stern homicide Balfour.
+
+“And who, brother,” said Kettledrummle, “who gave you authority to
+interpose in such a high matter?”
+
+“The tenor of our commission,” answered Poundtext, “gives us authority to
+bind and to loose. If Lord Evandale was justly doomed to die by the voice
+of one of our number, he was of a surety lawfully redeemed from death by
+the warrant of two of us.”
+
+“Go to, go to,” said Burley; “we know your motives; it was to send that
+silkworm--that gilded trinket--that embroidered trifle of a lord, to bear
+terms of peace to the tyrant.”
+
+“It was so,” replied Morton, who saw his companion begin to flinch before
+the fierce eye of Balfour--“it was so; and what then?--Are we to plunge
+the nation in endless war, in order to pursue schemes which are equally
+wild, wicked, and unattainable?”
+
+“Hear him!” said Balfour; “he blasphemeth.”
+
+“It is false,” said Morton; “they blaspheme who pretend to expect
+miracles, and neglect the use of the human means with which Providence
+has blessed them. I repeat it--Our avowed object is the re-establishment
+of peace on fair and honourable terms of security to our religion and our
+liberty. We disclaim any desire to tyrannize over those of others.”
+
+The debate would now have run higher than ever, but they were interrupted
+by intelligence that the Duke of Monmouth had commenced his march towards
+the west, and was already advanced half way from Edinburgh. This news
+silenced their divisions for the moment, and it was agreed that the next
+day should be held as a fast of general humiliation for the sins of the
+land; that the Reverend Mr Poundtext should preach to the army in the
+morning, and Kettledrummle in the afternoon; that neither should touch
+upon any topics of schism or of division, but animate the soldiers to
+resist to the blood, like brethren in a good cause. This healing overture
+having been agreed to, the moderate party ventured upon another proposal,
+confiding that it would have the support of Langcale, who looked
+extremely blank at the news which they had just received, and might be
+supposed reconverted to moderate measures. It was to be presumed, they
+said, that since the King had not intrusted the command of his forces
+upon the present occasion to any of their active oppressors, but, on the
+contrary, had employed a nobleman distinguished by gentleness of temper,
+and a disposition favourable to their cause, there must be some better
+intention entertained towards them than they had yet experienced. They
+contended, that it was not only prudent but necessary to ascertain, from
+a communication with the Duke of Monmouth, whether he was not charged
+with some secret instructions in their favour. This could only be learned
+by dispatching an envoy to his army.
+
+“And who will undertake the task?” said Burley, evading a proposal too
+reasonable to be openly resisted--“Who will go up to their camp, knowing
+that John Grahame of Claverhouse hath sworn to hang up whomsoever we
+shall dispatch towards them, in revenge of the death of the young man his
+nephew?”
+
+“Let that be no obstacle,” said Morton; “I will with pleasure encounter
+any risk attached to the bearer of your errand.”
+
+“Let him go,” said Balfour, apart to Macbriar; “our councils will be well
+rid of his presence.”
+
+The motion, therefore, received no contradiction even from those who were
+expected to have been most active in opposing it; and it was agreed that
+Henry Morton should go to the camp of the Duke of Monmouth, in order to
+discover upon what terms the insurgents would be admitted to treat with
+him. As soon as his errand was made known, several of the more moderate
+party joined in requesting him to make terms upon the footing of the
+petition intrusted to Lord Evandale’s hands; for the approach of the
+King’s army spread a general trepidation, by no means allayed by the high
+tone assumed by the Cameronians, which had so little to support it,
+excepting their own headlong zeal. With these instructions, and with
+Cuddie as his attendant, Morton set forth towards the royal camp, at all
+the risks which attend those who assume the office of mediator during the
+heat of civil discord.
+
+Morton had not proceeded six or seven miles, before he perceived that he
+was on the point of falling in with the van of the royal forces; and, as
+he ascended a height, saw all the roads in the neighbourhood occupied by
+armed men marching in great order towards Bothwell-muir, an open common,
+on which they proposed to encamp for that evening, at the distance of
+scarcely two miles from the Clyde, on the farther side of which river the
+army of the insurgents was encamped. He gave himself up to the first
+advanced-guard of cavalry which he met, as bearer of a flag of truce, and
+communicated his desire to obtain access to the Duke of Monmouth. The
+non-commissioned officer who commanded the party made his report to his
+superior, and he again to another in still higher command, and both
+immediately rode to the spot where Morton was detained.
+
+“You are but losing your time, my friend, and risking your life,” said
+one of them, addressing Morton; “the Duke of Monmouth will receive no
+terms from traitors with arms in their hands, and your cruelties have
+been such as to authorize retaliation of every kind. Better trot your nag
+back and save his mettle to-day, that he may save your life to-morrow.”
+
+“I cannot think,” said Morton, “that even if the Duke of Monmouth should
+consider us as criminals, he would condemn so large a body of his
+fellow-subjects without even hearing what they have to plead for
+themselves. On my part I fear nothing. I am conscious of having consented
+to, or authorized, no cruelty, and the fear of suffering innocently for
+the crimes of others shall not deter me from executing my commission.”
+
+The two officers looked at each other.
+
+“I have an idea,” said the younger, “that this is the young man of whom
+Lord Evandale spoke.”
+
+“Is my Lord Evandale in the army?” said Morton.
+
+“He is not,” replied the officer; “we left him at Edinburgh, too much
+indisposed to take the field.--Your name, sir, I presume, is Henry
+Morton?”
+
+“It is, sir,” answered Morton.
+
+“We will not oppose your seeing the Duke, sir,” said the officer, with
+more civility of manner; “but you may assure yourself it will be to no
+purpose; for, were his Grace disposed to favour your people, others are
+joined in commission with him who will hardly consent to his doing so.”
+
+“I shall be sorry to find it thus,” said Morton; “but my duty requires
+that I should persevere in my desire to have an interview with him.”
+
+“Lumley,” said the superior officer, “let the Duke know of Mr Morton’s
+arrival, and remind his Grace that this is the person of whom Lord
+Evandale spoke so highly.”
+
+The officer returned with a message that the General could not see Mr
+Morton that evening, but would receive him by times in the ensuing
+morning. He was detained in a neighbouring cottage all night, but treated
+with civility, and every thing provided for his accommodation. Early on
+the next morning the officer he had first seen came to conduct him to his
+audience.
+
+The army was drawn out, and in the act of forming column for march, or
+attack. The Duke was in the centre, nearly a mile from the place where
+Morton had passed the night. In riding towards the General, he had an
+opportunity of estimating the force which had been assembled for the
+suppression of the hasty and ill-concerted insurrection. There were three
+or four regiments of English, the flower of Charles’s army--there were
+the Scottish Life-Guards, burning with desire to revenge their late
+defeat--other Scottish regiments of regulars were also assembled, and a
+large body of cavalry, consisting partly of gentlemen-volunteers, partly
+of the tenants of the crown who did military duty for their fiefs. Morton
+also observed several strong parties of Highlanders drawn from the points
+nearest to the Lowland frontiers, a people, as already mentioned,
+particularly obnoxious to the western whigs, and who hated and despised
+them in the same proportion. These were assembled under their chiefs, and
+made part of this formidable array. A complete train of field-artillery
+accompanied these troops; and the whole had an air so imposing, that it
+seemed nothing short of an actual miracle could prevent the ill-equipped,
+ill-modelled, and tumultuary army of the insurgents from being utterly
+destroyed. The officer who accompanied Morton endeavoured to gather from
+his looks the feelings with which this splendid and awful parade of
+military force had impressed him. But, true to the cause he had espoused,
+he laboured successfully to prevent the anxiety which he felt from
+appearing in his countenance, and looked around him on the warlike
+display as on a sight which he expected, and to which he was indifferent.
+
+“You see the entertainment prepared for you,” said the officers.
+
+“If I had no appetite for it,” replied Morton, “I should not have been
+accompanying you at this moment. But I shall be better pleased with a
+more peaceful regale, for the sake of all parties.”
+
+As they spoke thus, they approached the commander-in-chief, who,
+surrounded by several officers, was seated upon a knoll commanding an
+extensive prospect of the distant country, and from which could be easily
+discovered the windings of the majestic Clyde, and the distant camp of
+the insurgents on the opposite bank. The officers of the royal army
+appeared to be surveying the ground, with the purpose of directing an
+immediate attack. When Captain Lumley, the officer who accompanied
+Morton, had whispered in Monmouth’s ear his name and errand, the Duke
+made a signal for all around him to retire, excepting only two general
+officers of distinction. While they spoke together in whispers for a few
+minutes before Morton was permitted to advance, he had time to study the
+appearance of the persons with whom he was to treat.
+
+It was impossible for any one to look upon the Duke of Monmouth without
+being captivated by his personal graces and accomplishments, of which the
+great High-Priest of all the Nine afterwards recorded--
+
+“Whate’er he did was done with so much ease, In him alone ’twas natural
+to please; His motions all accompanied with grace, And Paradise was
+open’d in his face.” Yet to a strict observer, the manly beauty of
+Monmouth’s face was occasionally rendered less striking by an air of
+vacillation and uncertainty, which seemed to imply hesitation and doubt
+at moments when decisive resolution was most necessary.
+
+Beside him stood Claverhouse, whom we have already fully described, and
+another general officer whose appearance was singularly striking. His
+dress was of the antique fashion of Charles the First’s time, and
+composed of shamoy leather, curiously slashed, and covered with antique
+lace and garniture. His boots and spurs might be referred to the same
+distant period. He wore a breastplate, over which descended a grey beard
+of venerable length, which he cherished as a mark of mourning for Charles
+the First, having never shaved since that monarch was brought to the
+scaffold. His head was uncovered, and almost perfectly bald. His high and
+wrinkled forehead, piercing grey eyes, and marked features, evinced age
+unbroken by infirmity, and stern resolution unsoftened by humanity. Such
+is the outline, however feebly expressed, of the celebrated General
+Thomas Dalzell,
+
+     [Note:  Usually called Tom Dalzell. In Crichton’s Memoirs, edited by
+     Swift, where a particular account of this remarkable person’s dress
+     and habits is given, he is said never to have worn boots. The
+     following account of his rencounter with John Paton of Meadowhead,
+     showed, that in action at least he wore pretty stout ones, unless
+     the reader be inclined to believe in the truth of his having a
+     charm, which made him proof against lead.
+
+     “Dalzell,” says Paton’s biographer, “advanced the whole left wing of
+     his army on Colonel Wallace’s right. Here Captain Paton behaved with
+     great courage and gallantry. Dalzell, knowing him in the former
+     wars, advanced upon him himself, thinking to take him prisoner. Upon
+     his approach, each presented his pistol. On their first discharge,
+     Captain Paton, perceiving his pistol ball to hop upon Dalzell’s
+     boots, and knowing what was the cause, (he having proof,) put his
+     hand in his pocket for some small pieces of silver he had there for
+     the purpose, and put one of them into his other pistol. But Dalzell,
+     having his eye upon him in the meanwhile, retired behind his own
+     man, who by that means was slain.”]
+
+a man more feared and hated by the whigs than even Claverhouse himself,
+and who executed the same violences against them out of a detestation of
+their persons, or perhaps an innate severity of temper, which Grahame
+only resorted to on political accounts, as the best means of intimidating
+the followers of presbytery, and of destroying that sect entirely.
+
+The presence of these two generals, one of whom he knew by person, and
+the other by description, seemed to Morton decisive of the fate of his
+embassy. But, notwithstanding his youth and inexperience, and the
+unfavourable reception which his proposals seemed likely to meet with, he
+advanced boldly towards them upon receiving a signal to that purpose,
+determined that the cause of his country, and of those with whom he had
+taken up arms, should suffer nothing from being intrusted to him.
+Monmouth received him with the graceful courtesy which attended even his
+slightest actions; Dalzell regarded him with a stern, gloomy, and
+impatient frown; and Claverhouse, with a sarcastic smile and inclination
+of his head, seemed to claim him as an old acquaintance.
+
+“You come, sir, from these unfortunate people, now assembled in arms,”
+ said the Duke of Monmouth, “and your name, I believe, is Morton; will you
+favour us with the pupport of your errand?”
+
+“It is contained, my lord,” answered Morton, “in a paper, termed a
+Remonstrance and Supplication, which my Lord Evandale has placed, I
+presume, in your Grace’s hands?”
+
+“He has done so, sir,” answered the Duke; “and I understand, from Lord
+Evandale, that Mr Morton has behaved in these unhappy matters with much
+temperance and generosity, for which I have to request his acceptance of
+my thanks.”
+
+Here Morton observed Dalzell shake his head indignantly, and whisper
+something into Claverhouse’s ear, who smiled in return, and elevated his
+eyebrows, but in a degree so slight as scarce to be perceptible. The
+Duke, taking the petition from his pocket, proceeded, obviously
+struggling between the native gentleness of his own disposition, and
+perhaps his conviction that the petitioners demanded no more than their
+rights, and the desire, on the other hand, of enforcing the king’s
+authority, and complying with the sterner opinions of the colleagues in
+office, who had been assigned for the purpose of controlling as well as
+advising him.
+
+“There are, Mr Morton, in this paper, proposals, as to the abstract
+propriety of which I must now waive delivering any opinion. Some of them
+appear to me reasonable and just; and, although I have no express
+instructions from the King upon the subject, yet I assure you, Mr Morton,
+and I pledge my honour, that I will interpose in your behalf, and use my
+utmost influence to procure you satisfaction from his Majesty. But you
+must distinctly understand, that I can only treat with supplicants, not
+with rebels; and, as a preliminary to every act of favour on my side, I
+must insist upon your followers laying down their arms and dispersing
+themselves.”
+
+“To do so, my Lord Duke,” replied Morton, undauntedly, “were to
+acknowledge ourselves the rebels that our enemies term us. Our swords are
+drawn for recovery of a birthright wrested from us; your Grace’s
+moderation and good sense has admitted the general justice of our
+demand,--a demand which would never have been listened to had it not been
+accompanied with the sound of the trumpet. We cannot, therefore, and dare
+not, lay down our arms, even on your Grace’s assurance of indemnity,
+unless it were accompanied with some reasonable prospect of the redress
+of the wrongs which we complain of.”
+
+“Mr Morton,” replied the Duke, “you are young, but you must have seen
+enough of the world to perceive, that requests, by no means dangerous or
+unreasonable in themselves, may become so by the way in which they are
+pressed and supported.”
+
+“We may reply, my lord,” answered Morton, “that this disagreeable mode
+has not been resorted to until all others have failed.”
+
+“Mr Morton,” said the Duke, “I must break this conference short. We are
+in readiness to commence the attack; yet I will suspend it for an hour,
+until you can communicate my answer to the insurgents. If they please to
+disperse their followers, lay down their arms, and send a peaceful
+deputation to me, I will consider myself bound in honour to do all I can
+to procure redress of their grievances; if not, let them stand on their
+guard and expect the consequences.--I think, gentlemen,” he added,
+turning to his two colleagues, “this is the utmost length to which I can
+stretch my instructions in favour of these misguided persons?”
+
+“By my faith,” answered Dalzell, suddenly, “and it is a length to which
+my poor judgment durst not have stretched them, considering I had both
+the King and my conscience to answer to! But, doubtless, your Grace knows
+more of the King’s private mind than we, who have only the letter of our
+instructions to look to.”
+
+Monmouth blushed deeply. “You hear,” he said, addressing Morton, “General
+Dalzell blames me for the length which I am disposed to go in your
+favour.”
+
+“General Dalzell’s sentiments, my lord,” replied Morton, “are such as we
+expected from him; your Grace’s such as we were prepared to hope you
+might please to entertain. Indeed I cannot help adding, that, in the case
+of the absolute submission upon which you are pleased to insist, it might
+still remain something less than doubtful how far, with such counsellors
+around the King, even your Grace’s intercession might procure us
+effectual relief. But I will communicate to our leaders your Grace’s
+answer to our supplication; and, since we cannot obtain peace, we must
+bid war welcome as well as we may.”
+
+“Good morning, sir,” said the Duke; “I suspend the movements of attack
+for one hour, and for one hour only. If you have an answer to return
+within that space of time, I will receive it here, and earnestly entreat
+it may be such as to save the effusion of blood.”
+
+At this moment another smile of deep meaning passed between Dalzell and
+Claverhouse. The Duke observed it, and repeated his words with great
+dignity.
+
+“Yes, gentlemen, I said I trusted the answer might be such as would save
+the effusion of blood. I hope the sentiment neither needs your scorn, nor
+incurs your displeasure.”
+
+Dalzell returned the Duke’s frown with a stern glance, but made no
+answer. Claverhouse, his lip just curled with an ironical smile, bowed,
+and said, “It was not for him to judge the propriety of his Grace’s
+sentiments.”
+
+The Duke made a signal to Morton to withdraw. He obeyed; and, accompanied
+by his former escort, rode slowly through the army to return to the camp
+of the non-conformists. As he passed the fine corps of Life-Guards, he
+found Claverhouse was already at their head. That officer no sooner saw
+Morton, than he advanced and addressed him with perfect politeness of
+manner.
+
+“I think this is not the first time I have seen Mr Morton of Milnwood?”
+
+“It is not Colonel Grahame’s fault,” said Morton, smiling sternly, “that
+he or any one else should be now incommoded by my presence.”
+
+“Allow me at least to say,” replied Claverhouse, “that Mr Morton’s
+present situation authorizes the opinion I have entertained of him, and
+that my proceedings at our last meeting only squared to my duty.”
+
+“To reconcile your actions to your duty, and your duty to your
+conscience, is your business, Colonel Grahame, not mine,” said Morton,
+justly offended at being thus, in a manner, required to approve of the
+sentence under which he had so nearly suffered.
+
+“Nay, but stay an instant,” said Claverhouse; “Evandale insists that I
+have some wrongs to acquit myself of in your instance. I trust I shall
+always make some difference between a high-minded gentleman, who, though
+misguided, acts upon generous principles, and the crazy fanatical clowns
+yonder, with the bloodthirsty assassins who head them. Therefore, if they
+do not disperse upon your return, let me pray you instantly come over to
+our army and surrender yourself, for, be assured, they cannot stand our
+assault for half an hour. If you will be ruled and do this, be sure to
+enquire for me. Monmouth, strange as it may seem, cannot protect
+you--Dalzell will not--I both can and will; and I have promised to
+Evandale to do so if you will give me an opportunity.”
+
+“I should owe Lord Evandale my thanks,” answered Morton, coldly, “did not
+his scheme imply an opinion that I might be prevailed on to desert those
+with whom I am engaged. For you, Colonel Grahame, if you will honour me
+with a different species of satisfaction, it is probable, that, in an
+hour’s time, you will find me at the west end of Bothwell Bridge with my
+sword in my hand.”
+
+“I shall be happy to meet you there,” said Claverhouse, “but still more
+so should you think better on my first proposal.”
+
+They then saluted and parted.
+
+“That is a pretty lad, Lumley,” said Claverhouse, addressing himself to
+the other officer; “but he is a lost man--his blood be upon his head.”
+
+So saying, he addressed himself to the task of preparation for instant
+battle.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+               But, hark! the tent has changed its voice,
+               There’s peace and rest nae langer.
+                                                  Burns.
+
+               The Lowdien Mallisha they
+               Came with their coats of blew;
+               Five hundred men from London came,
+               Claid in a reddish hue.
+                                        Bothwell Lines.
+
+When Morton had left the well-ordered outposts of the regular army, and
+arrived at those which were maintained by his own party, he could not but
+be peculiarly sensible of the difference of discipline, and entertain a
+proportional degree of fear for the consequences. The same discords which
+agitated the counsels of the insurgents, raged even among their meanest
+followers; and their picquets and patrols were more interested and
+occupied in disputing the true occasion and causes of wrath, and defining
+the limits of Erastian heresy, than in looking out for and observing the
+motions of their enemies, though within hearing of the royal drums and
+trumpets.
+
+There was a guard, however, of the insurgent army, posted at the long and
+narrow bridge of Bothwell, over which the enemy must necessarily advance
+to the attack; but, like the others, they were divided and disheartened;
+and, entertaining the idea that they were posted on a desperate service,
+they even meditated withdrawing themselves to the main body. This would
+have been utter ruin; for, on the defence or loss of this pass the
+fortune of the day was most likely to depend. All beyond the bridge was a
+plain open field, excepting a few thickets of no great depth, and,
+consequently, was ground on which the undisciplined forces of the
+insurgents, deficient as they were in cavalry, and totally unprovided
+with artillery, were altogether unlikely to withstand the shock of
+regular troops.
+
+Morton, therefore, viewed the pass carefully, and formed the hope, that
+by occupying two or three houses on the left bank of the river, with the
+copse and thickets of alders and hazels that lined its side, and by
+blockading the passage itself, and shutting the gates of a portal, which,
+according to the old fashion, was built on the central arch of the bridge
+of Bothwell, it might be easily defended against a very superior force.
+He issued directions accordingly, and commanded the parapets of the
+bridge, on the farther side of the portal, to be thrown down, that they
+might afford no protection to the enemy when they should attempt the
+passage. Morton then conjured the party at this important post to be
+watchful and upon their guard, and promised them a speedy and strong
+reinforcement. He caused them to advance videttes beyond the river to
+watch the progress of the enemy, which outposts he directed should be
+withdrawn to the left bank as soon as they approached; finally, he
+charged them to send regular information to the main body of all that
+they should observe. Men under arms, and in a situation of danger, are
+usually sufficiently alert in appreciating the merit of their officers.
+Morton’s intelligence and activity gained the confidence of these men,
+and with better hope and heart than before, they began to fortify their
+position in the manner he recommended, and saw him depart with three loud
+cheers.
+
+Morton now galloped hastily towards the main body of the insurgents, but
+was surprised and shocked at the scene of confusion and clamour which it
+exhibited, at the moment when good order and concord were of such
+essential consequence. Instead of being drawn up in line of battle, and
+listening to the commands of their officers, they were crowding together
+in a confused mass, that rolled and agitated itself like the waves of the
+sea, while a thousand tongues spoke, or rather vociferated, and not a
+single ear was found to listen. Scandalized at a scene so extraordinary,
+Morton endeavoured to make his way through the press to learn, and, if
+possible, to remove, the cause of this so untimely disorder. While he is
+thus engaged, we shall make the reader acquainted with that which he was
+some time in discovering.
+
+The insurgents had proceeded to hold their day of humiliation, which,
+agreeably to the practice of the puritans during the earlier civil war,
+they considered as the most effectual mode of solving all difficulties,
+and waiving all discussions. It was usual to name an ordinary week-day
+for this purpose, but on this occasion the Sabbath itself was adopted,
+owing to the pressure of the time and the vicinity of the enemy. A
+temporary pulpit, or tent, was erected in the middle of the encampment;
+which, according to the fixed arrangement, was first to be occupied by
+the Reverend Peter Poundtext, to whom the post of honour was assigned, as
+the eldest clergyman present. But as the worthy divine, with slow and
+stately steps, was advancing towards the rostrum which had been prepared
+for him, he was prevented by the unexpected apparition of Habakkuk
+Mucklewrath, the insane preacher, whose appearance had so much startled
+Morton at the first council of the insurgents after their victory at
+Loudon-hill. It is not known whether he was acting under the influence
+and instigation of the Cameronians, or whether he was merely compelled by
+his own agitated imagination, and the temptation of a vacant pulpit
+before him, to seize the opportunity of exhorting so respectable a
+congregation. It is only certain that he took occasion by the forelock,
+sprung into the pulpit, cast his eyes wildly round him, and, undismayed
+by the murmurs of many of the audience, opened the Bible, read forth as
+his text from the thirteenth chapter of Deuteronomy, “Certain men, the
+children of Belial, are gone out from among you, and have withdrawn the
+inhabitants of their city, saying, let us go and serve other gods, which
+you have not known;” and then rushed at once into the midst of his
+subject.
+
+The harangue of Mucklewrath was as wild and extravagant as his intrusion
+was unauthorized and untimely; but it was provokingly coherent, in so far
+as it turned entirely upon the very subjects of discord, of which it had
+been agreed to adjourn the consideration until some more suitable
+opportunity. Not a single topic did he omit which had offence in it; and,
+after charging the moderate party with heresy, with crouching to tyranny,
+with seeking to be at peace with God’s enemies, he applied to Morton, by
+name, the charge that he had been one of those men of Belial, who, in the
+words of his text, had gone out from amongst them, to withdraw the
+inhabitants of his city, and to go astray after false gods. To him, and
+all who followed him, or approved of his conduct, Mucklewrath denounced
+fury and vengeance, and exhorted those who would hold themselves pure and
+undefiled to come up from the midst of them.
+
+“Fear not,” he said, “because of the neighing of horses, or the
+glittering of breastplates. Seek not aid of the Egyptians, because of the
+enemy, though they may be numerous as locusts, and fierce as dragons.
+Their trust is not as our trust, nor their rock as our rock; how else
+shall a thousand fly before one, and two put ten thousand to the flight!
+I dreamed it in the visions of the night, and the voice said, ‘Habakkuk,
+take thy fan and purge the wheat from the chaff, that they be not both
+consumed with the fire of indignation and the lightning of fury.’
+Wherefore, I say, take this Henry Morton--this wretched Achan, who hath
+brought the accursed thing among ye, and made himself brethren in the
+camp of the enemy--take him and stone him with stones, and thereafter
+burn him with fire, that the wrath may depart from the children of the
+Covenant. He hath not taken a Babylonish garment, but he hath sold the
+garment of righteousness to the woman of Babylon--he hath not taken two
+hundred shekels of fine silver, but he hath bartered the truth, which is
+more precious than shekels of silver or wedges of gold.”
+
+At this furious charge, brought so unexpectedly against one of their most
+active commanders, the audience broke out into open tumult, some
+demanding that there should instantly be a new election of officers, into
+which office none should hereafter be admitted who had, in their phrase,
+touched of that which was accursed, or temporized more or less with the
+heresies and corruptions of the times. While such was the demand of the
+Cameronians, they vociferated loudly, that those who were not with them
+were against them,--that it was no time to relinquish the substantial
+part of the covenanted testimony of the Church, if they expected a
+blessing on their arms and their cause; and that, in their eyes, a
+lukewarm Presbyterian was little better than a Prelatist, an
+Anti-Covenanter, and a Nullifidian.
+
+The parties accused repelled the charge of criminal compliance and
+defection from the truth with scorn and indignation, and charged their
+accusers with breach of faith, as well as with wrong-headed and
+extravagant zeal in introducing such divisions into an army, the joint
+strength of which could not, by the most sanguine, be judged more than
+sufficient to face their enemies. Poundtext, and one or two others, made
+some faint efforts to stem the increasing fury of the factious,
+exclaiming to those of the other party, in the words of the
+Patriarch,--“Let there be no strife, I pray thee, between me and thee,
+and between thy herdsmen and my herdsmen, for we be brethren.” No
+pacific overture could possibly obtain audience. It was in vain that
+even Burley himself, when he saw the dissension proceed to such ruinous
+lengths, exerted his stern and deep voice, commanding silence and
+obedience to discipline. The spirit of insubordination had gone forth,
+and it seemed as if the exhortation of Habakkuk Mucklewrath had
+communicated a part of his frenzy to all who heard him. The wiser, or
+more timid part of the assembly, were already withdrawing themselves
+from the field, and giving up their cause as lost. Others were
+moderating a harmonious call, as they somewhat improperly termed it, to
+new officers, and dismissing those formerly chosen, and that with a
+tumult and clamour worthy of the deficiency of good sense and good order
+implied in the whole transaction. It was at this moment when Morton
+arrived in the field and joined the army, in total confusion, and on the
+point of dissolving itself. His arrival occasioned loud exclamations of
+applause on the one side, and of imprecation on the other.
+
+“What means this ruinous disorder at such a moment?” he exclaimed to
+Burley, who, exhausted with his vain exertions to restore order, was now
+leaning on his sword, and regarding the confusion with an eye of resolute
+despair.
+
+“It means,” he replied, “that God has delivered us into the hands of our
+enemies.”
+
+“Not so,” answered Morton, with a voice and gesture which compelled many
+to listen; “it is not God who deserts us, it is we who desert him, and
+dishonour ourselves by disgracing and betraying the cause of freedom and
+religion.--Hear me,” he exclaimed, springing to the pulpit which
+Mucklewrath had been compelled to evacuate by actual exhaustion--“I bring
+from the enemy an offer to treat, if you incline to lay down your arms. I
+can assure you the means of making an honourable defence, if you are of
+more manly tempers. The time flies fast on. Let us resolve either for
+peace or war; and let it not be said of us in future days, that six
+thousand Scottish men in arms had neither courage to stand their ground
+and fight it out, nor prudence to treat for peace, nor even the coward’s
+wisdom to retreat in good time and with safety. What signifies
+quarrelling on minute points of church-discipline, when the whole edifice
+is threatened with total destruction? O, remember, my brethren, that the
+last and worst evil which God brought upon the people whom he had once
+chosen--the last and worst punishment of their blindness and hardness of
+heart, was the bloody dissensions which rent asunder their city, even
+when the enemy were thundering at its gates!”
+
+Some of the audience testified their feeling of this exhortation, by loud
+exclamations of applause; others by hooting, and exclaiming--“To your
+tents, O Israel!”
+
+Morton, who beheld the columns of the enemy already beginning to appear
+on the right bank, and directing their march upon the bridge, raised his
+voice to its utmost pitch, and, pointing at the same time with his hand,
+exclaimed,--“Silence your senseless clamours, yonder is the enemy! On
+maintaining the bridge against him depend our lives, as well as our hope
+to reclaim our laws and liberties.--There shall at least one Scottishman
+die in their defence.--Let any one who loves his country follow me!”
+
+The multitude had turned their heads in the direction to which he
+pointed. The sight of the glittering files of the English Foot-Guards,
+supported by several squadrons of horse, of the cannon which the
+artillerymen were busily engaged in planting against the bridge, of the
+plaided clans who seemed to search for a ford, and of the long succession
+of troops which were destined to support the attack, silenced at once
+their clamorous uproar, and struck them with as much consternation as if
+it were an unexpected apparition, and not the very thing which they ought
+to have been looking out for. They gazed on each other, and on their
+leaders, with looks resembling those that indicate the weakness of a
+patient when exhausted by a fit of frenzy. Yet when Morton, springing
+from the rostrum, directed his steps towards the bridge, he was followed
+by about an hundred of the young men who were particularly attached to
+his command.
+
+Burley turned to Macbriar--“Ephraim,” he said, “it is Providence points
+us the way, through the worldly wisdom of this latitudinarian youth.--He
+that loves the light, let him follow Burley!”
+
+“Tarry,” replied Macbriar; “it is not by Henry Morton, or such as he,
+that our goings-out and our comings-in are to be meted; therefore tarry
+with us. I fear treachery to the host from this nullifidian Achan--Thou
+shalt not go with him. Thou art our chariots and our horsemen.”
+
+“Hinder me not,” replied Burley; “he hath well said that all is lost, if
+the enemy win the bridge--therefore let me not. Shall the children of
+this generation be called wiser or braver than the children of the
+sanctuary?--Array yourselves under your leaders--let us not lack supplies
+of men and ammunition; and accursed be he who turneth back from the work
+on this great day!”
+
+Having thus spoken, he hastily marched towards the bridge, and was
+followed by about two hundred of the most gallant and zealous of his
+party. There was a deep and disheartened pause when Morton and Burley
+departed. The commanders availed themselves of it to display their lines
+in some sort of order, and exhorted those who were most exposed to throw
+themselves upon their faces to avoid the cannonade which they might
+presently expect. The insurgents ceased to resist or to remonstrate; but
+the awe which had silenced their discords had dismayed their courage.
+They suffered themselves to be formed into ranks with the docility of a
+flock of sheep, but without possessing, for the time, more resolution or
+energy; for they experienced a sinking of the heart, imposed by the
+sudden and imminent approach of the danger which they had neglected to
+provide against while it was yet distant. They were, however, drawn out
+with some regularity; and as they still possessed the appearance of an
+army, their leaders had only to hope that some favourable circumstance
+would restore their spirits and courage.
+
+Kettledrummle, Poundtext, Macbriar, and other preachers, busied
+themselves in their ranks, and prevailed on them to raise a psalm. But
+the superstitious among them observed, as an ill omen, that their song of
+praise and triumph sunk into “a quaver of consternation,” and resembled
+rather a penitentiary stave sung on the scaffold of a condemned criminal,
+than the bold strain which had resounded along the wild heath of
+Loudon-hill, in anticipation of that day’s victory. The melancholy melody
+soon received a rough accompaniment; the royal soldiers shouted, the
+Highlanders yelled, the cannon began to fire on one side, and the
+musketry on both, and the bridge of Bothwell, with the banks adjacent,
+were involved in wreaths of smoke.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+                    As e’er ye saw the rain doun fa’,
+                    Or yet the arrow from the bow,
+                    Sae our Scots lads fell even down,
+                    And they lay slain on every knowe.
+                                        Old Ballad.
+
+Ere Morton or Burley had reached the post to be defended, the enemy had
+commenced an attack upon it with great spirit. The two regiments of
+Foot-Guards, formed into a close column, rushed forward to the river; one
+corps, deploying along the right bank, commenced a galling fire on the
+defenders of the pass, while the other pressed on to occupy the bridge.
+The insurgents sustained the attack with great constancy and courage; and
+while part of their number returned the fire across the river, the rest
+maintained a discharge of musketry upon the further end of the bridge
+itself, and every avenue by which the soldiers endeavoured to approach
+it. The latter suffered severely, but still gained ground, and the head
+of their column was already upon the bridge, when the arrival of Morton
+changed the scene; and his marksmen, commencing upon the pass a fire as
+well aimed as it was sustained and regular, compelled the assailants to
+retire with much loss. They were a second time brought up to the charge,
+and a second time repulsed with still greater loss, as Burley had now
+brought his party into action. The fire was continued with the utmost
+vehemence on both sides, and the issue of the action seemed very dubious.
+
+Monmouth, mounted on a superb white charger, might be discovered on the
+top of the right bank of the river, urging, entreating, and animating the
+exertions of his soldiers. By his orders, the cannon, which had hitherto
+been employed in annoying the distant main body of the presbyterians,
+were now turned upon the defenders of the bridge. But these tremendous
+engines, being wrought much more slowly than in modern times, did not
+produce the effect of annoying or terrifying the enemy to the extent
+proposed. The insurgents, sheltered by copsewood along the bank of the
+river, or stationed in the houses already mentioned, fought under cover,
+while the royalists, owing to the precautions of Morton, were entirely
+exposed. The defence was so protracted and obstinate, that the royal
+generals began to fear it might be ultimately successful. While Monmouth
+threw himself from his horse, and, rallying the Foot-Guards, brought them
+on to another close and desperate attack, he was warmly seconded
+by Dalzell, who, putting himself at the head of a body of
+Lennox-Highlanders, rushed forward with their tremendous war-cry of
+Loch-sloy.
+
+     [Note: This was the slogan or war-cry of the MacFarlanes, taken from
+     a lake near the head of Loch Lomond, in the centre of their ancient
+     possessions on the western banks of that beautiful inland sea.]
+
+The ammunition of the defenders of the bridge began to fail at this
+important crisis; messages, commanding and imploring succours and
+supplies, were in vain dispatched, one after the other, to the main body
+of the presbyterian army, which remained inactively drawn up on the open
+fields in the rear. Fear, consternation, and misrule, had gone abroad
+among them, and while the post on which their safety depended required
+to be instantly and powerfully reinforced, there remained none either to
+command or to obey.
+
+As the fire of the defenders of the bridge began to slacken, that of the
+assailants increased, and in its turn became more fatal. Animated by the
+example and exhortations of their generals, they obtained a footing upon
+the bridge itself, and began to remove the obstacles by which it was
+blockaded. The portal-gate was broke open, the beams, trunks of trees,
+and other materials of the barricade, pulled down and thrown into the
+river. This was not accomplished without opposition. Morton and Burley
+fought in the very front of their followers, and encouraged them with
+their pikes, halberds, and partisans, to encounter the bayonets of the
+Guards, and the broadswords of the Highlanders. But those behind the
+leaders began to shrink from the unequal combat, and fly singly, or in
+parties of two or three, towards the main body, until the remainder were,
+by the mere weight of the hostile column as much as by their weapons,
+fairly forced from the bridge. The passage being now open, the enemy
+began to pour over. But the bridge was long and narrow, which rendered
+the manoeuvre slow as well as dangerous; and those who first passed had
+still to force the houses, from the windows of which the Covenanters
+continued to fire. Burley and Morton were near each other at this
+critical moment.
+
+“There is yet time,” said the former, “to bring down horse to attack
+them, ere they can get into order; and, with the aid of God, we may thus
+regain the bridge--hasten thou to bring them down, while I make the
+defence good with this old and wearied body.”
+
+Morton saw the importance of the advice, and, throwing himself on the
+horse which cuddie held in readiness for him behind the thicket, galloped
+towards a body of cavalry which chanced to be composed entirely of
+Cameronians. Ere he could speak his errand, or utter his orders, he was
+saluted by the execrations of the whole body.
+
+“He flies!” they exclaimed--“the cowardly traitor flies like a hart from
+the hunters, and hath left valiant Burley in the midst of the slaughter!”
+
+“I do not fly,” said Morton. “I come to lead you to the attack. Advance
+boldly, and we shall yet do well.”
+
+“Follow him not!--Follow him not!”--such were the tumultuous exclamations
+which resounded from the ranks;--“he hath sold you to the sword of the
+enemy!”
+
+And while Morton argued, entreated, and commanded in vain, the moment was
+lost in which the advance might have been useful; and the outlet from the
+bridge, with all its defences, being in complete possession of the enemy,
+Burley and his remaining followers were driven back upon the main body,
+to whom the spectacle of their hurried and harassed retreat was far from
+restoring the confidence which they so much wanted.
+
+In the meanwhile, the forces of the King crossed the bridge at their
+leisure, and, securing the pass, formed in line of battle; while
+Claverhouse, who, like a hawk perched on a rock, and eyeing the time to
+pounce on its prey, had watched the event of the action from the opposite
+bank, now passed the bridge at the head of his cavalry, at full trot,
+and, leading them in squadrons through the intervals and round the flanks
+of the royal infantry, formed them in line on the moor, and led them to
+the charge, advancing in front with one large body, while other two
+divisions threatened the flanks of the Covenanters. Their devoted army
+was now in that situation when the slightest demonstration towards an
+attack was certain to inspire panic. Their broken spirits and
+disheartened courage were unable to endure the charge of the cavalry,
+attended with all its terrible accompaniments of sight and sound;--the
+rush of the horses at full speed, the shaking of the earth under their
+feet, the glancing of the swords, the waving of the plumes, and the
+fierce shouts of the cavaliers. The front ranks hardly attempted one
+ill-directed and disorderly fire, and their rear were broken and flying
+in confusion ere the charge had been completed; and in less than five
+minutes the horsemen were mixed with them, cutting and hewing without
+mercy. The voice of Claverhouse was heard, even above the din of
+conflict, exclaiming to his soldiers--“Kill, kill--no quarter--think on
+Richard Grahame!” The dragoons, many of whom had shared the disgrace of
+Loudon-hill, required no exhortations to vengeance as easy as it was
+complete. Their swords drank deep of slaughter among the unresisting
+fugitives. Screams for quarter were only answered by the shouts with
+which the pursuers accompanied their blows, and the whole field presented
+one general scene of confused slaughter, flight, and pursuit.
+
+About twelve hundred of the insurgents who remained in a body a little
+apart from the rest, and out of the line of the charge of cavalry, threw
+down their arms and surrendered at discretion, upon the approach of the
+Duke of Monmouth at the head of the infantry. That mild-tempered nobleman
+instantly allowed them the quarter which they prayed for; and, galloping
+about through the field, exerted himself as much to stop the slaughter as
+he had done to obtain the victory. While busied in this humane task he
+met with General Dalzell, who was encouraging the fierce Highlanders and
+royal volunteers to show their zeal for King and country, by quenching
+the flame of the rebellion with the blood of the rebels.
+
+“Sheathe your sword, I command you, General!” exclaimed the Duke, “and
+sound the retreat. Enough of blood has been shed; give quarter to the
+King’s misguided subjects.”
+
+“I obey your Grace,” said the old man, wiping his bloody sword and
+returning it to the scabbard; “but I warn you, at the same time, that
+enough has not been done to intimidate these desperate rebels. Has not
+your Grace heard that Basil Olifant has collected several gentlemen and
+men of substance in the west, and is in the act of marching to join
+them?”
+
+“Basil Olifant?” said the Duke; “who, or what is he?”
+
+“The next male heir to the last Earl of Torwood. He is disaffected to
+government from his claim to the estate being set aside in favour of Lady
+Margaret Bellenden; and I suppose the hope of getting the inheritance has
+set him in motion.”
+
+“Be his motives what they will,” replied Monmouth, “he must soon disperse
+his followers, for this army is too much broken to rally again.
+Therefore, once more, I command that the pursuit be stopped.”
+
+“It is your Grace’s province to command, and to be responsible for your
+commands,” answered Dalzell, as he gave reluctant orders for checking the
+pursuit.
+
+But the fiery and vindictive Grahame was already far out of hearing of
+the signal of retreat, and continued with his cavalry an unwearied and
+bloody pursuit, breaking, dispersing, and cutting to pieces all the
+insurgents whom they could come up with.
+
+Burley and Morton were both hurried off the field by the confused tide of
+fugitives. They made some attempt to defend the streets of the town of
+Hamilton; but, while labouring to induce the fliers to face about and
+stand to their weapons. Burley received a bullet which broke his
+sword-arm.
+
+“May the hand be withered that shot the shot!” he exclaimed, as the sword
+which he was waving over his head fell powerless to his side. “I can
+fight no longer.” [Note: This incident, and Burley’s exclamation, are
+taken from the records.]
+
+Then turning his horse’s head, he retreated out of the confusion. Morton
+also now saw that the continuing his unavailing efforts to rally the
+fliers could only end in his own death or captivity, and, followed by the
+faithful Cuddie, he extricated himself from the press, and, being well
+mounted, leaped his horse over one or two enclosures, and got into the
+open country.
+
+From the first hill which they gained in their flight, they looked back,
+and beheld the whole country covered with their fugitive companions, and
+with the pursuing dragoons, whose wild shouts and halloo, as they did
+execution on the groups whom they overtook, mingled with the groans and
+screams of their victims, rose shrilly up the hill.
+
+“It is impossible they can ever make head again,” said Morton.
+
+“The head’s taen aff them, as clean as I wad bite it aff a sybo!”
+ rejoined Cuddie. “Eh, Lord! see how the broadswords are flashing! war’s
+a fearsome thing. They’ll be cunning that catches me at this wark
+again.--But, for God’s sake, sir, let us mak for some strength!”
+
+Morton saw the necessity of following the advice of his trusty squire.
+They resumed a rapid pace, and continued it without intermission,
+directing their course towards the wild and mountainous country, where
+they thought it likely some part of the fugitives might draw together,
+for the sake either of making defence, or of obtaining terms.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+                            They require
+               Of Heaven the hearts of lions, breath of tigers,
+               Yea and the fierceness too.
+                                             Fletcher.
+
+Evening had fallen; and, for the last two hours, they had seen none of
+their ill-fated companions, when Morton and his faithful attendant gained
+the moorland, and approached a large and solitary farmhouse, situated in
+the entrance of a wild glen, far remote from any other habitation.
+
+“Our horses,” said Morton, “will carry us no farther without rest or
+food, and we must try to obtain them here, if possible.”
+
+So speaking, he led the way to the house. The place had every appearance
+of being inhabited. There was smoke issuing from the chimney in a
+considerable volume, and the marks of recent hoofs were visible around
+the door. They could even hear the murmuring of human voices within the
+house. But all the lower windows were closely secured; and when they
+knocked at the door, no answer was returned. After vainly calling and
+entreating admittance, they withdrew to the stable, or shed, in order to
+accommodate their horses, ere they used farther means of gaining
+admission. In this place they found ten or twelve horses, whose state of
+fatigue, as well as the military yet disordered appearance of their
+saddles and accoutrements, plainly indicated that their owners were
+fugitive insurgents in their own circumstances.
+
+“This meeting bodes luck,” said Cuddie; “and they hae walth o’ beef,
+that’s ae thing certain, for here’s a raw hide that has been about the
+hurdies o’ a stot not half an hour syne--it’s warm yet.”
+
+Encouraged by these appearances, they returned again to the house, and,
+announcing themselves as men in the same predicament with the inmates,
+clamoured loudly for admittance.
+
+“Whoever ye be,” answered a stern voice from the window, after a long and
+obdurate silence, “disturb not those who mourn for the desolation and
+captivity of the land, and search out the causes of wrath and of
+defection, that the stumbling-blocks may be removed over which we have
+stumbled.”
+
+“They are wild western whigs,” said Cuddie, in a whisper to his master,
+“I ken by their language. Fiend hae me, if I like to venture on them!”
+
+Morton, however, again called to the party within, and insisted on
+admittance; but, finding his entreaties still disregarded, he opened one
+of the lower windows, and pushing asunder the shutters, which were but
+slightly secured, stepped into the large kitchen from which the voice had
+issued. Cuddie followed him, muttering betwixt his teeth, as he put his
+head within the window, “That he hoped there was nae scalding brose on
+the fire;” and master and servant both found themselves in the company of
+ten or twelve armed men, seated around the fire, on which refreshments
+were preparing, and busied apparently in their devotions.
+
+In the gloomy countenances, illuminated by the fire-light, Morton had no
+difficulty in recognising several of those zealots who had most
+distinguished themselves by their intemperate opposition to all moderate
+measures, together with their noted pastor, the fanatical Ephraim
+Macbriar, and the maniac, Habakkuk Mucklewrath. The Cameronians neither
+stirred tongue nor hand to welcome their brethren in misfortune, but
+continued to listen to the low murmured exercise of Macbriar, as he
+prayed that the Almighty would lift up his hand from his people, and not
+make an end in the day of his anger. That they were conscious of the
+presence of the intruders only appeared from the sullen and indignant
+glances which they shot at them, from time to time, as their eyes
+encountered.
+
+Morton, finding into what unfriendly society he had unwittingly intruded,
+began to think of retreating; but, on turning his head, observed with
+some alarm, that two strong men had silently placed themselves beside the
+window, through which they had entered. One of these ominous sentinels
+whispered to Cuddie, “Son of that precious woman, Mause Headrigg, do not
+cast thy lot farther with this child of treachery and perdition--Pass on
+thy way, and tarry not, for the avenger of blood is behind thee.”
+
+With this he pointed to the window, out of which Cuddie jumped without
+hesitation; for the intimation he had received plainly implied the
+personal danger he would otherwise incur.
+
+“Winnocks are no lucky wi’ me,” was his first reflection when he was in
+the open air; his next was upon the probable fate of his master. “They’ll
+kill him, the murdering loons, and think they’re doing a gude turn! but
+I’se tak the back road for Hamilton, and see if I canna get some o’ our
+ain folk to bring help in time of needcessity.”
+
+So saying, Cuddie hastened to the stable, and taking the best horse he
+could find instead of his own tired animal, he galloped off in the
+direction he proposed.
+
+The noise of his horse’s tread alarmed for an instant the devotion of the
+fanatics. As it died in the distance, Macbriar brought his exercise to a
+conclusion, and his audience raised themselves from the stooping posture,
+and louring downward look, with which they had listened to it, and all
+fixed their eyes sternly on Henry Morton.
+
+“You bend strange countenances on me, gentlemen,” said he, addressing
+them. “I am totally ignorant in what manner I can have deserved them.”
+
+“Out upon thee! out upon thee!” exclaimed Mucklewrath, starting up: “the
+word that thou hast spurned shall become a rock to crush and to bruise
+thee; the spear which thou wouldst have broken shall pierce thy side; we
+have prayed, and wrestled, and petitioned for an offering to atone the
+sins of the congregation, and lo! the very head of the offence is
+delivered into our hand. He hath burst in like a thief through the
+window; he is a ram caught in the thicket, whose blood shall be a
+drink-offering to redeem vengeance from the church, and the place shall
+from henceforth be called Jehovah-Jireh, for the sacrifice is provided.
+Up then, and bind the victim with cords to the horns of the altar!”
+
+There was a movement among the party; and deeply did Morton regret at
+that moment the incautious haste with which he had ventured into their
+company. He was armed only with his sword, for he had left his pistols at
+the bow of his saddle; and, as the whigs were all provided with
+fire-arms, there was little or no chance of escaping from them by
+resistance. The interposition, however, of Macbriar protected him for the
+moment.
+
+“Tarry yet a while, brethren--let us not use the sword rashly, lest the
+load of innocent blood lie heavy on us.--Come,” he said, addressing
+himself to Morton, “we will reckon with thee ere we avenge the cause thou
+hast betrayed.--Hast thou not,” he continued, “made thy face as hard as
+flint against the truth in all the assemblies of the host?”
+
+“He has--he has,” murmured the deep voices of the assistants.
+
+“He hath ever urged peace with the malignants,” said one.
+
+“And pleaded for the dark and dismal guilt of the Indulgence,” said
+another.
+
+“And would have surrendered the host into the hands of Monmouth,” echoed
+a third; “and was the first to desert the honest and manly Burley, while
+he yet resisted at the pass. I saw him on the moor, with his horse bloody
+with spurring, long ere the firing had ceased at the bridge.”
+
+“Gentlemen,” said Morton, “if you mean to bear me down by clamour, and
+take my life without hearing me, it is perhaps a thing in your power; but
+you will sin before God and man by the commission of such a murder.”
+
+“I say, hear the youth,” said Macbriar; “for Heaven knows our bowels have
+yearned for him, that he might be brought to see the truth, and exert his
+gifts in its defence. But he is blinded by his carnal knowledge, and has
+spurned the light when it blazed before him.”
+
+Silence being obtained, Morton proceeded to assert the good faith which
+he had displayed in the treaty with Monmouth, and the active part he had
+borne in the subsequent action.
+
+“I may not, gentlemen,” he said, “be fully able to go the lengths you
+desire, in assigning to those of my own religion the means of tyrannizing
+over others; but none shall go farther in asserting our own lawful
+freedom. And I must needs aver, that had others been of my mind in
+counsel, or disposed to stand by my side in battle, we should this
+evening, instead of being a defeated and discordant remnant, have
+sheathed our weapons in an useful and honourable peace, or brandished
+them triumphantly after a decisive victory.”
+
+“He hath spoken the word,” said one of the assembly--“he hath avowed his
+carnal self-seeking and Erastianism; let him die the death!”
+
+“Peace yet again,” said Macbriar, “for I will try him further.--Was it
+not by thy means that the malignant Evandale twice escaped from death and
+captivity? Was it not through thee that Miles Bellenden and his garrison
+of cut-throats were saved from the edge of the sword?”
+
+“I am proud to say, that you have spoken the truth in both instances,”
+ replied Morton.
+
+“Lo! you see,” said Macbriar, “again hath his mouth spoken it.--And didst
+thou not do this for the sake of a Midianitish woman, one of the spawn of
+prelacy, a toy with which the arch-enemy’s trap is baited? Didst thou not
+do all this for the sake of Edith Bellenden?”
+
+“You are incapable,” answered Morton, boldly, “of appreciating my
+feelings towards that young lady; but all that I have done I would have
+done had she never existed.”
+
+“Thou art a hardy rebel to the truth,” said another dark-brow’d man; “and
+didst thou not so act, that, by conveying away the aged woman, Margaret
+Bellenden, and her grand-daughter, thou mightest thwart the wise and
+godly project of John Balfour of Burley for bringing forth to battle
+Basil Olifant, who had agreed to take the field if he were insured
+possession of these women’s worldly endowments?”
+
+“I never heard of such a scheme,” said Morton, “and therefore I could not
+thwart it.--But does your religion permit you to take such uncreditable
+and immoral modes of recruiting?”
+
+“Peace,” said Macbriar, somewhat disconcerted; “it is not for thee to
+instruct tender professors, or to construe Covenant obligations. For the
+rest, you have acknowledged enough of sin and sorrowful defection, to
+draw down defeat on a host, were it as numerous as the sands on the
+sea-shore. And it is our judgment, that we are not free to let you pass
+from us safe and in life, since Providence hath given you into our hands
+at the moment that we prayed with godly Joshua, saying, ‘What shall we
+say when Israel turneth their backs before their enemies?’--Then camest
+thou, delivered to us as it were by lot, that thou mightest sustain the
+punishment of one that hath wrought folly in Israel. Therefore, mark my
+words. This is the Sabbath, and our hand shall not be on thee to spill
+thy blood upon this day; but, when the twelfth hour shall strike, it is a
+token that thy time on earth hath run! Wherefore improve thy span, for it
+flitteth fast away.--Seize on the prisoner, brethren, and take his
+weapon.”
+
+The command was so unexpectedly given, and so suddenly executed by those
+of the party who had gradually closed behind and around Morton, that he
+was overpowered, disarmed, and a horse-girth passed round his arms,
+before he could offer any effectual resistance. When this was
+accomplished, a dead and stern silence took place. The fanatics ranged
+themselves around a large oaken table, placing Morton amongst them bound
+and helpless, in such a manner as to be opposite to the clock which was
+to strike his knell. Food was placed before them, of which they offered
+their intended victim a share; but, it will readily be believed, he had
+little appetite. When this was removed, the party resumed their
+devotions. Macbriar, whose fierce zeal did not perhaps exclude some
+feelings of doubt and compunction, began to expostulate in prayer, as if
+to wring from the Deity a signal that the bloody sacrifice they proposed
+was an acceptable service. The eyes and ears of his hearers were
+anxiously strained, as if to gain some sight or sound which might be
+converted or wrested into a type of approbation, and ever and anon dark
+looks were turned on the dial-plate of the time-piece, to watch its
+progress towards the moment of execution.
+
+Morton’s eye frequently took the same course, with the sad reflection,
+that there appeared no posibility of his life being expanded beyond the
+narrow segment which the index had yet to travel on the circle until it
+arrived at the fatal hour. Faith in his religion, with a constant
+unyielding principle of honour, and the sense of conscious innocence,
+enabled him to pass through this dreadful interval with less agitation
+than he himself could have expected, had the situation been prophesied to
+him. Yet there was a want of that eager and animating sense of right
+which supported him in similar circumstances, when in the power of
+Claverhouse. Then he was conscious, that, amid the spectators, were many
+who were lamenting his condition, and some who applauded his conduct. But
+now, among these pale-eyed and ferocious zealots, whose hardened brows
+were soon to be bent, not merely with indifference, but with triumph,
+upon his execution,--without a friend to speak a kindly word, or give a
+look either of sympathy or encouragement,--awaiting till the sword
+destined to slay him crept out of the scabbard gradually, and as it were
+by strawbreadths, and condemned to drink the bitterness of death drop by
+drop,--it is no wonder that his feelings were less composed than they had
+been on any former occasion of danger. His destined executioners, as he
+gazed around them, seemed to alter their forms and features, like
+spectres in a feverish dream; their figures became larger, and their
+faces more disturbed; and, as an excited imagination predominated over
+the realities which his eyes received, he could have thought himself
+surrounded rather by a band of demons than of human beings; the walls
+seemed to drop with blood, and the light tick of the clock thrilled on
+his ear with such loud, painful distinctness, as if each sound were the
+prick of a bodkin inflicted on the naked nerve of the organ.
+
+
+[Illustration: Morton Awaiting Death--frontispiece2]
+
+
+It was with pain that he felt his mind wavering, while on the brink
+between this and the future world. He made a strong effort to compose
+himself to devotional exercises, and unequal, during that fearful strife
+of nature, to arrange his own thoughts into suitable expressions, he had,
+instinctively, recourse to the petition for deliverance and for composure
+of spirit which is to be found in the Book of Common Prayer of the Church
+of England. Macbriar, whose family were of that persuasion, instantly
+recognised the words, which the unfortunate prisoner pronounced half
+aloud.
+
+“There lacked but this,” he said, his pale cheek kindling with
+resentment, “to root out my carnal reluctance to see his blood spilt. He
+is a prelatist, who has sought the camp under the disguise of an
+Erastian, and all, and more than all, that has been said of him must
+needs be verity. His blood be on his head, the deceiver!--let him go down
+to Tophet, with the ill-mumbled mass which he calls a prayer-book, in his
+right hand!”
+
+“I take up my song against him!” exclaimed the maniac. “As the sun went
+back on the dial ten degrees for intimating the recovery of holy
+Hezekiah, so shall it now go forward, that the wicked may be taken away
+from among the people, and the Covenant established in its purity.”
+
+He sprang to a chair with an attitude of frenzy, in order to anticipate
+the fatal moment by putting the index forward; and several of the party
+began to make ready their slaughter-weapons for immediate execution, when
+Mucklewrath’s hand was arrested by one of his companions.
+
+“Hist!” he said--“I hear a distant noise.”
+
+“It is the rushing of the brook over the pebbles,” said one.
+
+“It is the sough of the wind among the bracken,” said another.
+
+“It is the galloping of horse,” said Morton to himself, his sense of
+hearing rendered acute by the dreadful situation in which he stood; “God
+grant they may come as my deliverers!”
+
+The noise approached rapidly, and became more and more distinct.
+
+“It is horse,” cried Macbriar. “Look out and descry who they are.”
+
+“The enemy are upon us!” cried one who had opened the window, in
+obedience to his order.
+
+A thick trampling and loud voices were heard immediately round the house.
+Some rose to resist, and some to escape; the doors and windows were
+forced at once, and the red coats of the troopers appeared in the
+apartment.
+
+“Have at the bloody rebels!--Remember Cornet Grahame!” was shouted on
+every side.
+
+The lights were struck down, but the dubious glare of the fire enabled
+them to continue the fray. Several pistol-shots were fired; the whig who
+stood next to Morton received a shot as he was rising, stumbled against
+the prisoner, whom he bore down with his weight, and lay stretched above
+him a dying man. This accident probably saved Morton from the damage he
+might otherwise have received in so close a struggle, where fire-arms
+were discharged and sword-blows given for upwards of five minutes.
+
+“Is the prisoner safe?” exclaimed the well-known voice of Claverhouse;
+“look about for him, and dispatch the whig dog who is groaning there.”
+
+Both orders were executed. The groans of the wounded man were silenced by
+a thrust with a rapier, and Morton, disencumbered of his weight, was
+speedily raised and in the arms of the faithful Cuddie, who blubbered for
+joy when he found that the blood with which his master was covered had
+not flowed from his own veins. A whisper in Morton’s ear, while his
+trusty follower relieved him from his bonds, explained the secret of the
+very timely appearance of the soldiers.
+
+“I fell into Claverhouse’s party when I was seeking for some o’ our ain
+folk to help ye out o’ the hands of the whigs, sae being atween the deil
+and the deep sea, I e’en thought it best to bring him on wi’ me, for
+he’ll be wearied wi’ felling folk the night, and the morn’s a new day,
+and Lord Evandale awes ye a day in ha’arst; and Monmouth gies quarter,
+the dragoons tell me, for the asking. Sae haud up your heart, an’ I’se
+warrant we’ll do a’ weel eneugh yet.”
+
+     [Note: NOTE TO
+CHAPTER XII. The principal incident of the foregoing
+     Chapter was suggested by an occurrence of a similar kind, told me by
+     a gentleman, now deceased, who held an important situation in the
+     Excise, to which he had been raised by active and resolute exertions
+     in an inferior department. When employed as a supervisor on the
+     coast of Galloway, at a time when the immunities of the Isle of Man
+     rendered smuggling almost universal in that district, this gentleman
+     had the fortune to offend highly several of the leaders in the
+     contraband trade, by his zeal in serving the revenue.
+
+     This rendered his situation a dangerous one, and, on more than one
+     occasion, placed his life in jeopardy. At one time in particular, as
+     he was riding after sunset on a summer evening, he came suddenly
+     upon a gang of the most desperate smugglers in that part of the
+     country. They surrounded him, without violence, but in such a manner
+     as to show that it would be resorted to if he offered resistance,
+     and gave him to understand he must spend the evening with them,
+     since they had met so happily. The officer did not attempt
+     opposition, but only asked leave to send a country lad to tell his
+     wife and family that he should be detained later than he expected.
+     As he had to charge the boy with this message in the presence of the
+     smugglers, he could found no hope of deliverance from it, save what
+     might arise from the sharpness of the lad’s observation, and the
+     natural anxiety and affection of his wife. But if his errand should
+     be delivered and received literally, as he was conscious the
+     smugglers expected, it was likely that it might, by suspending alarm
+     about his absence from home, postpone all search after him till it
+     might be useless. Making a merit of necessity, therefore, he
+     instructed and dispatched his messenger, and went with the
+     contraband traders, with seeming willingness, to one of their
+     ordinary haunts. He sat down at table with them, and they began to
+     drink and indulge themselves in gross jokes, while, like Mirabel in
+     the “Inconstant,” their prisoner had the heavy task of receiving
+     their insolence as wit, answering their insults with good-humour,
+     and withholding from them the opportunity which they sought of
+     engaging him in a quarrel, that they might have a pretence for
+     misusing him. He succeeded for some time, but soon became satisfied
+     it was their purpose to murder him out-right, or else to beat him in
+     such a manner as scarce to leave him with life. A regard for the
+     sanctity of the Sabbath evening, which still oddly subsisted among
+     these ferocious men, amidst their habitual violation of divine and
+     social law, prevented their commencing their intended cruelty until
+     the Sabbath should be terminated. They were sitting around their
+     anxious prisoner, muttering to each other words of terrible import,
+     and watching the index of a clock, which was shortly to strike the
+     hour at which, in their apprehension, murder would become lawful,
+     when their intended victim heard a distant rustling like the wind
+     among withered leaves. It came nearer, and resembled the sound of a
+     brook in flood chafing within its banks; it came nearer yet, and was
+     plainly distinguished as the galloping of a party of horse. The
+     absence of her husband, and the account given by the boy of the
+     suspicious appearance of those with whom he had remained, had
+     induced Mrs--to apply to the neighbouring town for a party of
+     dragoons, who thus providentially arrived in time to save him from
+     extreme violence, if not from actual destruction.]
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+               Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife!
+               To all the sensual world proclaim,
+               One crowded hour of glorious life
+               Is worth an age without a name.
+                                        Anonymous.
+
+When the desperate affray had ceased, Claverhouse commanded his soldiers
+to remove the dead bodies, to refresh themselves and their horses, and
+prepare for passing the night at the farm-house, and for marching early
+in the ensuing morning. He then turned his attention to Morton, and there
+was politeness, and even kindness, in the manner in which he addressed
+him.
+
+“You would have saved yourself risk from both sides, Mr Morton, if you
+had honoured my counsel yesterday morning with some attention; but I
+respect your motives. You are a prisoner-of-war at the disposal of the
+king and council, but you shall be treated with no incivility; and I will
+be satisfied with your parole that you will not attempt an escape.”
+
+When Morton had passed his word to that effect, Claverhouse bowed
+civilly, and, turning away from him, called for his sergeant-major.
+
+“How many prisoners, Halliday, and how many killed?”
+
+“Three killed in the house, sir, two cut down in the court, and one in
+the garden--six in all; four prisoners.”
+
+“Armed or unarmed?” said Claverhouse.
+
+“Three of them armed to the teeth,” answered Halliday; “one without
+arms--he seems to be a preacher.”
+
+“Ay--the trumpeter to the long-ear’d rout, I suppose,” replied
+Claverhouse, glancing slightly round upon his victims, “I will talk with
+him tomorrow. Take the other three down to the yard, draw out two files,
+and fire upon them; and, d’ye hear, make a memorandum in the orderly book
+of three rebels taken in arms and shot, with the date and name of the
+place--Drumshinnel, I think, they call it.--Look after the preacher till
+to-morrow; as he was not armed, he must undergo a short examination. Or
+better, perhaps, take him before the Privy Council; I think they should
+relieve me of a share of this disgusting drudgery.--Let Mr Morton be
+civilly used, and see that the men look well after their horses; and let
+my groom wash Wild-blood’s shoulder with some vinegar, the saddle has
+touched him a little.”
+
+All these various orders,--for life and death, the securing of his
+prisoners, and the washing his charger’s shoulder,--were given in the
+same unmoved and equable voice, of which no accent or tone intimated that
+the speaker considered one direction as of more importance than another.
+
+The Cameronians, so lately about to be the willing agents of a bloody
+execution, were now themselves to undergo it. They seemed prepared alike
+for either extremity, nor did any of them show the least sign of fear,
+when ordered to leave the room for the purpose of meeting instant death.
+Their severe enthusiasm sustained them in that dreadful moment, and they
+departed with a firm look and in silence, excepting that one of them, as
+he left the apartment, looked Claverhouse full in the face, and
+pronounced, with a stern and steady voice,--“Mischief shall haunt the
+violent man!” to which Grahame only answered by a smile of contempt.
+
+They had no sooner left the room than Claverhouse applied himself to some
+food, which one or two of his party had hastily provided, and invited
+Morton to follow his example, observing, it had been a busy day for them
+both. Morton declined eating; for the sudden change of circumstances--the
+transition from the verge of the grave to a prospect of life, had
+occasioned a dizzy revulsion in his whole system. But the same confused
+sensation was accompanied by a burning thirst, and he expressed his wish
+to drink.
+
+“I will pledge you, with all my heart,” said Claverhouse; “for here is a
+black jack full of ale, and good it must be, if there be good in the
+country, for the whigs never miss to find it out.--My service to you, Mr
+Morton,” he said, filling one horn of ale for himself, and handing
+another to his prisoner.
+
+Morton raised it to his head, and was just about to drink, when the
+discharge of carabines beneath the window, followed by a deep and hollow
+groan, repeated twice or thrice, and more faint at each interval,
+announced the fate of the three men who had just left them. Morton
+shuddered, and set down the untasted cup.
+
+“You are but young in these matters, Mr Morton,” said Claverhouse, after
+he had very composedly finished his draught; “and I do not think the
+worse of you as a young soldier for appearing to feel them acutely. But
+habit, duty, and necessity, reconcile men to every thing.”
+
+“I trust,” said Morton, “they will never reconcile me to such scenes as
+these.”
+
+“You would hardly believe,” said Claverhouse in reply, “that, in the
+beginning of my military career, I had as much aversion to seeing blood
+spilt as ever man felt; it seemed to me to be wrung from my own heart;
+and yet, if you trust one of those whig fellows, he will tell you I drink
+a warm cup of it every morning before I breakfast. [Note: The author is
+uncertain whether this was ever said of Claverhouse. But it was currently
+reported of Sir Robert Grierson of Lagg, another of the persecutors, that
+a cup of wine placed in his hand turned to clotted blood.] But in truth,
+Mr Morton, why should we care so much for death, light upon us or around
+us whenever it may? Men die daily--not a bell tolls the hour but it is
+the death-note of some one or other; and why hesitate to shorten the span
+of others, or take over-anxious care to prolong our own? It is all a
+lottery--when the hour of midnight came, you were to die--it has struck,
+you are alive and safe, and the lot has fallen on those fellows who were
+to murder you. It is not the expiring pang that is worth thinking of in
+an event that must happen one day, and may befall us on any given
+moment--it is the memory which the soldier leaves behind him, like the
+long train of light that follows the sunken sun--that is all which is
+worth caring for, which distinguishes the death of the brave or the
+ignoble. When I think of death, Mr Morton, as a thing worth thinking of,
+it is in the hope of pressing one day some well-fought and hard-won
+field of battle, and dying with the shout of victory in my ear--that
+would be worth dying for, and more, it would be worth having lived for!”
+
+At the moment when Grahame delivered these sentiments, his eye glancing
+with the martial enthusiasm which formed such a prominent feature in his
+character, a gory figure, which seemed to rise out of the floor of the
+apartment, stood upright before him, and presented the wild person and
+hideous features of the maniac so often mentioned. His face, where it was
+not covered with blood-streaks, was ghastly pale, for the hand of death
+was on him. He bent upon Claverhouse eyes, in which the grey light of
+insanity still twinkled, though just about to flit for ever, and
+exclaimed, with his usual wildness of ejaculation, “Wilt thou trust in
+thy bow and in thy spear, in thy steed and in thy banner? And shall not
+God visit thee for innocent blood?--Wilt thou glory in thy wisdom, and in
+thy courage, and in thy might? And shall not the Lord judge thee?--Behold
+the princes, for whom thou hast sold thy soul to the destroyer, shall be
+removed from their place, and banished to other lands, and their names
+shall be a desolation, and an astonishment, and a hissing, and a curse.
+And thou, who hast partaken of the wine-cup of fury, and hast been
+drunken and mad because thereof, the wish of thy heart shall be granted
+to thy loss, and the hope of thine own pride shall destroy thee. I summon
+thee, John Grahame, to appear before the tribunal of God, to answer for
+this innocent blood, and the seas besides which thou hast shed.”
+
+He drew his right hand across his bleeding face, and held it up to heaven
+as he uttered these words, which he spoke very loud, and then added more
+faintly, “How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge
+the blood of thy saints!”
+
+As he uttered the last word, he fell backwards without an attempt to save
+himself, and was a dead man ere his head touched the floor.
+
+Morton was much shocked at this extraordinary scene, and the prophecy of
+the dying man, which tallied so strangely with the wish which Claverhouse
+had just expressed; and he often thought of it afterwards when that wish
+seemed to be accomplished. Two of the dragoons who were in the apartment,
+hardened as they were, and accustomed to such scenes, showed great
+consternation at the sudden apparition, the event, and the words which
+preceded it. Claverhouse alone was unmoved. At the first instant of
+Mucklewrath’s appearance, he had put his hand to his pistol, but on
+seeing the situation of the wounded wretch, he immediately withdrew it,
+and listened with great composure to his dying exclamation.
+
+When he dropped, Claverhouse asked, in an unconcerned tone of voice--“How
+came the fellow here?--Speak, you staring fool!” he added, addressing the
+nearest dragoon, “unless you would have me think you such a poltroon as
+to fear a dying man.”
+
+The dragoon crossed himself, and replied with a faltering voice,--“That
+the dead fellow had escaped their notice when they removed the other
+bodies, as he chanced to have fallen where a cloak or two had been flung
+aside, and covered him.”
+
+“Take him away now, then, you gaping idiot, and see that he does not bite
+you, to put an old proverb to shame.--This is a new incident, Mr. Morton,
+that dead men should rise and push us from our stools. I must see that my
+blackguards grind their swords sharper; they used not to do their work so
+slovenly.--But we have had a busy day; they are tired, and their blades
+blunted with their bloody work; and I suppose you, Mr Morton, as well as
+I, are well disposed for a few hours’ repose.”
+
+So saying, he yawned, and taking a candle which a soldier had placed
+ready, saluted Morton courteously, and walked to the apartment which had
+been prepared for him.
+
+Morton was also accommodated, for the evening, with a separate room.
+Being left alone, his first occupation was the returning thanks to Heaven
+for redeeming him from danger, even through the instrumentality of those
+who seemed his most dangerous enemies; he also prayed sincerely for the
+Divine assistance in guiding his course through times which held out so
+many dangers and so many errors. And having thus poured out his spirit in
+prayer before the Great Being who gave it, he betook himself to the
+repose which he so much required.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+               The charge is prepared, the lawyers are met,
+               The judges all ranged--a terrible show!
+                                        Beggar’s Opera.
+
+So deep was the slumber which succeeded the agitation and embarrassment
+of the preceding day, that Morton hardly knew where he was when it was
+broken by the tramp of horses, the hoarse voice of men, and the wild
+sound of the trumpets blowing the _reveille_. The sergeant-major
+immediately afterwards came to summon him, which he did in a very
+respectful manner, saying the General (for Claverhouse now held that
+rank) hoped for the pleasure of his company upon the road. In some
+situations an intimation is a command, and Morton considered that the
+present occasion was one of these. He waited upon Claverhouse as speedily
+as he could, found his own horse saddled for his use, and Cuddie in
+attendance. Both were deprived of their fire-arms, though they seemed,
+otherwise, rather to make part of the troop than of the prisoners; and
+Morton was permitted to retain his sword, the wearing which was, in those
+days, the distinguishing mark of a gentleman. Claverhouse seemed also to
+take pleasure in riding beside him, in conversing with him, and in
+confounding his ideas when he attempted to appreciate his real character.
+The gentleness and urbanity of that officer’s general manners, the high
+and chivalrous sentiments of military devotion which he occasionally
+expressed, his deep and accurate insight into the human bosom, demanded
+at once the approbation and the wonder of those who conversed with him;
+while, on the other hand, his cold indifference to military violence and
+cruelty seemed altogether inconsistent with the social, and even
+admirable qualities which he displayed. Morton could not help, in his
+heart, contrasting him with Balfour of Burley; and so deeply did the idea
+impress him, that he dropped a hint of it as they rode together at some
+distance from the troop.
+
+“You are right,” said Claverhouse, with a smile; “you are very right--we
+are both fanatics; but there is some distinction between the fanaticism
+of honour and that of dark and sullen superstition.”
+
+“Yet you both shed blood without mercy or remorse,” said Morton, who
+could not suppress his feelings.
+
+“Surely,” said Claverhouse, with the same composure; “but of what
+kind?--There is a difference, I trust, between the blood of learned and
+reverend prelates and scholars, of gallant soldiers and noble gentlemen,
+and the red puddle that stagnates in the veins of psalm-singing
+mechanics, crackbrained demagogues, and sullen boors;--some distinction,
+in short, between spilling a flask of generous wine, and dashing down a
+can full of base muddy ale?”
+
+“Your distinction is too nice for my comprehension,” replied Morton. “God
+gives every spark of life--that of the peasant as well as of the prince;
+and those who destroy his work recklessly or causelessly, must answer in
+either case. What right, for example, have I to General Grahame’s
+protection now, more than when I first met him?”
+
+“And narrowly escaped the consequences, you would say?” answered
+Claverhouse--“why, I will answer you frankly. Then I thought I had to do
+with the son of an old roundheaded rebel, and the nephew of a sordid
+presbyterian laird; now I know your points better, and there is that
+about you which I respect in an enemy as much as I like in a friend. I
+have learned a good deal concerning you since our first meeting, and I
+trust that you have found that my construction of the information has not
+been unfavourable to you.”
+
+“But yet,” said Morton--
+
+“But yet,” interrupted Grahame, taking up the word, “you would say you
+were the same when I first met you that you are now? True; but then, how
+could I know that? though, by the by, even my reluctance to suspend your
+execution may show you how high your abilities stood in my estimation.”
+
+“Do you expect, General,” said Morton, “that I ought to be particularly
+grateful for such a mark of your esteem?”
+
+“Poh! poh! you are critical,” returned Claverhouse. “I tell you I thought
+you a different sort of person. Did you ever read Froissart?”
+
+“No,” was Morton’s answer.
+
+“I have half a mind,” said Claverhouse, “to contrive you should have six
+months’ imprisonment in order to procure you that pleasure. His chapters
+inspire me with more enthusiasm than even poetry itself. And the noble
+canon, with what true chivalrous feeling he confines his beautiful
+expressions of sorrow to the death of the gallant and high-bred knight,
+of whom it was a pity to see the fall, such was his loyalty to his king,
+pure faith to his religion, hardihood towards his enemy, and fidelity to
+his lady-love!--Ah, benedicite! how he will mourn over the fall of such a
+pearl of knighthood, be it on the side he happens to favour, or on the
+other. But, truly, for sweeping from the face of the earth some few
+hundreds of villain churls, who are born but to plough it, the high-born
+and inquisitive historian has marvellous little sympathy,--as little, or
+less, perhaps, than John Grahame of Claverhouse.”
+
+“There is one ploughman in your possession, General, for whom,” said
+Morton, “in despite of the contempt in which you hold a profession which
+some philosophers have considered as useful as that of a soldier, I would
+humbly request your favour.”
+
+“You mean,” said Claverhouse, looking at a memorandum book, “one
+Hatherick--Hedderick--or--or--Headrigg. Ay, Cuthbert, or Cuddie
+Headrigg--here I have him. O, never fear him, if he will be but
+tractable. The ladies of Tillietudlem made interest with me on his
+account some time ago. He is to marry their waiting-maid, I think. He
+will be allowed to slip off easy, unless his obstinacy spoils his good
+fortune.”
+
+“He has no ambition to be a martyr, I believe,” said Morton.
+
+“’Tis the better for him,” said Claverhouse. “But, besides, although the
+fellow had more to answer for, I should stand his friend, for the sake of
+the blundering gallantry which threw him into the midst of our ranks last
+night, when seeking assistance for you. I never desert any man who trusts
+me with such implicit confidence. But, to deal sincerely with you, he has
+been long in our eye.--Here, Halliday; bring me up the black book.”
+
+The sergeant, having committed to his commander this ominous record of
+the disaffected, which was arranged in alphabetical order, Claverhouse,
+turning over the leaves as he rode on, began to read names as they
+occurred.
+
+“Gumblegumption, a minister, aged 50, indulged, close, sly, and so
+forth--Pooh! pooh!--He--He--I have him here--Heathercat; outlawed--a
+preacher--a zealous Cameronian--keeps a conventicle among the Campsie
+hills--Tush!--O, here is Headrigg--Cuthbert; his mother a bitter
+puritan--himself a simple fellow--like to be forward in action, but of
+no genius for plots--more for the hand than the head, and might be drawn
+to the right side, but for his attachment to”--(Here Claverhouse looked
+at Morton, and then shut the book and changed his tone.) “Faithful and
+true are words never thrown away upon me, Mr Morton. You may depend on
+the young man’s safety.”
+
+“Does it not revolt a mind like yours,” said Morton, “to follow a system
+which is to be supported by such minute enquiries after obscure
+individuals?”
+
+“You do not suppose we take the trouble?” said the General, haughtily.
+“The curates, for their own sakes, willingly collect all these materials
+for their own regulation in each parish; they know best the black sheep
+of the flock. I have had your picture for three years.”
+
+“Indeed?” replied Morton. “Will you favour me by imparting it?”
+
+“Willingly,” said Claverhouse; “it can signify little, for you cannot
+avenge yourself on the curate, as you will probably leave Scotland for
+some time.”
+
+This was spoken in an indifferent tone. Morton felt an involuntary
+shudder at hearing words which implied a banishment from his native land;
+but ere he answered, Claverhouse proceeded to read, “Henry Morton, son of
+Silas Morton, Colonel of horse for the Scottish Parliament, nephew and
+apparent heir of Morton of Milnwood--imperfectly educated, but with
+spirit beyond his years--excellent at all exercises--indifferent to forms
+of religion, but seems to incline to the presbyterian--has high-flown and
+dangerous notions about liberty of thought and speech, and hovers between
+a latitudinarian and an enthusiast. Much admired and followed by the
+youth of his own age--modest, quiet, and unassuming in manner, but in his
+heart peculiarly bold and intractable. He is--Here follow three red
+crosses, Mr Morton, which signify triply dangerous. You see how important
+a person you are.--But what does this fellow want?”
+
+A horseman rode up as he spoke, and gave a letter. Claverhouse glanced it
+over, laughed scornfully, bade him tell his master to send his prisoners
+to Edinburgh, for there was no answer; and, as the man turned back, said
+contemptuously to Morton--“Here is an ally of yours deserted from you, or
+rather, I should say, an ally of your good friend Burley--Hear how he
+sets forth--‘Dear Sir,’ (I wonder when we were such intimates,) ‘may it
+please your Excellency to accept my humble congratulations on the
+victory’--hum--hum--‘blessed his Majesty’s army. I pray you to understand
+I have my people under arms to take and intercept all fugitives, and have
+already several prisoners,’ and so forth. Subscribed Basil Olifant--You
+know the fellow by name, I suppose?”
+
+“A relative of Lady Margaret Bellenden,” replied Morton, “is he not?”
+
+“Ay,” replied Grahame, “and heir-male of her father’s family, though a
+distant one, and moreover a suitor to the fair Edith, though discarded as
+an unworthy one; but, above all, a devoted admirer of the estate of
+Tillietudlem, and all thereunto belonging.”
+
+“He takes an ill mode of recommending himself,” said Morton, suppressing
+his feelings, “to the family at Tillietudlem, by corresponding with our
+unhappy party.”
+
+“O, this precious Basil will turn cat in pan with any man!” replied
+Claverhouse. “He was displeased with the government, because they would
+not overturn in his favour a settlement of the late Earl of Torwood, by
+which his lordship gave his own estate to his own daughter; he was
+displeased with Lady Margaret, because she avowed no desire for his
+alliance, and with the pretty Edith, because she did not like his tall
+ungainly person. So he held a close correspondence with Burley, and
+raised his followers with the purpose of helping him, providing always he
+needed no help, that is, if you had beat us yesterday. And now the rascal
+pretends he was all the while proposing the King’s service, and, for
+aught I know, the council will receive his pretext for current coin, for
+he knows how to make friends among them--and a dozen scores of poor
+vagabond fanatics will be shot, or hanged, while this cunning scoundrel
+lies hid under the double cloak of loyalty, well-lined with the fox-fur
+of hypocrisy.”
+
+With conversation on this and other matters they beguiled the way,
+Claverhouse all the while speaking with great frankness to Morton, and
+treating him rather as a friend and companion than as a prisoner; so
+that, however uncertain of his fate, the hours he passed in the company
+of this remarkable man were so much lightened by the varied play of his
+imagination, and the depth of his knowledge of human nature, that since
+the period of his becoming a prisoner of war, which relieved him at once
+from the cares of his doubtful and dangerous station among the
+insurgents, and from the consequences of their suspicious resentment, his
+hours flowed on less anxiously than at any time since his having
+commenced actor in public life. He was now, with respect to his fortune,
+like a rider who has flung his reins on the horse’s neck, and, while he
+abandoned himself to circumstances, was at least relieved from the task
+of attempting to direct them. In this mood he journeyed on, the number of
+his companions being continually augmented by detached parties of horse
+who came in from every quarter of the country, bringing with them, for
+the most part, the unfortunate persons who had fallen into their power.
+At length they approached Edinburgh.
+
+“Our council,” said Claverhouse, “being resolved, I suppose, to testify
+by their present exultation the extent of their former terror, have
+decreed a kind of triumphal entry to us victors and our captives; but as
+I do not quite approve the taste of it, I am willing to avoid my own part
+in the show, and, at the same time, to save you from yours.”
+
+So saying, he gave up the command of the forces to Allan, (now a
+Lieutenant-colonel,) and, turning his horse into a by-lane, rode into the
+city privately, accompanied by Morton and two or three servants. When
+Claverhouse arrived at the quarters which he usually occupied in the
+Canongate, he assigned to his prisoner a small apartment, with an
+intimation, that his parole confined him to it for the present.
+
+After about a quarter of an hour spent in solitary musing on the strange
+vicissitudes of his late life, the attention of Morton was summoned to
+the window by a great noise in the street beneath. Trumpets, drums, and
+kettle-drums, contended in noise with the shouts of a numerous rabble,
+and apprised him that the royal cavalry were passing in the triumphal
+attitude which Claverhouse had mentioned. The magistrates of the city,
+attended by their guard of halberds, had met the victors with their
+welcome at the gate of the city, and now preceded them as a part of the
+procession. The next object was two heads borne upon pikes; and before
+each bloody head were carried the hands of the dismembered sufferers,
+which were, by the brutal mockery of those who bore them, often
+approached towards each other as if in the attitude of exhortation or
+prayer. These bloody trophies belonged to two preachers who had fallen at
+Bothwell Bridge. After them came a cart led by the executioner’s
+assistant, in which were placed Macbriar, and other two prisoners, who
+seemed of the same profession. They were bareheaded, and strongly bound,
+yet looked around them with an air rather of triumph than dismay, and
+appeared in no respect moved either by the fate of their companions, of
+which the bloody evidences were carried before them, or by dread of their
+own approaching execution, which these preliminaries so plainly
+indicated.
+
+Behind these prisoners, thus held up to public infamy and derision, came
+a body of horse, brandishing their broadswords, and filling the wide
+street with acclamations, which were answered by the tumultuous outcries
+and shouts of the rabble, who, in every considerable town, are too happy
+in being permitted to huzza for any thing whatever which calls them
+together. In the rear of these troopers came the main body of the
+prisoners, at the head of whom were some of their leaders, who were
+treated with every circumstance of inventive mockery and insult. Several
+were placed on horseback with their faces to the animal’s tail; others
+were chained to long bars of iron, which they were obliged to support in
+their hands, like the galleyslaves in Spain when travelling to the port
+where they are to be put on shipboard. The heads of others who had fallen
+were borne in triumph before the survivors, some on pikes and halberds,
+some in sacks, bearing the names of the slaughtered persons labelled on
+the outside. Such were the objects who headed the ghastly procession, who
+seemed as effectually doomed to death as if they wore the sanbenitos of
+the condemned heretics in an auto-da-fe. [Note: David Hackston of
+Rathillet, who was wounded and made prisoner in the skirmish of
+Air’s-Moss, in which the celebrated Cameron fell, was, on entering
+Edinburgh, “by order of the Council, received by the Magistrates at the
+Watergate, and set on a horse’s bare back with his face to the tail, and
+the other three laid on a goad of iron, and carried up the street, Mr
+Cameron’s head being on a halberd before them.”]
+
+Behind them came on the nameless crowd to the number of several hundreds,
+some retaining under their misfortunes a sense of confidence in the cause
+for which they suffered captivity, and were about to give a still more
+bloody testimony; others seemed pale, dispirited, dejected, questioning
+in their own minds their prudence in espousing a cause which Providence
+seemed to have disowned, and looking about for some avenue through which
+they might escape from the consequences of their rashness. Others there
+were who seemed incapable of forming an opinion on the subject, or of
+entertaining either hope, confidence, or fear, but who, foaming with
+thirst and fatigue, stumbled along like over-driven oxen, lost to every
+thing but their present sense of wretchedness, and without having any
+distinct idea whether they were led to the shambles or to the pasture.
+These unfortunate men were guarded on each hand by troopers, and behind
+them came the main body of the cavalry, whose military music resounded
+back from the high houses on each side of the street, and mingled with
+their own songs of jubilee and triumph, and the wild shouts of the
+rabble.
+
+Morton felt himself heart-sick while he gazed on the dismal spectacle,
+and recognised in the bloody heads, and still more miserable and agonized
+features of the living sufferers, faces which had been familiar to him
+during the brief insurrection. He sunk down in a chair in a bewildered
+and stupified state, from which he was awakened by the voice of Cuddie.
+
+“Lord forgie us, sir!” said the poor fellow, his teeth chattering like a
+pair of nut-crackers, his hair erect like boar’s bristles, and his face
+as pale as that of a corpse--“Lord forgie us, sir! we maun instantly gang
+before the Council!--O Lord, what made them send for a puir bodie like
+me, sae mony braw lords and gentles!--and there’s my mither come on the
+lang tramp frae Glasgow to see to gar me testify, as she ca’s it, that is
+to say, confess and be hanged; but deil tak me if they mak sic a guse o’
+Cuddie, if I can do better. But here’s Claverhouse himsell--the Lord
+preserve and forgie us, I say anes mair!”
+
+“You must immediately attend the Council Mr Morton,” said Claverhouse,
+who entered while Cuddie spoke, “and your servant must go with you. You
+need be under no apprehension for the consequences to yourself
+personally. But I warn you that you will see something that will give you
+much pain, and from which I would willingly have saved you, if I had
+possessed the power. My carriage waits us--shall we go?”
+
+It will be readily supposed that Morton did not venture to dispute this
+invitation, however unpleasant. He rose and accompanied Claverhouse.
+
+“I must apprise you,” said the latter, as he led the way down stairs,
+“that you will get off cheap; and so will your servant, provided he can
+keep his tongue quiet.”
+
+Cuddie caught these last words to his exceeding joy.
+
+“Deil a fear o’ me,” said he, “an my mither disna pit her finger in the
+pie.”
+
+At that moment his shoulder was seized by old Mause, who had contrived to
+thrust herself forward into the lobby of the apartment.
+
+“O, hinny, hinny!” said she to Cuddie, hanging upon his neck, “glad and
+proud, and sorry and humbled am I, a’in ane and the same instant, to see
+my bairn ganging to testify for the truth gloriously with his mouth in
+council, as he did with his weapon in the field!”
+
+“Whisht, whisht, mither!” cried Cuddie impatiently. “Odd, ye daft wife,
+is this a time to speak o’ thae things? I tell ye I’ll testify naething
+either ae gate or another. I hae spoken to Mr Poundtext, and I’ll tak the
+declaration, or whate’er they ca’it, and we’re a’ to win free off if we
+do that--he’s gotten life for himsell and a’ his folk, and that’s a
+minister for my siller; I like nane o’ your sermons that end in a psalm
+at the Grassmarket.” [Note: Then the place of public execution.]
+
+“O, Cuddie, man, laith wad I be they suld hurt ye,” said old Mause,
+divided grievously between the safety of her son’s soul and that of his
+body; “but mind, my bonny bairn, ye hae battled for the faith, and dinna
+let the dread o’ losing creature-comforts withdraw ye frae the gude
+fight.”
+
+“Hout tout, mither,” replied Cuddie, “I hae fought e’en ower muckle
+already, and, to speak plain, I’m wearied o’the trade. I hae swaggered
+wi’ a’ thae arms, and muskets, and pistols, buffcoats, and bandoliers,
+lang eneugh, and I like the pleughpaidle a hantle better. I ken naething
+suld gar a man fight, (that’s to say, when he’s no angry,) by and
+out-taken the dread o’being hanged or killed if he turns back.”
+
+“But, my dear Cuddie,” continued the persevering Mause, “your bridal
+garment--Oh, hinny, dinna sully the marriage garment!”
+
+“Awa, awa, mither,” replied. Cuddie; “dinna ye see the folks waiting for
+me?--Never fear me--I ken how to turn this far better than ye do--for
+ye’re bleezing awa about marriage, and the job is how we are to win by
+hanging.”
+
+So saying, he extricated himself out of his mother’s embraces, and
+requested the soldiers who took him in charge to conduct him to the place
+of examination without delay. He had been already preceded by Claverhouse
+and Morton.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+                    My native land, good night!
+                                        Lord Byron.
+
+The Privy Council of Scotland, in whom the practice since the union of
+the crowns vested great judicial powers, as well as the general
+superintendence of the executive department, was met in the ancient dark
+Gothic room, adjoining to the House of Parliament in Edinburgh, when
+General Grahame entered and took his place amongst the members at the
+council table.
+
+“You have brought us a leash of game to-day, General,” said a nobleman of
+high place amongst them. “Here is a craven to confess--a cock of the game
+to stand at bay--and what shall I call the third, General?”
+
+“Without further metaphor, I will entreat your Grace to call him a person
+in whom I am specially interested,” replied Claverhouse.
+
+“And a whig into the bargain?” said the nobleman, lolling out a tongue
+which was at all times too big for his mouth, and accommodating his
+coarse features to a sneer, to which they seemed to be familiar.
+
+“Yes, please your Grace, a whig; as your Grace was in 1641,” replied
+Claverhouse, with his usual appearance of imperturbable civility.
+
+“He has you there, I think, my Lord Duke,” said one of the Privy
+Councillors.
+
+“Ay, ay,” returned the Duke, laughing, “there’s no speaking to him since
+Drumclog--but come, bring in the prisoners--and do you, Mr Clerk, read
+the record.”
+
+The clerk read forth a bond, in which General Grahame of Claverhouse and
+Lord Evandale entered themselves securities, that Henry Morton, younger
+of Milnwood, should go abroad and remain in foreign parts, until his
+Majesty’s pleasure was further known, in respect of the said Henry
+Morton’s accession to the late rebellion, and that under penalty of life
+and limb to the said Henry Morton, and of ten thousand marks to each of
+his securities.
+
+“Do you accept of the King’s mercy upon these terms, Mr Morton?” said the
+Duke of Lauderdale, who presided in the Council.
+
+“I have no other choice, my lord,” replied Morton.
+
+“Then subscribe your name in the record.”
+
+Morton did so without reply, conscious that, in the circumstances of his
+case, it was impossible for him to have escaped more easily. Macbriar,
+who was at the same instant brought to the foot of the council-table,
+bound upon a chair, for his weakness prevented him from standing, beheld
+Morton in the act of what he accounted apostasy.
+
+“He hath summed his defection by owning the carnal power of the tyrant!”
+ he exclaimed, with a deep groan--“A fallen star!--a fallen star!”
+
+“Hold your peace, sir,” said the Duke, “and keep your ain breath to cool
+your ain porridge--ye’ll find them scalding hot, I promise you.--Call in
+the other fellow, who has some common sense. One sheep will leap the
+ditch when another goes first.”
+
+Cuddie was introduced unbound, but under the guard of two halberdiers,
+and placed beside Macbriar at the foot of the table. The poor fellow cast
+a piteous look around him, in which were mingled awe for the great men in
+whose presence he stood, and compassion for his fellow-sufferers, with no
+small fear of the personal consequences which impended over himself. He
+made his clownish obeisances with a double portion of reverence, and then
+awaited the opening of the awful scene.
+
+“Were you at the battle of Bothwell Brigg?” was the first question which
+was thundered in his ears.
+
+Cuddie meditated a denial, but had sense enough, upon reflection, to
+discover that the truth would be too strong for him; so he replied, with
+true Caledonian indirectness of response, “I’ll no say but it may be
+possible that I might hae been there.”
+
+“Answer directly, you knave--yes, or no?--You know you were there.”
+
+“It’s no for me to contradict your Lordship’s Grace’s honour,” said
+Cuddie.
+
+“Once more, sir, were you there?--yes, or no?” said the Duke,
+impatiently.
+
+“Dear stir,” again replied Cuddie, “how can ane mind preceesely where
+they hae been a’ the days o’ their life?”
+
+“Speak out, you scoundrel,” said General Dalzell, “or I’ll dash your
+teeth out with my dudgeonhaft!--Do you think we can stand here all day to
+be turning and dodging with you, like greyhounds after a hare?” [Note:
+The General is said to have struck one of the captive whigs, when under
+examination, with the hilt of his sabre, so that the blood gushed out.
+The provocation for this unmanly violence was, that the prisoner had
+called the fierce veteran “a Muscovy beast, who used to roast men.”
+ Dalzell had been long in the Russian service, which in those days was no
+school of humanity.]
+
+“Aweel, then,” said Cuddie, “since naething else will please ye, write
+down that I cannot deny but I was there.”
+
+“Well, sir,” said the Duke, “and do you think that the rising upon that
+occasion was rebellion or not?”
+
+“I’m no just free to gie my opinion, stir,” said the cautious captive,
+“on what might cost my neck; but I doubt it will be very little better.”
+
+“Better than what?”
+
+“Just than rebellion, as your honour ca’s it,” replied Cuddie.
+
+“Well, sir, that’s speaking to the purpose,” replied his Grace. “And are
+you content to accept of the King’s pardon for your guilt as a rebel, and
+to keep the church, and pray for the King?”
+
+“Blithely, stir,” answered the unscrupulous Cuddie; “and drink his health
+into the bargain, when the ale’s gude.”
+
+“Egad,” said the Duke, “this is a hearty cock.--What brought you into
+such a scrape, mine honest friend?”
+
+“Just ill example, stir,” replied the prisoner, “and a daft auld jaud of
+a mither, wi’ reverence to your Grace’s honour.”
+
+“Why, God-a-mercy, my friend,” replied the Duke, “take care of bad advice
+another time; I think you are not likely to commit treason on your own
+score.--Make out his free pardon, and bring forward the rogue in the
+chair.”
+
+Macbriar was then moved forward to the post of examination.
+
+“Were you at the battle of Bothwell Bridge?” was, in like manner,
+demanded of him.
+
+“I was,” answered the prisoner, in a bold and resolute tone.
+
+“Were you armed?”
+
+“I was not--I went in my calling as a preacher of God’s word, to
+encourage them that drew the sword in His cause.”
+
+“In other words, to aid and abet the rebels?” said the Duke.
+
+“Thou hast spoken it,” replied the prisoner.
+
+“Well, then,” continued the interrogator, “let us know if you saw John
+Balfour of Burley among the party?--I presume you know him?”
+
+“I bless God that I do know him,” replied Macbriar; “he is a zealous and
+a sincere Christian.”
+
+“And when and where did you last see this pious personage?” was the query
+which immediately followed.
+
+“I am here to answer for myself,” said Macbriar, in the same dauntless
+manner, “and not to endanger others.”
+
+“We shall know,” said Dalzell, “how to make you find your tongue.”
+
+“If you can make him fancy himself in a conventicle,” answered
+Lauderdale, “he will find it without you.--Come, laddie, speak while the
+play is good--you’re too young to bear the burden will be laid on you
+else.”
+
+“I defy you,” retorted Macbriar. “This has not been the first of my
+imprisonments or of my sufferings; and, young as I may be, I have lived
+long enough to know how to die when I am called upon.”
+
+“Ay, but there are some things which must go before an easy death, if you
+continue obstinate,” said Lauderdale, and rung a small silver bell which
+was placed before him on the table.
+
+A dark crimson curtain, which covered a sort of niche, or Gothic recess
+in the wall, rose at the signal, and displayed the public executioner, a
+tall, grim, and hideous man, having an oaken table before him, on which
+lay thumb-screws, and an iron case, called the Scottish boot, used in
+those tyrannical days to torture accused persons. Morton, who was
+unprepared for this ghastly apparition, started when the curtain arose,
+but Macbriar’s nerves were more firm. He gazed upon the horrible
+apparatus with much composure; and if a touch of nature called the blood
+from his cheek for a second, resolution sent it back to his brow with
+greater energy.
+
+“Do you know who that man is?” said Lauderdale, in a low, stern voice,
+almost sinking into a whisper.
+
+“He is, I suppose,” replied Macbriar, “the infamous executioner of your
+bloodthirsty commands upon the persons of God’s people. He and you are
+equally beneath my regard; and, I bless God, I no more fear what he can
+inflict than what you can command. Flesh and blood may shrink under the
+sufferings you can doom me to, and poor frail nature may shed tears, or
+send forth cries; but I trust my soul is anchored firmly on the rock of
+ages.”
+
+“Do your duty,” said the Duke to the executioner.
+
+The fellow advanced, and asked, with a harsh and discordant voice, upon
+which of the prisoner’s limbs he should first employ his engine.
+
+“Let him choose for himself,” said the Duke; “I should like to oblige him
+in any thing that is reasonable.”
+
+“Since you leave it to me,” said the prisoner, stretching forth his right
+leg, “take the best--I willingly bestow it in the cause for which I
+suffer.” [Note: This was the reply actually made by James Mitchell when
+subjected to the torture of the boot, for an attempt to assassinate
+Archbishop Sharpe.]
+
+The executioner, with the help of his assistants, enclosed the leg and
+knee within the tight iron boot, or case, and then placing a wedge of the
+same metal between the knee and the edge of the machine, took a mallet in
+his hand, and stood waiting for farther orders. A well-dressed man, by
+profession a surgeon, placed himself by the other side of the prisoner’s
+chair, bared the prisoner’s arm, and applied his thumb to the pulse in
+order to regulate the torture according to the strength of the patient.
+When these preparations were made, the President of the Council repeated
+with the same stern voice the question, “When and where did you last see
+John Balfour of Burley?”
+
+The prisoner, instead of replying to him, turned his eyes to heaven as if
+imploring Divine strength, and muttered a few words, of which the last
+were distinctly audible, “Thou hast said thy people shall be willing in
+the day of thy power!”
+
+The Duke of Lauderdale glanced his eye around the council as if to
+collect their suffrages, and, judging from their mute signs, gave on his
+own part a nod to the executioner, whose mallet instantly descended on
+the wedge, and, forcing it between the knee and the iron boot, occasioned
+the most exquisite pain, as was evident from the flush which instantly
+took place on the brow and on the cheeks of the sufferer. The fellow then
+again raised his weapon, and stood prepared to give a second blow.
+
+“Will you yet say,” repeated the Duke of Lauderdale, “where and when you
+last parted from Balfour of Burley?”
+
+“You have my answer,” said the sufferer resolutely, and the second blow
+fell. The third and fourth succeeded; but at the fifth, when a larger
+wedge had been introduced, the prisoner set up a scream of agony.
+
+Morton, whose blood boiled within him at witnessing such cruelty, could
+bear no longer, and, although unarmed and himself in great danger, was
+springing forward, when Claverhouse, who observed his emotion, withheld
+him by force, laying one hand on his arm and the other on his mouth,
+while he whispered, “For God’s sake, think where you are!”
+
+This movement, fortunately for him, was observed by no other of the
+councillors, whose attention was engaged with the dreadful scene before
+them.
+
+“He is gone,” said the surgeon--“he has fainted, my Lords, and human
+nature can endure no more.”
+
+“Release him,” said the Duke; and added, turning to Dalzell, “He will
+make an old proverb good, for he’ll scarce ride to-day, though he has had
+his boots on. I suppose we must finish with him?”
+
+“Ay, dispatch his sentence, and have done with him; we have plenty of
+drudgery behind.”
+
+Strong waters and essences were busily employed to recall the senses of
+the unfortunate captive; and, when his first faint gasps intimated a
+return of sensation, the Duke pronounced sentence of death upon him, as a
+traitor taken in the act of open rebellion, and adjudged him to be
+carried from the bar to the common place of execution, and there hanged
+by the neck; his head and hands to be stricken off after death, and
+disposed of according to the pleasure of the Council, [Note: The pleasure
+of the Council respecting the relics of their victims was often as savage
+as the rest of their conduct. The heads of the preachers were frequently
+exposed on pikes between their two hands, the palms displayed as in the
+attitude of prayer. When the celebrated Richard Cameron’s head was
+exposed in this manner, a spectator bore testimony to it as that of one
+who lived praying and preaching, and died praying and fighting.] and all
+and sundry his movable goods and gear escheat and inbrought to his
+Majesty’s use.
+
+“Doomster,” he continued, “repeat the sentence to the prisoner.”
+
+The office of Doomster was in those days, and till a much later period,
+held by the executioner in commendam, with his ordinary functions. [Note:
+See a note on the subject of this office in the Heart of Mid-Lothian.]
+The duty consisted in reciting to the unhappy criminal the sentence of
+the law as pronounced by the judge, which acquired an additional and
+horrid emphasis from the recollection, that the hateful personage by whom
+it was uttered was to be the agent of the cruelties he denounced.
+Macbriar had scarce understood the purport of the words as first
+pronounced by the Lord President of the Council; but he was sufficiently
+recovered to listen and to reply to the sentence when uttered by the
+harsh and odious voice of the ruffian who was to execute it, and at the
+last awful words, “And this I pronounce for doom,” he answered boldly--
+“My Lords, I thank you for the only favour I looked for, or would accept
+at your hands, namely, that you have sent the crushed and maimed carcass,
+which has this day sustained your cruelty, to this hasty end. It were
+indeed little to me whether I perish on the gallows or in the
+prison-house; but if death, following close on what I have this day
+suffered, had found me in my cell of darkness and bondage, many might
+have lost the sight how a Christian man can suffer in the good cause. For
+the rest, I forgive you, my Lords, for what you have appointed and I have
+sustained--And why should I not?--Ye send me to a happy exchange--to the
+company of angels and the spirits of the just, for that of frail dust
+and ashes--Ye send me from darkness into day--from mortality to
+immortality--and, in a word, from earth to heaven!--If the thanks,
+therefore, and pardon of a dying man can do you good, take them at my
+hand, and may your last moments be as happy as mine!”
+
+As he spoke thus, with a countenance radiant with joy and triumph, he was
+withdrawn by those who had brought him into the apartment, and executed
+within half an hour, dying with the same enthusiastic firmness which his
+whole life had evinced.
+
+The Council broke up, and Morton found himself again in the carriage with
+General Grahame.
+
+“Marvellous firmness and gallantry!” said Morton, as he reflected upon
+Macbriar’s conduct; “what a pity it is that with such self-devotion and
+heroism should have been mingled the fiercer features of his sect!”
+
+“You mean,” said Claverhouse, “his resolution to condemn you to death?--
+To that he would have reconciled himself by a single text; for example,
+‘And Phinehas arose and executed judgment,’ or something to the same
+purpose.--But wot ye where you are now bound, Mr Morton?”
+
+“We are on the road to Leith, I observe,” answered Morton. “Can I not be
+permitted to see my friends ere I leave my native land?”
+
+“Your uncle,” replied Grahame, “has been spoken to, and declines visiting
+you. The good gentleman is terrified, and not without some reason, that
+the crime of your treason may extend itself over his lands and
+tenements--he sends you, however, his blessing, and a small sum of money.
+Lord Evandale continues extremely indisposed. Major Bellenden is at
+Tillietudlem putting matters in order. The scoundrels have made great
+havoc there with Lady Margaret’s muniments of antiquity, and have
+desecrated and destroyed what the good lady called the Throne of his most
+Sacred Majesty. Is there any one else whom you would wish to see?”
+
+Morton sighed deeply as he answered, “No--it would avail nothing.--But my
+preparations,--small as they are, some must be necessary.”
+
+“They are all ready for you,” said the General. “Lord Evandale has
+anticipated all you wish. Here is a packet from him with letters of
+recommendation for the court of the Stadtholder Prince of Orange, to
+which I have added one or two. I made my first campaigns under him, and
+first saw fire at the battle of Seneff. [Note: August 1674. Claverhouse
+greatly distinguished himself in this action, and was made Captain.]
+There are also bills of exchange for your immediate wants, and more will
+be sent when you require it.”
+
+Morton heard all this and received the parcel with an astounded and
+confused look, so sudden was the execution of the sentence of banishment.
+
+“And my servant?” he said.
+
+“He shall be taken care of, and replaced, if it be practicable, in the
+service of Lady Margaret Bellenden; I think he will hardly neglect the
+parade of the feudal retainers, or go a-whigging a second time.--But here
+we are upon the quay, and the boat waits you.”
+
+It was even as Claverhouse said. A boat waited for Captain Morton, with
+the trunks and baggage belonging to his rank. Claverhouse shook him by
+the hand, and wished him good fortune, and a happy return to Scotland in
+quieter times.
+
+“I shall never forget,” he said, “the gallantry of your behaviour to my
+friend Evandale, in circumstances when many men would have sought to rid
+him out of their way.”
+
+Another friendly pressure, and they parted. As Morton descended the pier
+to get into the boat, a hand placed in his a letter folded up in very
+small space. He looked round. The person who gave it seemed much muffled
+up; he pressed his finger upon his lip, and then disappeared among the
+crowd. The incident awakened Morton’s curiosity; and when he found
+himself on board of a vessel bound for Rotterdam, and saw all his
+companions of the voyage busy making their own arrangements, he took an
+opportunity to open the billet thus mysteriously thrust upon him. It ran
+thus:--“Thy courage on the fatal day when Israel fled before his
+enemies, hath, in some measure, atoned for thy unhappy owning of the
+Erastian interest. These are not days for Ephraim to strive with Israel.
+--I know thy heart is with the daughter of the stranger. But turn from
+that folly; for in exile, and in flight, and even in death itself, shall
+my hand be heavy against that bloody and malignant house, and Providence
+hath given me the means of meting unto them with their own measure of
+ruin and confiscation. The resistance of their stronghold was the main
+cause of our being scattered at Bothwell Bridge, and I have bound it upon
+my soul to visit it upon them. Wherefore, think of her no more, but join
+with our brethren in banishment, whose hearts are still towards this
+miserable land to save and to relieve her. There is an honest remnant in
+Holland whose eyes are looking out for deliverance. Join thyself unto
+them like the true son of the stout and worthy Silas Morton, and thou
+wilt have good acceptance among them for his sake and for thine own
+working. Shouldst thou be found worthy again to labour in the vineyard,
+thou wilt at all times hear of my in-comings and out-goings, by enquiring
+after Quintin Mackell of Irongray, at the house of that singular
+Christian woman, Bessie Maclure, near to the place called the Howff,
+where Niel Blane entertaineth guests. So much from him who hopes to hear
+again from thee in brotherhood, resisting unto blood, and striving
+against sin. Meanwhile, possess thyself in patience. Keep thy sword
+girded, and thy lamp burning, as one that wakes in the night; for He who
+shall judge the Mount of Esau, and shall make false professors as straw,
+and malignants as stubble, will come in the fourth watch with garments
+dyed in blood, and the house of Jacob shall be for spoil, and the house
+of Joseph for fire. I am he that hath written it, whose hand hath been on
+the mighty in the waste field.”
+
+This extraordinary letter was subscribed J. B. of B.; but the signature
+of these initials was not necessary for pointing out to Morton that it
+could come from no other than Burley. It gave him new occasion to admire
+the indomitable spirit of this man, who, with art equal to his courage
+and obstinacy, was even now endeavouring to re-establish the web of
+conspiracy which had been so lately torn to pieces. But he felt no sort
+of desire, in the present moment, to sustain a correspondence which must
+be perilous, or to renew an association, which, in so many ways, had been
+nearly fatal to him. The threats which Burley held out against the family
+of Bellenden, he considered as a mere expression of his spleen on account
+of their defence of Tillietudlem; and nothing seemed less likely than
+that, at the very moment of their party being victorious, their fugitive
+and distressed adversary could exercise the least influence over their
+fortunes.
+
+Morton, however, hesitated for an instant, whether he should not send
+the Major or Lord Evandale intimation of Burley’s threats. Upon
+consideration, he thought he could not do so without betraying his
+confidential correspondence; for to warn them of his menaces would have
+served little purpose, unless he had given them a clew to prevent them,
+by apprehending his person; while, by doing so, he deemed he should
+commit an ungenerous breach of trust to remedy an evil which seemed
+almost imaginary. Upon mature consideration, therefore, he tore the
+letter, having first made a memorandum of the name and place where the
+writer was to be heard of, and threw the fragments into the sea.
+
+While Morton was thus employed the vessel was unmoored, and the white
+sails swelled out before a favourable north-west wind. The ship leaned
+her side to the gale, and went roaring through the waves, leaving a long
+and rippling furrow to track her course. The city and port from which he
+had sailed became undistinguishable in the distance; the hills by which
+they were surrounded melted finally into the blue sky, and Morton was
+separated for several years from the land of his nativity.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+                    Whom does time gallop withal?
+                                        As You Like It.
+
+It is fortunate for tale-tellers that they are not tied down like
+theatrical writers to the unities of time and place, but may conduct
+their personages to Athens and Thebes at their pleasure, and bring them
+back at their convenience. Time, to use Rosalind’s simile, has hitherto
+paced with the hero of our tale; for betwixt Morton’s first appearance as
+a competitor for the popinjay and his final departure for Holland hardly
+two months elapsed. Years, however, glided away ere we find it possible
+to resume the thread of our narrative, and Time must be held to have
+galloped over the interval. Craving, therefore, the privilege of my cast,
+I entreat the reader’s attention to the continuation of the narrative, as
+it starts from a new era, being the year immediately subsequent to the
+British Revolution.
+
+Scotland had just begun to repose from the convulsion occasioned by a
+change of dynasty, and, through the prudent tolerance of King William,
+had narrowly escaped the horrors of a protracted civil war. Agriculture
+began to revive, and men, whose minds had been disturbed by the violent
+political concussions, and the general change of government in Church and
+State, had begun to recover their ordinary temper, and to give the usual
+attention to their own private affairs, in lieu of discussing those of
+the public. The Highlanders alone resisted the newly established order of
+things, and were in arms in a considerable body under the Viscount of
+Dundee, whom our readers have hitherto known by the name of Grahame of
+Claverhouse. But the usual state of the Highlands was so unruly that
+their being more or less disturbed was not supposed greatly to affect the
+general tranquillity of the country, so long as their disorders were
+confined within their own frontiers. In the Lowlands, the Jacobites, now
+the undermost party, had ceased to expect any immediate advantage by open
+resistance, and were, in their turn, driven to hold private meetings, and
+form associations for mutual defence, which the government termed
+treason, while they cried out persecution.
+
+The triumphant Whigs, while they re-established Presbytery as the
+national religion, and assigned to the General Assemblies of the Kirk
+their natural influence, were very far from going the lengths which the
+Cameronians and more extravagant portion of the nonconformists under
+Charles and James loudly demanded. They would listen to no proposal for
+re-establishing the Solemn League and Covenant; and those who had
+expected to find in King William a zealous Covenanted Monarch, were
+grievously disappointed when he intimated, with the phlegm peculiar to
+his country, his intention to tolerate all forms of religion which were
+consistent with the safety of the State. The principles of indulgence
+thus espoused and gloried in by the Government gave great offence to the
+more violent party, who condemned them as diametrically contrary to
+Scripture,--for which narrow-spirited doctrine they cited various texts,
+all, as it may well be supposed, detached from their context, and most of
+them derived from the charges given to the Jews in the Old Testament
+dispensation to extirpate idolaters out of the Promised Land. They also
+murmured highly against the influence assumed by secular persons in
+exercising the rights of patronage, which they termed a rape upon the
+chastity of the Church. They censured and condemned as Erastian many of
+the measures by which Government after the Revolution showed an
+inclination to interfere with the management of the Church, and they
+positively refused to take the oath of allegiance to King William and
+Queen Mary until they should, on their part, have sworn to the Solemn
+League--and Covenant, the Magna Charta, as they termed it, of the
+Presbyterian Church.
+
+This party, therefore, remained grumbling and dissatisfied, and made
+repeated declarations against defections and causes of wrath, which, had
+they been prosecuted as in the two former reigns, would have led to the
+same consequence of open rebellion. But as the murmurers were allowed to
+hold their meetings uninterrupted, and to testify as much as they pleased
+against Socinianism, Erastianism, and all the compliances and defections
+of the time, their zeal, unfanned by persecution, died gradually away,
+their numbers became diminished, and they sunk into the scattered remnant
+of serious, scrupulous, and harmless enthusiasts, of whom Old Mortality,
+whose legends have afforded the groundwork of my tale, may be taken as no
+bad representative. But in the years which immediately succeeded the
+Revolution, the Cameronians continued a sect strong in numbers and
+vehement in their political opinions, whom Government wished to
+discourage, while they prudently temporised with them. These men formed
+one violent party in the State; and the Episcopalian and Jacobite
+interest, notwithstanding their ancient and national animosity, yet
+repeatedly endeavoured to intrigue among them, and avail themselves of
+their discontents, to obtain their assistance in recalling the Stewart
+family. The Revolutionary Government in the mean while, was supported by
+the great bulk of the Lowland interest, who were chiefly disposed to a
+moderate Presbytery, and formed in a great measure the party who in the
+former oppressive reigns were stigmatized by the Cameronians for having
+exercised that form of worship under the declaration of Indulgence issued
+by Charles II. Such was the state of parties in Scotland immediately
+subsequent to the Revolution.
+
+It was on a delightful summer evening that a stranger, well mounted, and
+having the appearance of a military man of rank, rode down a winding
+descent which terminated in view of the romantic ruins of Bothwell Castle
+and the river Clyde, which winds so beautifully between rocks and woods
+to sweep around the towers formerly built by Aymer de Valence. Bothwell
+Bridge was at a little distance, and also in sight. The opposite field,
+once the scene of slaughter and conflict, now lay as placid and quiet as
+the surface of a summer lake. The trees and bushes, which grew around in
+romantic variety of shade, were hardly seen to stir under the influence
+of the evening breeze. The very murmur of the river seemed to soften
+itself into unison with the stillness of the scene around.
+
+The path through which the traveller descended was occasionally shaded by
+detached trees of great size, and elsewhere by the hedges and boughs of
+flourishing orchards, now laden with summer fruits.
+
+The nearest object of consequence was a farmhouse, or, it might be, the
+abode of a small proprietor, situated on the side of a sunny bank which
+was covered by apple and pear trees. At the foot of the path which led up
+to this modest mansion was a small cottage, pretty much in the situation
+of a porter’s lodge, though obviously not designed for such a purpose.
+The hut seemed comfortable, and more neatly arranged than is usual in
+Scotland. It had its little garden, where some fruit-trees and bushes
+were mingled with kitchen herbs; a cow and six sheep fed in a paddock
+hard by; the cock strutted and crowed, and summoned his family around him
+before the door; a heap of brushwood and turf, neatly made up, indicated
+that the winter fuel was provided; and the thin blue smoke which ascended
+from the straw-bound chimney, and winded slowly out from among the green
+trees, showed that the evening meal was in the act of being made ready.
+To complete the little scene of rural peace and comfort, a girl of about
+five years old was fetching water in a pitcher from a beautiful fountain
+of the purest transparency, which bubbled up at the root of a decayed old
+oak-tree about twenty yards from the end of the cottage.
+
+The stranger reined up his horse and called to the little nymph, desiring
+to know the way to Fairy Knowe. The child set down her water-pitcher,
+hardly understanding what was said to her, put her fair flaxen hair apart
+on her brows, and opened her round blue eyes with the wondering “What’s
+your wull?” which is usually a peasant’s first answer, if it can be
+called one, to all questions whatever.
+
+“I wish to know the way to Fairy Knowe.”
+
+“Mammie, mammie,” exclaimed the little rustic, running towards the door
+of the hut, “come out and speak to the gentleman.”
+
+Her mother appeared,--a handsome young country-woman, to whose features,
+originally sly and espiegle in expression, matrimony had given that
+decent matronly air which peculiarly marks the peasant’s wife of
+Scotland. She had an infant in one arm, and with the other she smoothed
+down her apron, to which hung a chubby child of two years old. The elder
+girl, whom the traveller had first seen, fell back behind her mother as
+soon as she appeared, and kept that station, occasionally peeping out to
+look at the stranger.
+
+“What was your pleasure, sir?” said the woman, with an air of respectful
+breeding not quite common in her rank of life, but without anything
+resembling forwardness.
+
+The stranger looked at her with great earnestness for a moment, and then
+replied, “I am seeking a place called Fairy Knowe, and a man called
+Cuthbert Headrigg. You can probably direct me to him?”
+
+“It’s my gudeman, sir,” said the young woman, with a smile of welcome.
+“Will you alight, sir, and come into our puir dwelling?--Cuddie,
+Cuddie,”--a white-headed rogue of four years appeared at the door of the
+hut--“rin awa, my bonny man, and tell your father a gentleman wants him.
+Or, stay,--Jenny, ye’ll hae mair sense: rin ye awa and tell him; he’s
+down at the Four-acres Park.--Winna ye light down and bide a blink, sir?
+Or would ye take a mouthfu’ o’ bread and cheese, or a drink o’ ale, till
+our gudeman comes. It’s gude ale, though I shouldna say sae that brews
+it; but ploughmanlads work hard, and maun hae something to keep their
+hearts abune by ordinar, sae I aye pit a gude gowpin o’ maut to the
+browst.”
+
+As the stranger declined her courteous offers, Cuddie, the reader’s old
+acquaintance, made his appearance in person. His countenance still
+presented the same mixture of apparent dulness with occasional sparkles,
+which indicated the craft so often found in the clouted shoe. He looked
+on the rider as on one whom he never had before seen, and, like his
+daughter and wife, opened the conversation with the regular query,
+“What’s your wull wi’ me, sir?”
+
+“I have a curiosity to ask some questions about this country,” said the
+traveller, “and I was directed to you as an intelligent man who can
+answer them.”
+
+“Nae doubt, sir,” said Cuddie, after a moment’s hesitation. “But I would
+first like to ken what sort of questions they are. I hae had sae mony
+questions speered at me in my day, and in sic queer ways, that if ye kend
+a’, ye wadna wonder at my jalousing a’ thing about them. My mother gar ’d
+me learn the Single Carritch, whilk was a great vex; then I behoved to
+learn about my godfathers and godmothers to please the auld leddy; and
+whiles I jumbled them thegether and pleased nane o’ them; and when I cam
+to man’s yestate, cam another kind o’ questioning in fashion that I liked
+waur than Effectual Calling; and the ‘did promise and vow’ of the tape
+were yokit to the end o’ the tother. Sae ye see, sir, I aye like to hear
+questions asked befor I answer them.”
+
+“You have nothing to apprehend from mine, my good friend; they only
+relate to the state of the country.”
+
+“Country?” replied Cuddie; “ou, the country’s weel eneugh, an it werena
+that dour deevil, Claver’se (they ca’ him Dundee now), that’s stirring
+about yet in the Highlands, they say, wi’ a’ the Donalds and Duncans and
+Dugalds, that ever wore bottomless breeks, driving about wi’ him, to set
+things asteer again, now we hae gotten them a’ reasonably weel settled.
+But Mackay will pit him down, there’s little doubt o’ that; he’ll gie him
+his fairing, I’ll be caution for it.”
+
+“What makes you so positive of that, my friend?” asked the horseman.
+
+“I heard it wi’ my ain lugs,” answered Cuddie, “foretauld to him by a man
+that had been three hours stane dead, and came back to this earth again
+just to tell him his mind. It was at a place they ca’ Drumshinnel.”
+
+“Indeed?” said the stranger. “I can hardly believe you, my friend.”
+
+“Ye might ask my mither, then, if she were in life,” said Cuddie; “it was
+her explained it a’ to me, for I thought the man had only been wounded.
+At ony rate, he spake of the casting out of the Stewarts by their very
+names, and the vengeance that was brewing for Claver’se and his dragoons.
+They ca’d the man Habakkuk Mucklewrath; his brain was a wee ajee, but he
+was a braw preacher for a’ that.”
+
+“You seem,” said the stranger, “to live in a rich and peaceful country.”
+
+“It’s no to compleen o’, sir, an we get the crap weel in,” quoth Cuddie;
+“but if ye had seen the blude rinnin’ as fast on the tap o’ that brigg
+yonder as ever the water ran below it, ye wadna hae thought it sae bonnie
+a spectacle.”
+
+“You mean the battle some years since? I was waiting upon Monmouth that
+morning, my good friend, and did see some part of the action,” said the
+stranger.
+
+“Then ye saw a bonny stour,” said Cuddie, “that sail serve me for
+fighting a’ the days o’ my life. I judged ye wad be a trooper, by your
+red scarlet lace-coat and your looped hat.”
+
+“And which side were you upon, my friend?” continued the inquisitive
+stranger.
+
+“Aha, lad?” retorted Cuddie, with a knowing look, or what he designed for
+such,--“there ’s nae use in telling that, unless I kend wha was asking
+me.”
+
+“I commend your prudence, but it is unnecessary; I know you acted on that
+occasion as servant to Henry Morton.”
+
+“Ay!” said Cuddie, in surprise, “how came ye by that secret? No that I
+need care a bodee about it, for the sun’s on our side o’ the hedge now. I
+wish my master were living to get a blink o’t.”
+
+“And what became of him?” said the rider.
+
+“He was lost in the vessel gaun to that weary Holland,--clean lost; and
+a’ body perished, and my poor master amang them. Neither man nor mouse
+was ever heard o’ mair.” Then Cuddie uttered a groan.
+
+“You had some regard for him, then?” continued the stranger.
+
+“How could I help it? His face was made of a fiddle, as they say, for a’
+body that looked on him liked him. And a braw soldier he was. Oh, an ye
+had but seen him down at the brigg there, fleeing about like a fleeing
+dragon to gar folk fight that had unto little will till ’t! There was he
+and that sour Whigamore they ca’d Burley: if twa men could hae won a
+field, we wadna hae gotten our skins paid that day.”
+
+“You mention Burley: do you know if he yet lives?”
+
+“I kenna muckle about him. Folk say he was abroad, and our sufferers wad
+hold no communion wi’ him, because o’ his having murdered the archbishop.
+Sae he cam hame ten times dourer than ever, and broke aff wi’ mony o’ the
+Presbyterians; and at this last coming of the Prince of Orange he could
+get nae countenance nor command for fear of his deevilish temper, and he
+hasna been heard of since; only some folk say that pride and anger hae
+driven him clean wud.”
+
+“And--and,” said the traveller, after considerable hesitation,--“do you
+know anything of Lord Evan dale?”
+
+“Div I ken onything o’ Lord Evandale? Div I no? Is not my young leddy up
+by yonder at the house, that’s as gude as married to him?”
+
+“And are they not married, then?” said the rider, hastily.
+
+“No, only what they ca’ betrothed,--me and my wife were witnesses. It’s
+no mony months bypast; it was a lang courtship,--few folk kend the reason
+by Jenny and mysell. But will ye no light down? I downa bide to see ye
+sitting up there, and the clouds are casting up thick in the west ower
+Glasgow-ward, and maist skeily folk think that bodes rain.”
+
+In fact, a deep black cloud had already surmounted the setting sun; a few
+large drops of rain fell, and the murmurs of distant thunder were heard.
+
+“The deil’s in this man,” said Cuddie to himself; “I wish he would either
+light aff or ride on, that he may quarter himsell in Hamilton or the
+shower begin.”
+
+But the rider sate motionless on his horse for two or three moments after
+his last question, like one exhausted by some uncommon effort. At length,
+recovering himself as if with a sudden and painful effort, he asked
+Cuddie “if Lady Margaret Bellenden still lived.”
+
+“She does,” replied Cuddie, “but in a very sma’ way. They hae been a sad
+changed family since thae rough times began; they hae suffered eneugh
+first and last,--and to lose the auld Tower and a’ the bonny barony and
+the holms that I hae pleughed sae often, and the Mains, and my kale-yard,
+that I suld hae gotten back again, and a’ for naething, as ’a body may
+say, but just the want o’ some bits of sheep-skin that were lost in the
+confusion of the taking of Tillietudlem.”
+
+“I have heard something of this,” said the stranger, deepening his voice
+and averting his head. “I have some interest in the family, and would
+willingly help them if I could. Can you give me a bed in your house
+to-night, my friend?”
+
+“It’s but a corner of a place, sir,” said Cuddie, “but we’se try, rather
+than ye suld ride on in the rain and thunner; for, to be free wi’ ye,
+sir, I think ye seem no that ower weel.”
+
+“I am liable to a dizziness,” said the stranger, “but it will soon wear
+off.”
+
+“I ken we can gie ye a decent supper, sir,” said Cuddie; “and we’ll see
+about a bed as weel as we can. We wad be laith a stranger suld lack what
+we have, though we are jimply provided for in beds rather; for Jenny has
+sae mony bairns (God bless them and her) that troth I maun speak to Lord
+Evandale to gie us a bit eik, or outshot o’ some sort, to the onstead.”
+
+“I shall be easily accommodated,” said the stranger, as he entered the
+house.
+
+“And ye may rely on your naig being weel sorted,” said Cuddie; “I ken
+weel what belangs to suppering a horse, and this is a very gude ane.”
+ Cuddie took the horse to the little cow-house, and called to his wife to
+attend in the mean while to the stranger’s accommodation. The officer
+entered, and threw himself on a settle at some distance from the fire,
+and carefully turning his back to the little lattice window. Jenny, or
+Mrs. Headrigg, if the reader pleases, requested him to lay aside the
+cloak, belt, and flapped hat which he wore upon his journey, but he
+excused himself under pretence of feeling cold, and, to divert the time
+till Cuddie’s return, he entered into some chat with the children,
+carefully avoiding, during the interval, the inquisitive glances of his
+landlady.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+                    What tragic tears bedim the eye!
+                    What deaths we suffer ere we die!
+                    Our broken friendships we deplore,
+                    And loves of youth that are no more.
+                                        LOGAN.
+
+Cuddie soon returned, assuring the stranger, with a cheerful voice, “that
+the horse was properly suppered up, and that the gudewife should make a
+bed up for him at the house, mair purpose-like and comfortable than the
+like o’ them could gie him.”
+
+“Are the family at the house?” said the stranger, with an interrupted and
+broken voice.
+
+“No, stir, they’re awa wi’ a’ the servants,--they keep only twa nowadays,
+and my gudewife there has the keys and the charge, though she’s no a
+fee’d servant. She has been born and bred in the family, and has a’ trust
+and management. If they were there, we behovedna to take sic freedom
+without their order; but when they are awa, they will be weel pleased we
+serve a stranger gentleman. Miss Bellenden wad help a’ the haill warld,
+an her power were as gude as her will; and her grandmother, Leddy
+Margaret, has an unto respect for the gentry, and she’s no ill to the
+poor bodies neither.--And now, wife, what for are ye no getting forrit
+wi’ the sowens?”
+
+“Never mind, lad,” rejoined Jenny, “ye sall hae them in gude time; I ken
+weel that ye like your brose het.”
+
+Cuddie fidgeted and laughed with a peculiar expression of intelligence at
+this repartee, which was followed by a dialogue of little consequence
+betwixt his wife and him, in which the stranger took no share. At length
+he suddenly interrupted them by the question: “Can you tell me when Lord
+Evandale’s marriage takes place?”
+
+“Very soon, we expect,” answered Jenny, before it was possible for her
+husband to reply; “it wad hae been ower afore now, but for the death o’
+auld Major Bellenden.”
+
+“The excellent old man!” said the stranger; “I heard at Edinburgh he was
+no more. Was he long ill?”
+
+“He couldna be said to haud up his head after his brother’s wife and his
+niece were turned out o’ their ain house; and he had himsell sair
+borrowing siller to stand the law,--but it was in the latter end o’ King
+James’s days; and Basil Olifant, who claimed the estate, turned a papist
+to please the managers, and then naething was to be refused him. Sae the
+law gaed again the leddies at last, after they had fought a weary sort o’
+years about it; and, as I said before, the major ne’er held up his head
+again. And then cam the pitting awa o’ the Stewart line; and, though he
+had but little reason to like them, he couldna brook that, and it clean
+broke the heart o’ him; and creditors cam to Charnwood and cleaned out a’
+that was there,--he was never rich, the gude auld man, for he dow’d na
+see onybody want.”
+
+“He was indeed,” said the stranger, with a faltering voice, “an admirable
+man,--that is, I have heard that he was so. So the ladies were left
+without fortune, as well as without a protector?”
+
+“They will neither want the tane nor the tother while Lord Evandale
+lives,” said Jenny; “he has been a true friend in their griefs. E’en to
+the house they live in is his lordship’s; and never man, as my auld
+gudemother used to say, since the days of the Patriarch Jacob, served sae
+lang and sae sair for a wife as gude Lord Evandale has dune.”
+
+“And why,” said the stranger, with a voice that quivered with emotion,
+“why was he not sooner rewarded by the object of his attachment?”
+
+“There was the lawsuit to be ended,” said Jenny readily, “forby many
+other family arrangements.”
+
+“Na, but,” said Cuddie, “there was another reason forby; for the young
+leddy--”
+
+“Whisht, hand your tongue, and sup your sowens,” said his wife; “I see
+the gentleman’s far frae weel, and downa eat our coarse supper. I wad
+kill him a chicken in an instant.”
+
+“There is no occasion,” said the stranger; “I shall want only a glass of
+water, and to be left alone.”
+
+“You’ll gie yoursell the trouble then to follow me,” said Jenny, lighting
+a small lantern, “and I’ll show you the way.”
+
+Cuddie also proffered his assistance; but his wife reminded him, “That
+the bairns would be left to fight thegither, and coup ane anither into
+the fire,” so that he remained to take charge of the menage.
+His wife led the way up a little winding path, which, after threading
+some thickets of sweetbrier and honeysuckle, conducted to the back-door
+of a small garden. Jenny undid the latch, and they passed through an
+old-fashioned flower-garden, with its clipped yew hedges and formal
+parterres, to a glass-sashed door, which she opened with a master-key,
+and lighting a candle, which she placed upon a small work-table, asked
+pardon for leaving him there for a few minutes, until she prepared his
+apartment. She did not exceed five minutes in these preparations; but
+when she returned, was startled to find that the stranger had sunk
+forward with his head upon the table, in what she at first apprehended to
+be a swoon. As she advanced to him, however, she could discover by his
+short-drawn sobs that it was a paroxysm of mental agony. She prudently
+drew back until he raised his head, and then showing herself, without
+seeming to have observed his agitation, informed him that his bed was
+prepared. The stranger gazed at her a moment, as if to collect the sense
+of her words. She repeated them; and only bending his head, as an
+indication that he understood her, he entered the apartment, the door of
+which she pointed out to him. It was a small bedchamber, used, as she
+informed him, by Lord Evandale when a guest at Fairy Knowe, connecting,
+on one side, with a little china-cabinet which opened to the garden, and
+on the other, with a saloon, from which it was only separated by a thin
+wainscot partition. Having wished the stranger better health and good
+rest, Jenny descended as speedily as she could to her own mansion.
+
+“Oh, Cuddie!” she exclaimed to her helpmate as she entered, “I doubt
+we’re ruined folk!”
+
+“How can that be? What’s the matter wi’ ye?” returned the imperturbed
+Cuddie, who was one of those persons who do not easily take alarm at
+anything.
+
+“Wha d’ ye think yon gentleman is? Oh that ever ye suld hae asked him to
+light here!” exclaimed Jenny.
+
+“Why, wha the muckle deil d’ye say he is? There’s nae law against
+harbouring and intercommunicating now,” said Cuddie; “sae, Whig or Tory,
+what need we care wha he be?”
+
+“Ay, but it’s ane will ding Lord Evandale’s marriage ajee yet, if it ’s
+no the better looked to,” said Jenny; “it’s Miss Edith’s first joe, your
+ain auld maister, Cuddie.”
+
+“The deil, woman!” exclaimed Cuddie, starting up, “Crow ye that I am
+blind? I wad hae kend Mr. Harry Morton amang a hunder.”
+
+“Ay, but, Cuddie lad,” replied Jenny, “though ye are no blind, ye are no
+sae notice-taking as I am.”
+
+“Weel, what for needs ye cast that up to me just now; or what did ye see
+about the man that was like our Maister Harry?”
+
+“I will tell ye,” said Jenny. “I jaloused his keeping his face frae us,
+and speaking wi’ a madelike voice, sae I e’en tried him wi’ some tales
+o lang syne; and when I spake o’ the brose, ye ken, he didna just
+laugh,--he’s ower grave for that nowadays, but he gae a gledge wi’ his
+ee that I kend he took up what I said. And a’ his distress is about Miss
+Edith’s marriage; and I ne’er saw a man mair taen down wi’ true love in
+my days,--I might say man or woman, only I mind how ill Miss Edith was
+when she first gat word that him and you (ye muckle graceless loon) were
+coming against Tillietudlem wi’ the rebels.--But what’s the matter wi’
+the man now?”
+
+“What’s the matter wi’ me indeed!” said Cuddie, who was again hastily
+putting on some of the garments he had stripped himself of; “am I no gaun
+up this instant to see my maister?”
+
+“Atweel, Cuddie, ye are gaun nae sic gate,” said Jenny, coolly and
+resolutely.
+
+“The deil’s in the wife!” said Cuddie. “D ’ye think I am to be John
+Tamson’s man, and maistered by women a’ the days o’ my life?”
+
+“And whase man wad ye be? And wha wad ye hae to maister ye but me,
+Cuddie, lad?” answered Jenny. “I’ll gar ye comprehend in the making of a
+hay-band. Naebody kens that this young gentleman is living but oursells;
+and frae that he keeps himsell up sae close, I am judging that he’s
+purposing, if he fand Miss Edith either married, or just gaun to be
+married, he wad just slide awa easy, and gie them nae mair trouble. But
+if Miss Edith kend that he was living, and if she were standing before
+the very minister wi’ Lord Evandale when it was tauld to her, I’se
+warrant she wad say No when she suld say Yes.”
+
+“Weel,” replied Cuddie, “and what’s my business wi’ that? If Miss Edith
+likes her auld joe better than her new ane, what for suld she no be free
+to change her mind like other folk? Ye ken, Jenny, Halliday aye threeps
+he had a promise frae yoursell.”
+
+“Halliday’s a liar, and ye’re naething but a gomeril to hearken till him,
+Cuddie. And then for this leddy’s choice, lack-a-day! ye may be sure a’
+the gowd Mr. Morton has is on the outside o’ his coat; and how can he
+keep Leddy Margaret and the young leddy?”
+
+“Isna there Milnwood?” said Cuddie. “Nae doubt the auld laird left his
+housekeeper the liferent, as he heard nought o’ his nephew; but it’s but
+speaking the auld wife fair, and they may a’ live brawly thegither, Leddy
+Margaret and a’.”
+
+“Rout tout, lad,” replied Jenny; “ye ken them little to think leddies o’
+their rank wad set up house wi’ auld Ailie Wilson, when they’re maist
+ower proud to take favours frae Lord Evandale himsell. Na, na, they maun
+follow the camp, if she tak Morton.”
+
+“That wad sort ill wi’ the auld leddy, to be sure,” said Cuddie; “she wad
+hardly win ower a lang day in the baggage-wain.”
+
+“Then sic a flyting as there wad be between them, a’ about Whig and
+Tory,” continued Jenny.
+
+“To be sure,” said Cuddie, “the auld leddy ’s unto kittle in thae
+points.”
+
+“And then, Cuddie,” continued his helpmate, who had reserved her
+strongest argument to the last, “if this marriage wi’ Lord Evandale is
+broken off, what comes o’ our ain bit free house, and the kale-yard, and
+the cow’s grass? I trow that baith us and thae bonny bairns will be
+turned on the wide warld!”
+
+Here Jenny began to whimper; Cuddie writhed himself this way and that
+way, the very picture of indecision. At length he broke out, “Weel,
+woman, canna ye tell us what we suld do, without a’ this din about it?”
+
+“Just do naething at a’,” said Jenny. “Never seem to ken onything about
+this gentleman, and for your life say a word that he suld hae been here,
+or up at the house! An I had kend, I wad hae gien him my ain bed, and
+sleepit in the byre or he had gane up by; but it canna be helpit now. The
+neist thing’s to get him cannily awa the morn, and I judge he’ll be in
+nae hurry to come back again.”
+
+“My puir maister!” said Cuddie; “and maun I no speak to him, then?”
+
+“For your life, no,” said Jenny. “Ye’re no obliged to ken him; and I
+wadna hae tauld ye, only I feared ye wad ken him in the morning.”
+
+“Aweel,” said Cuddie, sighing heavily, “I ’se awa to pleugh the outfield
+then; for if I am no to speak to him, I wad rather be out o’ the gate.”
+
+“Very right, my dear hinny,” replied Jenny. “Naebody has better sense than
+you when ye crack a bit wi’ me ower your affairs; but ye suld ne’er do
+onything aff hand out o’ your ain head.”
+
+“Ane wad think it’s true,” quoth Cuddie; “for I hae aye had some carline
+or quean or another to gar me gang their gate instead o’ my ain. There
+was first my mither,” he continued, as he undressed and tumbled himself
+into bed; “then there was Leddy Margaret didna let me ca’ my soul my ain;
+then my mither and her quarrelled, and pu’ed me twa ways at anes, as if
+ilk ane had an end o’ me, like Punch and the Deevil rugging about the
+Baker at the fair; and now I hae gotten a wife,” he murmured in
+continuation, as he stowed the blankets around his person, “and she’s
+like to tak the guiding o’ me a’ thegither.”
+
+“And amna I the best guide ye ever had in a’ your life?” said Jenny, as
+she closed the conversation by assuming her place beside her husband and
+extinguishing the candle.
+
+Leaving this couple to their repose, we have next to inform the reader
+that, early on the next morning, two ladies on horseback, attended by
+their servants, arrived at the house of Fairy Knowe, whom, to Jenny’s
+utter confusion, she instantly recognised as Miss Bellenden and Lady
+Emily Hamilton, a sister of Lord Evandale.
+
+“Had I no better gang to the house to put things to rights?” said Jenny,
+confounded with this unexpected apparition.
+
+“We want nothing but the pass-key,” said Miss Bellenden; “Gudyill will
+open the windows of the little parlour.”
+
+“The little parlour’s locked, and the lock’s, spoiled,” answered Jenny,
+who recollected the local spmpathy between that apartment and the
+bedchamber of her guest.
+
+“In the red parlour, then,” said Miss Bellenden, and rode up to the front
+of the house, but by an approach different from that through which Morton
+had been conducted.
+
+“All will be out,” thought Jenny, “unless I can get him smuggled out of
+the house the back way.”
+
+So saying, she sped up the bank in great tribulation and uncertainty.
+
+“I had better hae said at ante there was a stranger there,” was her next
+natural reflection. “But then they wad hae been for asking him to
+breakfast. Oh, safe us! what will I do?--And there’s Gudyill walking in
+the garden too!” she exclaimed internally on approaching the wicket; “and
+I daurna gang in the back way till he’s aff the coast. Oh, sirs! what
+will become of us?”
+
+In this state of perplexity she approached the cidevant butler, with the
+purpose of decoying him out of the garden. But John Gudyill’s temper was
+not improved by his decline in rank and increase in years. Like many
+peevish people, too, he seemed to have an intuitive perception as to what
+was most likely to teaze those whom he conversed with; and, on the
+present occasion, all Jenny’s efforts to remove him from the garden
+served only to root him in it as fast as if he had been one of the
+shrubs.
+
+Unluckily, also, he had commenced florist during his residence at Fairy
+Knowe; and, leaving all other things to the charge of Lady Emily’s
+servant, his first care was dedicated to the flowers, which he had taken
+under his special protection, and which he propped, dug, and watered,
+prosing all the while upon their respective merits to poor Jenny, who
+stood by him trembling and almost crying with anxiety, fear, and
+impatience.
+
+Fate seemed determined to win a match against Jenny this unfortunate
+morning. As soon as the ladies entered the house, they observed that the
+door of the little parlour--the very apartment out of which she was
+desirous of excluding them on account of its contiguity to the room in
+which Morton slept--was not only unlocked, but absolutely ajar. Miss
+Bellenden was too much engaged with her own immediate subjects of
+reflection to take much notice of the circumstance, but, desiring the
+servant to open the window-shutters, walked into the room along with her
+friend.
+
+“He is not yet come,” she said. “What can your brother possibly mean? Why
+express so anxious a wish that we should meet him here? And why not come
+to Castle Dinnan, as he proposed? I own, my dear Emily, that, even
+engaged as we are to each other, and with the sanction of your presence,
+I do not feel that I have done quite right in indulging him.”
+
+“Evandale was never capricious,” answered his sister; “I am sure he will
+satisfy us with his reasons, and if he does not, I will help you to scold
+him.”
+
+“What I chiefly fear,” said Edith, “is his having engaged in some of the
+plots of this fluctuating and unhappy time. I know his heart is with that
+dreadful Claverhouse and his army, and I believe he would have joined
+them ere now but for my uncle’s death, which gave him so much additional
+trouble on our account. How singular that one so rational and so deeply
+sensible of the errors of the exiled family should be ready to risk all
+for their restoration!”
+
+“What can I say?” answered Lady Emily,--“it is a point of honour with
+Evandale. Our family have always been loyal; he served long in the
+Guards; the Viscount of Dundee was his commander and his friend for
+years; he is looked on with an evil eye by many of his own relations, who
+set down his inactivity to the score of want of spirit. You must be
+aware, my dear Edith, how often family connections and early
+predilections influence our actions more than abstract arguments. But I
+trust Evandale will continue quiet,--though, to tell you truth, I believe
+you are the only one who can keep him so.”
+
+“And how is it in my power?” said Miss Bellenden.
+
+“You can furnish him with the Scriptural apology for not going forth with
+the host,--‘he has married a wife, and therefore cannot come.’”
+
+“I have promised,” said Edith, in a faint voice; “but I trust I shall not
+be urged on the score of time.”
+
+“Nay,” said Lady Emily, “I will leave Evandale (and here he comes) to
+plead his own cause.”
+
+“Stay, stay, for God’s sake!” said Edith, endeavouring to detain her.
+
+“Not I, not I,” said the young lady, making her escape; “the third person
+makes a silly figure on such occasions. When you want me for breakfast, I
+will be found in the willow-walk by the river.”
+
+As she tripped out of the room, Lord Evandale entered. “Good-morrow,
+Brother, and good-by till breakfast-time,” said the lively young lady;
+“I trust you will give Miss Bellenden some good reasons for disturbing
+her rest so early in the morning.”
+
+And so saying, she left them together, without waiting a reply.
+
+“And now, my lord,” said Edith, “may I desire to know the meaning of your
+singular request to meet you here at so early an hour?”
+
+She was about to add that she hardly felt herself excusable in having
+complied with it; but upon looking at the person whom she addressed, she
+was struck dumb by the singular and agitated expression of his
+countenance, and interrupted herself to exclaim, “For God’s sake, what is
+the matter?”
+
+“His Majesty’s faithful subjects have gained a great and most decisive
+victory near Blair of Athole; but, alas! my gallant friend Lord Dundee--”
+
+“Has fallen?” said Edith, anticipating the rest of his tidings.
+
+“True, most true: he has fallen in the arms of victory, and not a man
+remains of talents and influence sufficient to fill up his loss in King
+James’s service. This, Edith, is no time for temporizing with our duty. I
+have given directions to raise my followers, and I must take leave of you
+this evening.”
+
+“Do not think of it, my lord,” answered Edith; “your life is--essential
+to your friends,--do not throw it away in an adventure so rash. What can
+your single arm, and the few tenants or servants who might follow you, do
+against the force of almost all Scotland, the Highland clans only
+excepted?”
+
+“Listen to me, Edith,” said Lord Evandale. “I am not so rash as you may
+suppose me, nor are my present motives of such light importance as to
+affect only those personally dependent on myself. The Life Guards, with
+whom I served so long, although new-modelled and new-officered by the
+Prince of Orange, retain a predilection for the cause of their rightful
+master; and “--and here he whispered as if he feared even the walls of
+the apartment had ears--“when my foot is known to be in the stirrup, two
+regiments of cavalry have sworn to renounce the usurper’s service, and
+fight under my orders. They delayed only till Dundee should descend into
+the Lowlands; but since he is no more, which of his successors dare take
+that decisive step, unless encouraged by the troops declaring themselves!
+Meantime, the zeal of the soldiers will die away. I must bring them to a
+decision while their hearts are glowing with the victory their old leader
+has obtained, and burning to avenge his untimely death.”
+
+“And will you, on the faith of such men as you know these soldiers to
+be,” said Edith, “take a part of such dreadful moment?”
+
+“I will,” said Lord Evandale,--“I must; my honour and loyalty are both
+pledged for it.”
+
+“And all for the sake,” continued Miss Bellenden, “of a prince whose
+measures, while he was on the throne, no one could condemn more than Lord
+Evandale?”
+
+“Most true,” replied Lord Evandale; “and as I resented, even during the
+plenitude of his power, his innovations on Church and State, like a
+freeborn subject, I am determined I will assert his real rights, when he
+is in adversity, like a loyal one. Let courtiers and sycophants flatter
+power and desert misfortune; I will neither do the one nor the other.”
+
+“And if you are determined to act what my feeble judgment must still term
+rashly, why give yourself the pain of this untimely meeting?”
+
+“Were it not enough to answer,” said Lord Evandale, “that, ere rushing on
+battle, I wished to bid adieu to my betrothed bride? Surely it is judging
+coldly of my feelings, and showing too plainly the indifference of your
+own, to question my motive for a request so natural.”
+
+“But why in this place, my lord,” said Edith; “and why with such peculiar
+circumstances of mystery?”
+
+“Because,” he replied, putting a letter into her hand, “I have yet
+another request, which I dare hardly proffer, even when prefaced by these
+credentials.”
+
+In haste and terror, Edith glanced over the letter, which was from her
+grandmother.
+
+     “My dearest childe,” such was its tenor in style and spelling, “I
+     never more deeply regretted the reumatizm, which disqualified me
+     from riding on horseback, than at this present writing, when I would
+     most have wished to be where this paper will soon be, that is at
+     Fairy Knowe, with my poor dear Willie’s only child. But it is the
+     will of God I should not be with her, which I conclude to be the
+     case, as much for the pain I now suffer, as because it hath now not
+     given way either to cammomile poultices or to decoxion of wild
+     mustard, wherewith I have often relieved others. Therefore, I must
+     tell you, by writing instead of word of mouth, that, as my young
+     Lord Evandale is called to the present campaign, both by his honour
+     and his duty, he hath earnestly solicited me that the bonds of holy
+     matrimony be knitted before his departure to the wars between you
+     and him, in implement of the indenture formerly entered into for
+     that effeck, whereuntill, as I see no raisonable objexion, so I
+     trust that you, who have been always a good and obedient childe,
+     will not devize any which has less than raison. It is trew that the
+     contrax of our house have heretofore been celebrated in a manner
+     more befitting our Rank, and not in private, and with few witnesses,
+     as a thing done in a corner. But it has been Heaven’s own free will,
+     as well as those of the kingdom where we live, to take away from us
+     our estate, and from the King his throne. Yet I trust He will yet
+     restore the rightful heir to the throne, and turn his heart to the
+     true Protestant Episcopal faith, which I have the better right to
+     expect to see even with my old eyes, as I have beheld the royal
+     family when they were struggling as sorely with masterful usurpers
+     and rebels as they are now; that is to say, when his most sacred
+     Majesty, Charles the Second of happy memory, honoured our poor house
+     of Tillietudlem by taking his _disjune_ therein,” etc., etc., etc.
+
+We will not abuse the reader’s patience by quoting more of Lady
+Margaret’s prolix epistle. Suffice it to say that it closed by laying her
+commands on her grandchild to consent to the solemnization of her
+marriage without loss of time.
+
+“I never thought till this instant,” said Edith, dropping the letter from
+her hand, “that Lord Evandale would have acted ungenerously.”
+
+“Ungenerously, Edith!” replied her lover. “And how can you apply such a
+term to my desire to call you mine, ere I part from you, perhaps for
+ever?”
+
+“Lord Evandale ought to have remembered,” said Edith, “that when his
+perseverance, and, I must add, a due sense of his merit and of the
+obligations we owed him, wrung from me a slow consent that I would one
+day comply with his wishes, I made it my condition that I should not be
+pressed to a hasty accomplishment of my promise; and now he avails
+himself of his interest with my only remaining relative to hurry me with
+precipitate and even indelicate importunity. There is more selfishness
+than generosity, my lord, in such eager and urgent solicitation.”
+
+Lord Evandale, evidently much hurt, took two or three turns through the
+apartment ere he replied to this accusation; at length he spoke: “I
+should have escaped this painful charge, durst I at once have mentioned
+to Miss Bellendon my principal reason for urging this request. It is one
+which she will probably despise on her own account, but which ought to
+weigh with her for the sake of Lady Margaret. My death in battle must
+give my whole estate to my heirs of entail; my forfeiture as a traitor,
+by the usurping Government, may vest it in the Prince of Orange or some
+Dutch favourite. In either case, my venerable friend and betrothed bride
+must remain unprotected and in poverty. Vested with the rights and
+provisions of Lady Evandale, Edith will find, in the power of supporting
+her aged parent, some consolation for having condescended to share the
+titles and fortunes of one who does not pretend to be worthy of her.”
+
+Edith was struck dumb by an argument which she had not expected, and was
+compelled to acknowledge that Lord Evandale’s suit was urged with
+delicacy as well as with consideration.
+
+“And yet,” she said, “such is the waywardness with which my heart reverts
+to former times that I cannot,” she burst into tears, “suppress a degree
+of ominous reluctance at fulfilling my engagement upon such a brief
+summons.”
+
+“We have already fully considered this painful subject,” said Lord
+Evandale; “and I hoped, my dear Edith, your own inquiries, as well as
+mine, had fully convinced you that these regrets were fruitless.”
+
+“Fruitless indeed!” said Edith, with a deep sigh, which, as if by an
+unexpected echo, was repeated from the adjoining apartment. Miss
+Bellenden started at the sound, and scarcely composed herself upon Lord
+Evandale’s assurances that she had heard but the echo of her own
+respiration.
+
+“It sounded strangely distinct,” she said, “and almost ominous; but my
+feelings are so harassed that the slightest trifle agitates them.”
+
+Lord Evandale eagerly attempted to soothe her alarm, and reconcile her to
+a measure which, however hasty, appeared to him the only means by which
+he could secure her independence. He urged his claim in virtue of the
+contract, her grandmother’s wish and command, the propriety of insuring
+her comfort and independence, and touched lightly on his own long
+attachment, which he had evinced by so many and such various services.
+These Edith felt the more, the less they were insisted upon; and at
+length, as she had nothing to oppose to his ardour, excepting a causeless
+reluctance which she herself was ashamed to oppose against so much
+generosity, she was compelled to rest upon the impossibility of having
+the ceremony performed upon such hasty notice, at such a time and place.
+But for all this Lord Evandale was prepared, and he explained, with
+joyful alacrity, that the former chaplain of his regiment was in
+attendance at the Lodge with a faithful domestic, once a non-commissioned
+officer in the same corps; that his sister was also possessed of the
+secret; and that Headrigg and his wife might be added to the list of
+witnesses, if agreeable to Miss Bellenden. As to the place, he had chosen
+it on very purpose. The marriage was to remain a secret, since Lord
+Evandale was to depart in disguise very soon after it was solemnized,--a
+circumstance which, had their union been public, must have drawn upon him
+the attention of the Government, as being altogether unaccountable,
+unless from his being engaged in some dangerous design. Having hastily
+urged these motives and explained his arrangements, he ran, without
+waiting for an answer, to summon his sister to attend his bride, while he
+went in search of the other persons whose presence was necessary.
+When Lady Emily arrived, she found her friend in an agony of tears, of
+which she was at some loss to comprehend the reason, being one of those
+damsels who think there is nothing either wonderful or terrible in
+matrimony, and joining with most who knew him in thinking that it could
+not be rendered peculiarly alarming by Lord Evandale being the
+bridegroom. Influenced by these feelings, she exhausted in succession all
+the usual arguments for courage, and all the expressions of sympathy and
+condolence ordinarily employed on such occasions. But when Lady Emily
+beheld her future sister-in-law deaf to all those ordinary topics of
+consolation; when she beheld tears follow fast and without intermission
+down cheeks as pale as marble; when she felt that the hand which she
+pressed in order to enforce her arguments turned cold within her grasp,
+and lay, like that of a corpse, insensible and unresponsive to her
+caresses, her feelings of sympathy gave way to those of hurt pride and
+pettish displeasure.
+
+“I must own,” she said, “that I am something at a loss to understand all
+this, Miss Bellenden. Months have passed since you agreed to marry my
+brother, and you have postponed the fulfilment of your engagement from
+one period to another, as if you had to avoid some dishonourable or
+highly disagreeable connection. I think I can answer for Lord Evandale
+that he will seek no woman’s hand against her inclination; and, though
+his sister, I may boldly say that he does not need to urge any lady
+further than her inclinations carry her. You will forgive me, Miss
+Bellenden; but your present distress augurs ill for my brother’s future
+happiness, and I must needs say that he does not merit all these
+expressions of dislike and dolour, and that they seem an odd return for
+an attachment which he has manifested so long, and in so many ways.”
+
+“You are right, Lady Emily,” said Edith, drying her eyes and endeavouring
+to resume her natural manner, though still betrayed by her faltering
+voice and the paleness of her cheeks,--“you are quite right; Lord
+Evandale merits such usage from no one, least of all from her whom he has
+honoured with his regard. But if I have given way, for the last time, to
+a sudden and irresistible burst of feeling, it is my consolation, Lady
+Emily, that your brother knows the cause, that I have hid nothing from
+him, and that he at least is not apprehensive of finding in Edith
+Bellenden a wife undeserving of his affection. But still you are right,
+and I merit your censure for indulging for a moment fruitless regret and
+painful remembrances. It shall be so no longer; my lot is cast with
+Evandale, and with him I am resolved to bear it. Nothing shall in future
+occur to excite his complaints or the resentment of his relations; no
+idle recollections of other days shall intervene to prevent the zealous
+and affectionate discharge of my duty; no vain illusions recall the
+memory of other days--”
+
+As she spoke these words, she slowly raised her eyes, which had before
+been hidden by her hand, to the latticed window of her apartment, which
+was partly open, uttered a dismal shriek, and fainted. Lady Emily turned
+her eyes in the same direction, but saw only the shadow of a man, which
+seemed to disappear from the window, and, terrified more by the state of
+Edith than by the apparition she had herself witnessed, she uttered
+shriek upon shriek for assistance. Her brother soon arrived, with the
+chaplain and Jenny Dennison; but strong and vigorous remedies were
+necessary ere they could recall Miss Bellenden to sense and motion. Even
+then her language was wild and incoherent.
+
+
+[Illustration: Uttered A Dismal Shriek, And Fainted--224]
+
+
+“Press me no farther,” she said to Lord Evandale,--“it cannot be; Heaven
+and earth, the living and the dead, have leagued themselves against this
+ill-omened union. Take all I can give,--my sisterly regard, my devoted
+friendship. I will love you as a sister and serve you as a bondswoman,
+but never speak to me more of marriage.”
+
+The astonishment of Lord Evandale may easily be conceived.
+“Emily,” he said to his sister, “this is your doing. I was accursed when
+I thought of bringing you here; some of your confounded folly has driven
+her mad!”
+
+“On my word, Brother,” answered Lady Emily, “you’re sufficient to drive
+all the women in Scotland mad. Because your mistress seems much disposed
+to jilt you, you quarrel with your sister, who has been arguing in your
+cause, and had brought her to a quiet hearing, when, all of a sudden, a
+man looked in at a window, whom her crazed sensibility mistook either for
+you or some one else, and has treated us gratis with an excellent tragic
+scene.”
+
+“What man?  What window?” said Lord Evandale, in impatient displeasure.
+“Miss Bellenden is incapable of trifling with me; and yet what else could
+have--”
+
+“Hush! hush!” said Jenny, whose interest lay particularly in shifting
+further inquiry; “for Heaven’s sake, my lord, speak low, for my lady
+begins to recover.”
+
+Edith was no sooner somewhat restored to herself than she begged, in a
+feeble voice, to be left alone with Lord Evandale. All retreated,--Jenny
+with her usual air of officious simplicity, Lady Emily and the chaplain
+with that of awakened curiosity. No sooner had they left the apartment
+than Edith beckoned Lord Evandale to sit beside her on the couch; her
+next motion was to take his hand, in spite of his surprised resistance,
+to her lips; her last was to sink from her seat and to clasp his knees.
+“Forgive me, my lord!” she exclaimed, “forgive me! I must deal most
+untruly by you, and break a solemn engagement. You have my friendship, my
+highest regard, my most sincere gratitude; you have more,--you have my
+word and my faith; but--oh, forgive me, for the fault is not mine--you
+have not my love, and I cannot marry you without a sin!”
+
+“You dream, my dearest Edith!” said Evandale, perplexed in the utmost
+degree, “you let your imagination beguile you; this is but some delusion
+of an over-sensitive mind. The person whom you preferred to me has been
+long in a better world, where your unavailing regret cannot follow him,
+or, if it could, would only diminish his happiness.”
+
+“You are mistaken, Lord Evandale,” said Edith, solemnly; “I am not a
+sleep-walker or a madwoman. No, I could not have believed from any one
+what I have seen. But, having seen him, I must believe mine own eyes.”
+
+“Seen him,--seen whom?” asked Lord Evandale, in great anxiety.
+
+“Henry Morton,” replied Edith, uttering these two words as if they were
+her last, and very nearly fainting when she had done so.
+
+“Miss Bellenden,” said Lord Evandale, “you treat me like a fool or a
+child. If you repent your engagement to me,” he continued, indignantly,
+“I am not a man to enforce it against your inclination; but deal with me
+as a man, and forbear this trifling.”
+
+He was about to go on, when he perceived, from her quivering eye and
+pallid cheek, that nothing less than imposture was intended, and that by
+whatever means her imagination had been so impressed, it was really
+disturbed by unaffected awe and terror. He changed his tone, and exerted
+all his eloquence in endeavouring to soothe and extract from her the
+secret cause of such terror.
+
+“I saw him!” she repeated,--“I saw Henry Morton stand at that window, and
+look into the apartment at the moment I was on the point of abjuring him
+for ever. His face was darker, thinner, and paler than it was wont to be;
+his dress was a horseman’s cloak, and hat looped down over his face; his
+expression was like that he wore on that dreadful morning when he was
+examined by Claverhouse at Tillietudlem. Ask your sister, ask Lady Emily,
+if she did not see him as well as I. I know what has called him up,--he
+came to upbraid me, that, while my heart was with him in the deep and
+dead sea, I was about to give my hand to another. My lord, it is ended
+between you and me; be the consequences what they will, she cannot marry
+whose union disturbs the repose of the dead.”
+
+“Good Heaven!” said Evandale, as he paced the room, half mad himself with
+surprise and vexation, “her fine understanding must be totally
+overthrown, and that by the effort which she has made to comply with my
+ill-timed, though well-meant, request. Without rest and attention her
+health is ruined for ever.”
+
+At this moment the door opened, and Halliday, who had been Lord
+Evandale’s principal personal attendant since they both left the Guards
+on the Revolution, stumbled into the room with a countenance as pale and
+ghastly as terror could paint it.
+
+“What is the matter next, Halliday?” cried his master, starting up. “Any
+discovery of the--”
+
+He had just recollection sufficient to stop short in the midst of the
+dangerous sentence.
+
+“No, sir,” said Halliday, “it is not that, nor anything like that; but I
+have seen a ghost!”
+
+“A ghost, you eternal idiot!” said Lord Evandale, forced altogether out
+of his patience. “Has all mankind sworn to go mad in order to drive me
+so? What ghost, you simpleton?”
+
+“The ghost of Henry Morton, the Whig captain at Bothwell Bridge,” replied
+Halliday. “He passed by me like a fire-flaught when I was in the garden!”
+
+“This is midsummer madness,” said Lord Evandale, “or there is some
+strange villainy afloat. Jenny, attend your lady to her chamber, while I
+endeavour to find a clue to all this.”
+
+But Lord Evandale’s inquiries were in vain. Jenny, who might have given
+(had she chosen) a very satisfactory explanation, had an interest to
+leave the matter in darkness; and interest was a matter which now weighed
+principally with Jenny, since the possession of an active and
+affectionate husband in her own proper right had altogether allayed her
+spirit of coquetry. She had made the best use of the first moments of
+confusion hastily to remove all traces of any one having slept in the
+apartment adjoining to the parlour, and even to erase the mark of
+footsteps beneath the window, through which she conjectured Morton’s face
+had been seen, while attempting, ere he left the garden, to gain one look
+at her whom he had so long loved, and was now on the point of losing for
+ever. That he had passed Halliday in the garden was equally clear; and
+she learned from her elder boy, whom she had employed to have the
+stranger’s horse saddled and ready for his departure, that he had rushed
+into the stable, thrown the child a broad gold piece, and, mounting his
+horse, had ridden with fearful rapidity down towards the Clyde. The
+secret was, therefore, in their own family, and Jenny was resolved it
+should remain so.
+
+“For, to be sure,” she said, “although her lady and Halliday kend Mr.
+Morton by broad daylight, that was nae reason I suld own to kenning him
+in the gloaming and by candlelight, and him keeping his face frae Cuddie
+and me a’ the time.”
+
+So she stood resolutely upon the negative when examined by Lord Evandale.
+As for Halliday, he could only say that as he entered the garden-door,
+the supposed apparition met him, walking swiftly, and with a visage on
+which anger and grief appeared to be contending.
+
+“He knew him well,” he said, “having been repeatedly guard upon him, and
+obliged to write down his marks of stature and visage in case of escape.
+And there were few faces like Mr. Morton’s.” But what should make him
+haunt the country where he was neither hanged nor shot, he, the said
+Halliday, did not pretend to conceive.
+
+Lady Emily confessed she had seen the face of a man at the window, but
+her evidence went no farther. John Gudyill deponed _nil novit in causa_.
+He had left his gardening to get his morning dram just at the time when
+the apparition had taken place. Lady Emily’s servant was waiting orders
+in the kitchen, and there was not another being within a quarter of a
+mile of the house.
+
+Lord Evandale returned perplexed and dissatisfied in the highest degree
+at beholding a plan which he thought necessary not less for the
+protection of Edith in contingent circumstances, than for the assurance
+of his own happiness, and which he had brought so very near perfection,
+thus broken off without any apparent or rational cause. His knowledge of
+Edith’s character set her beyond the suspicion of covering any capricious
+change of determination by a pretended vision. But he would have set the
+apparition down to the influence of an overstrained imagination, agitated
+by the circumstances in which she had so suddenly been placed, had it not
+been for the coinciding testimony of Halliday, who had no reason for
+thinking of Morton more than any other person, and knew nothing of Miss
+Bellenden’s vision when he promulgated his own. On the other hand, it
+seemed in the highest degree improbable that Morton, so long and so
+vainly sought after, and who was, with such good reason, supposed to be
+lost when the “Vryheid” of Rotterdam went down with crew and passengers,
+should be alive and lurking in this country, where there was no longer
+any reason why he should not openly show himself, since the present
+Government favoured his party in politics. When Lord Evandale reluctantly
+brought himself to communicate these doubts to the chaplain, in order to
+obtain his opinion, he could only obtain a long lecture on demonology, in
+which, after quoting Delrio and Burthoog and De L’Ancre on the subject of
+apparitions, together with sundry civilians and common lawyers on the
+nature of testimony, the learned gentleman expressed his definite and
+determined opinion to be, either that there had been an actual apparition
+of the deceased Henry Morton’s spirit, the possibility of which he was,
+as a divine and a philosopher, neither fully prepared to admit or to
+deny; or else that the said Henry Morton, being still in _rerum natura_,
+had appeared in his proper person that morning; or, finally, that some
+strong _deceptio visus_, or striking similitude of person, had deceived
+the eyes of Miss Bellenden and of Thomas Halliday. Which of these was the
+most probable hypothesis, the doctor declined to pronounce, but expressed
+himself ready to die in the opinion that one or other of them had
+occasioned that morning’s disturbance.
+
+Lord Evandale soon had additional cause for distressful anxiety. Miss
+Bellenden was declared to be dangerously ill.
+
+“I will not leave this place,” he exclaimed, “till she is pronounced to
+be in safety. I neither can nor ought to do so; for whatever may have
+been the immediate occasion of her illness, I gave the first cause for it
+by my unhappy solicitation.”
+
+He established himself, therefore, as a guest in the family, which the
+presence of his sister, as well as of Lady Margaret Bellenden (who, in
+despite of her rheumatism, caused herself to be transported thither when
+she heard of her granddaughter’s illness), rendered a step equally
+natural and delicate. And thus he anxiously awaited until, without injury
+to her health, Edith could sustain a final explanation ere his departure
+on his expedition.
+
+“She shall never,” said the generous young man, “look on her engagement
+with me as the means of fettering her to a union, the idea of which seems
+almost to unhinge her understanding.”
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+               Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shades!
+               Ah, fields beloved in vain!
+               Where once my careless childhood strayed,
+               A stranger yet to pain.
+                       Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College.
+
+It is not by corporal wants and infirmities only that men of the most
+distinguished talents are levelled, during their lifetime, with the
+common mass of mankind. There are periods of mental agitation when the
+firmest of mortals must be ranked with the weakest of his brethren, and
+when, in paying the general tax of humanity, his distresses are even
+aggravated by feeling that he transgresses, in the indulgence of his
+grief, the rules of religion and philosophy by which he endeavours in
+general to regulate his passions and his actions. It was during such a
+paroxysm that the unfortunate Morton left Fairy Knowe. To know that his
+long-loved and still-beloved Edith, whose image had filled his mind for
+so many years, was on the point of marriage to his early rival, who had
+laid claim to her heart by so many services as hardly left her a title to
+refuse his addresses, bitter as the intelligence was, yet came not as an
+unexpected blow.
+
+During his residence abroad he had once written to Edith. It was to bid
+her farewell for ever, and to conjure her to forget him. He had requested
+her not to answer his letter; yet he half hoped, for many a day, that she
+might transgress his injunction. The letter never reached her to whom it
+was addressed, and Morton, ignorant of its miscarriage, could only
+conclude himself laid aside and forgotten, according to his own
+self-denying request. All that he had heard of their mutual relations
+since his return to Scotland prepared him to expect that he could only
+look upon Miss Bellenden as the betrothed bride of Lord Evandale; and
+even if freed from the burden of obligation to the latter, it would still
+have been inconsistent with Morton’s generosity of disposition to disturb
+their arrangements, by attempting the assertion of a claim proscribed by
+absence, never sanctioned by the consent of friends, and barred by a
+thousand circumstances of difficulty. Why then did he seek the cottage
+which their broken fortunes had now rendered the retreat of Lady Margaret
+Bellenden and her granddaughter? He yielded, we are under the necessity
+of acknowledging, to the impulse of an inconsistent wish which many might
+have felt in his situation.
+
+Accident apprised him, while travelling towards his native district, that
+the ladies, near whose mansion he must necessarily pass, were absent; and
+learning that Cuddie and his wife acted as their principal domestics, he
+could not resist pausing at their cottage to learn, if possible, the real
+progress which Lord Evandale had made in the affections of Miss Bellen
+den--alas! no longer his Edith. This rash experiment ended as we have
+related, and he parted from the house of Fairy Knowe, conscious that he
+was still beloved by Edith, yet compelled, by faith and honour, to
+relinquish her for ever. With what feelings he must have listened to the
+dialogue between Lord Evandale and Edith, the greater part of which he
+involuntarily overheard, the reader must conceive, for we dare not
+attempt to describe them. An hundred times he was tempted to burst upon
+their interview, or to exclaim aloud, “Edith, I yet live!” and as often
+the recollection of her plighted troth, and of the debt of gratitude
+which he owed Lord Evandale (to whose influence with Claverhouse he
+justly ascribed his escape from torture and from death), withheld him
+from a rashness which might indeed have involved all in further distress,
+but gave little prospect of forwarding his own happiness. He repressed
+forcibly these selfish emotions, though with an agony which thrilled his
+every nerve.
+
+“No, Edith!” was his internal oath, “never will I add a thorn to thy
+pillow. That which Heaven has ordained, let it be; and let me not add, by
+my selfish sorrows, one atom’s weight to the burden thou hast to bear. I
+was dead to thee when thy resolution was adopted; and never, never shalt
+thou know that Henry Morton still lives!”
+
+As he formed this resolution, diffident of his own power to keep it, and
+seeking that firmness in flight which was every moment shaken by his
+continuing within hearing of Edith’s voice, he hastily rushed from his
+apartment by the little closet and the sashed door which led to the
+garden.
+
+But firmly as he thought his resolution was fixed, he could not leave the
+spot where the last tones of a voice so beloved still vibrated on his
+ear, without endeavouring to avail himself of the opportunity which the
+parlour window afforded to steal one last glance at the lovely speaker.
+It was in this attempt, made while Edith seemed to have her eyes
+unalterably bent upon the ground, that Morton’s presence was detected by
+her raising them suddenly. So soon as her wild scream made this known to
+the unfortunate object of a passion so constant, and which seemed so
+ill-fated, he hurried from the place as if pursued by the furies. He
+passed Halliday in the garden without recognising or even being sensible
+that he had seen him, threw himself on his horse, and, by a sort of
+instinct rather than recollection, took the first by-road in preference
+to the public route to Hamilton.
+
+In all probability this prevented Lord Evandale from learning that he was
+actually in existence; for the news that the Highlanders had obtained a
+decisive victory at Killiecrankie had occasioned an accurate look-out to
+be kept, by order of the Government, on all the passes, for fear of some
+commotion among the Lowland Jacobites. They did not omit to post
+sentinels on Bothwell Bridge; and as these men had not seen any traveller
+pass westward in that direction, and as, besides, their comrades
+stationed in the village of Bothwell were equally positive that none had
+gone eastward, the apparition, in the existence of which Edith and
+Halliday were equally positive, became yet more mysterious in the
+judgment of Lord Evandale, who was finally inclined to settle in the
+belief that the heated and disturbed imagination of Edith had summoned up
+the phantom she stated herself to have seen, and that Halliday had, in
+some unaccountable manner, been infected by the same superstition.
+Meanwhile, the by-path which Morton pursued, with all the speed which his
+vigorous horse could exert, brought him in a very few seconds to the
+brink of the Clyde, at a spot marked with the feet of horses, who were
+conducted to it as a watering-place. The steed, urged as he was to the
+gallop, did not pause a single instant, but, throwing himself into the
+river, was soon beyond his depth. The plunge which the animal made as his
+feet quitted the ground, with the feeling that the cold water rose above
+his swordbelt, were the first incidents which recalled Morton, whose
+movements had been hitherto mechanical, to the necessity of taking
+measures for preserving himself and the noble animal which he bestrode. A
+perfect master of all manly exercises, the management of a horse in water
+was as familiar to him as when upon a meadow. He directed the animal’s
+course somewhat down the stream towards a low plain, or holm, which
+seemed to promise an easy egress from the river. In the first and second
+attempt to get on shore, the horse was frustrated by the nature of the
+ground, and nearly fell backwards on his rider. The instinct of
+self-preservation seldom fails, even in the most desperate circumstances,
+to recall the human mind to some degree of equipoise, unless when
+altogether distracted by terror, and Morton was obliged to the danger in
+which he was placed for complete recovery of his self-possession. A third
+attempt, at a spot more carefully and judiciously selected, succeeded
+better than the former, and placed the horse and his rider in safety upon
+the farther and left-hand bank of the Clyde.
+
+“But whither,” said Morton, in the bitterness of his heart, “am I now to
+direct my course? or rather, what does it signify to which point of the
+compass a wretch so forlorn betakes himself? I would to God, could the
+wish be without a sin, that these dark waters had flowed over me, and
+drowned my recollection of that which was, and that which is!”
+ The sense of impatience, which the disturbed state of his feelings had
+occasioned, scarcely had vented itself in these violent expressions, ere
+he was struck with shame at having given way to such a paroxysm. He
+remembered how signally the life which he now held so lightly in the
+bitterness of his disappointment had been preserved through the almost
+incessant perils which had beset him since he entered upon his public
+career.
+
+“I am a fool!” he said, “and worse than a fool, to set light by that
+existence which Heaven has so often preserved in the most marvellous
+manner. Something there yet remains for me in this world, were it only to
+bear my sorrows like a man, and to aid those who need my assistance. What
+have I seen, what have I heard, but the very conclusion of that which I
+knew was to happen? They”--he durst not utter their names even in
+soliloquy--“they are embarrassed and in difficulties. She is stripped of
+her inheritance, and he seems rushing on some dangerous career, with
+which, but for the low voice in which he spoke, I might have become
+acquainted. Are there no means to aid or to warn them?”
+
+As he pondered upon this topic, forcibly withdrawing his mind from his
+own disappointment, and compelling his attention to the affairs of Edith
+and her betrothed husband, the letter of Burley, long forgotten, suddenly
+rushed on his memory, like a ray of light darting through a mist.
+“Their ruin must have been his work,” was his internal conclusion. “If it
+can be repaired, it must be through his means, or by information obtained
+from him. I will search him out. Stern, crafty, and enthusiastic as he
+is, my plain and downright rectitude of purpose has more than once
+prevailed with him. I will seek him out, at least; and who knows what
+influence the information I may acquire from him may have on the fortunes
+of those whom I shall never see more, and who will probably never learn
+that I am now suppressing my own grief, to add, if possible, to their
+happiness.”
+
+Animated by these hopes, though the foundation was but slight, he sought
+the nearest way to the high-road; and as all the tracks through the
+valley were known to him since he hunted through them in youth, he had no
+other difficulty than that of surmounting one or two enclosures, ere he
+found himself on the road to the small burgh where the feast of the
+popinjay had been celebrated. He journeyed in a state of mind sad indeed
+and dejected, yet relieved from its earlier and more intolerable state of
+anguish; for virtuous resolution and manly disinterestedness seldom fail
+to restore tranquillity even where they cannot create happiness. He
+turned his thoughts with strong effort upon the means of discovering
+Burley, and the chance there was of extracting from him any knowledge
+which he might possess favourable to her in whose cause he interested
+himself; and at length formed the resolution of guiding himself by the
+circumstances in which he might discover the object of his quest,
+trusting that, from Cuddie’s account of a schism betwixt Burley and his
+brethren of the Presbyterian persuasion, he might find him less
+rancorously disposed against Miss Bellenden, and inclined to exert the
+power which he asserted himself to possess over her fortunes, more
+favourably than heretofore.
+
+Noontide had passed away when our traveller found himself in the
+neighbourhood of his deceased uncle’s habitation of Milnwood. It rose
+among glades and groves that were chequered with a thousand early
+recollections of joy and sorrow, and made upon Morton that mournful
+impression, soft and affecting, yet, withal, soothing, which the
+sensitive mind usually receives from a return to the haunts of childhood
+and early youth, after having experienced the vicissitudes and tempests
+of public life. A strong desire came upon him to visit the house itself.
+“Old Alison,” he thought, “will not know me, more than the honest couple
+whom I saw yesterday. I may indulge my curiosity, and proceed on my
+journey, without her having any knowledge of my existence. I think they
+said my uncle had bequeathed to her my family mansion,--well, be it so. I
+have enough to sorrow for, to enable me to dispense with lamenting such a
+disappointment as that; and yet methinks he has chosen an odd successor
+in my grumbling old dame, to a line of respectable, if not distinguished,
+ancestry. Let it be as it may, I will visit the old mansion at least once
+more.”
+
+The house of Milnwood, even in its best days, had nothing cheerful about
+it; but its gloom appeared to be doubled under the auspices of the old
+housekeeper. Everything, indeed, was in repair; there were no slates
+deficient upon the steep grey roof, and no panes broken in the narrow
+windows. But the grass in the court-yard looked as if the foot of man had
+not been there for years; the doors were carefully locked, and that which
+admitted to the hall seemed to have been shut for a length of time, since
+the spiders had fairly drawn their webs over the door-way and the
+staples. Living sight or sound there was none, until, after much
+knocking, Morton heard the little window, through which it was
+usual to reconnoitre visitors, open with much caution. The face of
+Alison, puckered with some score of wrinkles in addition to those with
+which it was furrowed when Morton left Scotland, now presented itself,
+enveloped in a _toy_, from under the protection of which some of her grey
+tresses had escaped in a manner more picturesque than beautiful, while
+her shrill, tremulous voice demanded the cause of the knocking.
+“I wish to speak an instant with one Alison Wilson, who resides here,”
+ said Henry.
+
+“She’s no at hame the day,” answered Mrs. Wilson, _in propria persona_,
+the state of whose headdress, perhaps, inspired her with this direct mode
+of denying herself; “and ye are but a mislear’d person to speer for her
+in sic a manner. Ye might hae had an M under your belt for Mistress
+Wilson of Milnwood.”
+
+“I beg pardon,” said Morton, internally smiling at finding in old Ailie
+the same jealousy of disrespect which she used to exhibit upon former
+occasions,--“I beg pardon; I am but a stranger in this country, and have
+been so long abroad that I have almost forgotten my own language.”
+ “Did ye come frae foreign parts?” said Ailie; “then maybe ye may hae
+heard of a young gentleman of this country that they ca’ Henry Morton?”
+
+“I have heard,” said Morton, “of such a name in Germany.”
+
+“Then bide a wee bit where ye are, friend; or stay,--gang round by the
+back o’ the house, and ye’ll find a laigh door; it’s on the latch, for
+it’s never barred till sunset. Ye ’ll open ’t,--and tak care ye dinna fa’
+ower the tub, for the entry’s dark,--and then ye’ll turn to the right,
+and then ye’ll hand straught forward, and then ye’ll turn to the right
+again, and ye ’ll tak heed o’ the cellarstairs, and then ye ’ll be at the
+door o’ the little kitchen,--it’s a’ the kitchen that’s at Milnwood
+now,--and I’ll come down t’ye, and whate’er ye wad say to Mistress
+Wilson ye may very safely tell it to me.”
+
+A stranger might have had some difficulty, notwithstanding the minuteness
+of the directions supplied by Ailie, to pilot himself in safety through
+the dark labyrinth of passages that led from the back-door to the little
+kitchen; but Henry was too well acquainted with the navigation of these
+straits to experience danger, either from the Scylla which lurked on one
+side in shape of a bucking tub, or the Charybdis which yawned on the
+other in the profundity of a winding cellar-stair. His only impediment
+arose from the snarling and vehement barking of a small cocking spaniel,
+once his own property, but which, unlike to the faithful Argus, saw his
+master return from his wanderings without any symptom of recognition.
+
+“The little dogs and all!” said Morton to himself, on being disowned by
+his former favourite. “I am so changed that no breathing creature that I
+have known and loved will now acknowledge me!”
+
+At this moment he had reached the kitchen; and soon after, the tread of
+Alison’s high heels, and the pat of the crutch-handled cane which served
+at once to prop and to guide her footsteps, were heard upon the
+stairs,--an annunciation which continued for some time ere she fairly
+reached the kitchen.
+
+Morton had, therefore, time to survey the slender preparations for
+housekeeping which were now sufficient in the house of his ancestors. The
+fire, though coals are plenty in that neighbourhood, was husbanded with
+the closest attention to economy of fuel, and the small pipkin, in which
+was preparing the dinner of the old woman and her maid-of-all-work, a
+girl of twelve years old, intimated, by its thin and watery vapour, that
+Ailie had not mended her cheer with her improved fortune.
+
+When she entered, the head, which nodded with self-importance; the
+features, in which an irritable peevishness, acquired by habit and
+indulgence, strove with a temper naturally affectionate and good-natured;
+the coif; the apron; the blue-checked gown,--were all those of old Ailie;
+but laced pinners, hastily put on to meet the stranger, with some other
+trifling articles of decoration, marked the difference between Mrs.
+Wilson, life-rentrix of Milnwood, and the housekeeper of the late
+proprietor.
+
+“What were ye pleased to want wi’ Mrs. Wilson, sir? I am Mrs. Wilson,”
+ was her first address; for the five minutes time which she had gained for
+the business of the toilet entitled her, she conceived, to assume the
+full merit of her illustrious name, and shine forth on her guest in
+unchastened splendour. Morton’s sensations, confounded between the past
+and present, fairly confused him so much that he would have had
+difficulty in answering her, even if he had known well what to say. But
+as he had not determined what character he was to adopt while concealing
+that which was properly his own, he had an additional reason for
+remaining silent. Mrs. Wilson, in perplexity, and with some apprehension,
+repeated her question.
+
+“What were ye pleased to want wi’ me, sir? Ye said ye kend Mr. Harry
+Morton?”
+
+“Pardon me, madam,” answered Henry, “it was of one Silas Morton I spoke.”
+ The old woman’s countenance fell.
+
+“It was his father, then, ye kent o’, the brother o’ the late Milnwood?
+Ye canna mind him abroad, I wad think,--he was come hame afore ye were
+born. I thought ye had brought me news of poor Maister Harry.”
+
+“It was from my father I learned to know Colonel Morton,” said Henry; “of
+the son I know little or nothing,--rumour says he died abroad on his
+passage to Holland.”
+
+“That’s ower like to be true,” said the old woman with a sigh, “and mony
+a tear it’s cost my auld een. His uncle, poor gentleman, just sough’d awa
+wi’ it in his mouth. He had been gieing me preceeze directions anent the
+bread and the wine and the brandy at his burial, and how often it was to
+be handed round the company (for, dead or alive, he was a prudent,
+frugal, painstaking man), and then he said, said he, ‘Ailie,’ (he aye
+ca’d me Ailie; we were auld acquaintance), ‘Ailie, take ye care and haud
+the gear weel thegither; for the name of Morton of Milnwood ’s gane out
+like the last sough of an auld sang.’ And sae he fell out o’ ae dwam into
+another, and ne’er spak a word mair, unless it were something we cou’dna
+mak out, about a dipped candle being gude eneugh to see to dee wi’. He
+cou’d ne’er bide to see a moulded ane, and there was ane, by ill luck, on
+the table.”
+
+While Mrs. Wilson was thus detailing the last moments of the old miser,
+Morton was pressingly engaged in diverting the assiduous curiosity of the
+dog, which, recovered from his first surprise, and combining former
+recollections, had, after much snuffing and examination, begun a course
+of capering and jumping upon the stranger which threatened every instant
+to betray him. At length, in the urgency of his impatience, Morton could
+not forbear exclaiming, in a tone of hasty impatience, “Down, Elphin!
+down, sir!”
+
+“Ye ken our dog’s name,” said the old lady, struck with great and sudden
+surprise,--“ye ken our dog’s name, and it’s no a common ane. And the
+creature kens you too,” she continued, in a more agitated and shriller
+tone,--“God guide us! it’s my ain bairn!”
+
+So saying, the poor old woman threw herself around Morton’s neck, cling
+to him, kissed him as if he had been actually her child, and wept for
+joy. There was no parrying the discovery, if he could have had the heart
+to attempt any further disguise. He returned the embrace with the most
+grateful warmth, and answered,--
+
+“I do indeed live, dear Ailie, to thank you for all your kindness, past
+and present, and to rejoice that there is at least one friend to welcome
+me to my native country.”
+
+“Friends!” exclaimed Ailie, “ye’ll hae mony friends,--ye ’ll hae mony
+friends; for ye will hae gear, hinny,--ye will hae gear. Heaven mak ye a
+gude guide o’t! But eh, sirs!” she continued, pushing him back from her
+with her trembling hand and shrivelled arm, and gazing in his face as if
+to read, at more convenient distance, the ravages which sorrow rather
+than time had made on his face,--“Eh, sirs! ye’re sair altered, hinny;
+your face is turned pale, and your een are sunken, and your bonny
+red-and-white cheeks are turned a’ dark and sun-burnt. Oh, weary on the
+wars! mony ’s the comely face they destroy.--And when cam ye here, hinny?
+And where hae ye been? And what hae ye been doing? And what for did ye na
+write to us? And how cam ye to pass yoursell for dead? And what for did
+ye come creepin’ to your ain house as if ye had been an unto body, to gie
+poor auld Ailie sic a start?” she concluded, smiling through her tears.
+It was some time ere Morton could overcome his own emotion so as to give
+the kind old woman the information which we shall communicate to our
+readers in the next chapter.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+               Aumerle that was,
+               But that is gone for being Richard’s friend;
+               And, madam, you must call him Rutland now.
+                                      Richard II.
+
+The scene of explanation was hastily removed from the little kitchen to
+Mrs. Wilson’s own matted room,--the very same which she had occupied as
+housekeeper, and which she continued to retain. “It was,” she said,
+“better secured against sifting winds than the hall, which she had found
+dangerous to her rheumatisms, and it was more fitting for her use than
+the late Milnwood’s apartment, honest man, which gave her sad thoughts;”
+ and as for the great oak parlour, it was never opened but to be aired,
+washed, and dusted, according to the invariable practice of the family,
+unless upon their most solemn festivals. In the matted room, therefore,
+they were settled, surrounded by pickle-pots and conserves of all kinds,
+which the ci-devant housekeeper continued to compound, out of mere habit,
+although neither she herself, nor any one else, ever partook of the
+comfits which she so regularly prepared.
+
+Morton, adapting his narrative to the comprehension of his auditor,
+informed her briefly of the wreck of the vessel and the loss of all
+hands, excepting two or three common seamen who had early secured the
+skiff, and were just putting off from the vessel when he leaped from the
+deck into their boat, and unexpectedly, as well as contrary to their
+inclination, made himself partner of their voyage and of their safety.
+Landed at Flushing, he was fortunate enough to meet with an old officer
+who had been in service with his father. By his advice, he shunned going
+immediately to the Hague, but forwarded his letters to the court of the
+Stadtholder.
+
+“Our prince,” said the veteran, “must as yet keep terms with his
+father-in-law and with your King Charles; and to approach him in the
+character of a Scottish malecontent would render it imprudent for him to
+distinguish you by his favour. Wait, therefore, his orders, without
+forcing yourself on his notice; observe the strictest prudence and
+retirement; assume for the present a different name; shun the company of
+the British exiles; and, depend upon it, you will not repent your
+prudence.”
+
+The old friend of Silas Morton argued justly. After a considerable time
+had elapsed, the Prince of Orange, in a progress through the United
+States, came to the town where Morton, impatient at his situation and the
+incognito which he was obliged to observe, still continued, nevertheless,
+to be a resident. He had an hour of private interview assigned, in which
+the prince expressed himself highly pleased with his intelligence, his
+prudence, and the liberal view which he seemed to take of the factions of
+his native country, their motives and their purposes.
+
+“I would gladly,” said William, “attach you to my own person; but that
+cannot be without giving offence in England. But I will do as much for
+you, as well out of respect for the sentiments you have expressed, as for
+the recommendations you have brought me. Here is a commission in a Swiss
+regiment at present in garrison in a distant province, where you will
+meet few or none of your countrymen. Continue to be Captain Melville, and
+let the name of Morton sleep till better days.”
+
+“Thus began my fortune,” continued Morton; “and my services have, on
+various occasions, been distinguished by his Royal Highness, until the
+moment that brought him to Britain as our political deliverer. His
+commands must excuse my silence to my few friends in Scotland; and I
+wonder not at the report of my death, considering the wreck of the
+vessel, and that I found no occasion to use the letters of exchange with
+which I was furnished by the liberality of some of them,--a circumstance
+which must have confirmed the belief that I had perished.”
+
+“But, dear hinny,” asked Mrs. Wilson, “did ye find nae Scotch body at the
+Prince of Oranger’s court that kend ye? I wad hae thought Morton o’
+Milnwood was kend a’ through the country.”
+
+“I was purposely engaged in distant service,” said Morton, “until a
+period when few, without as deep and kind a motive of interest as yours,
+Ailie, would have known the stripling Morton in Major-General Melville.”
+
+“Malville was your mother’s name,” said Mrs. Wilson; “but Morton sounds
+far bonnier in my auld lugs. And when ye tak up the lairdship, ye maun
+tak the auld name and designation again.”
+
+“I am like to be in no haste to do either the one or the other, Ailie,
+for I have some reasons for the present to conceal my being alive from
+every one but you; and as for the lairdship of Milnwood, it is in as good
+hands.”
+
+“As gude hands, hinny!” re-echoed Ailie; “I’m hopefu’ ye are no meaning
+mine? The rents and the lands are but a sair fash to me. And I’m ower
+failed to tak a helpmate, though Wylie Mactrickit the writer was very
+pressing, and spak very civilly; but I’m ower auld a cat to draw that
+strae before me. He canna whilliwhaw me as he’s dune mony a ane. And then
+I thought aye ye wad come back, and I wad get my pickle meal and my soup
+milk, and keep a’ things right about ye as I used to do in your puir
+uncle’s time, and it wad be just pleasure eneugh for me to see ye thrive
+and guide the gear canny. Ye’ll hae learned that in Holland, I’se
+warrant, for they’re thrifty folk there, as I hear tell.--But ye’ll be
+for keeping rather a mair house than puir auld Milnwood that’s gave; and,
+indeed, I would approve o’ your eating butchermeat maybe as aften as
+three times a-week,--it keeps the wind out o’ the stamack.”
+
+“We will talk of all this another time,” said Morton, surprised at the
+generosity upon a large scale which mingled in Ailie’s thoughts and
+actions with habitual and sordid parsimony, and at the odd contrast
+between her love of saving and indifference to self-acquisition. “You
+must know,” he continued, “that I am in this country only for a few days
+on some special business of importance to the Government, and therefore,
+Ailie, not a word of having seen me. At some other time I will acquaint
+you fully with my motives and intentions.”
+
+“E’en be it sae, my jo,” replied Ailie, “I can keep a secret like my
+neighbours; and weel auld Milnwood kend it, honest man, for he tauld me
+where he keepit his gear, and that’s what maist folk like to hae as
+private as possibly may be.--But come awa wi’ me, hinny, till I show ye
+the oak-parlour how grandly it’s keepit, just as if ye had been expected
+haine every day,--I loot naebody sort it but my ain hands. It was a kind
+o’ divertisement to me, though whiles the tear wan into my ee, and I said
+to mysell, What needs I fash wi’ grates and carpets and cushions and the
+muckle brass candlesticks ony mair? for they’ll ne’er come hame that
+aught it rightfully.”
+
+With these words she hauled him away to this sanctum sanctorum, the
+scrubbing and cleaning whereof was her daily employment, as its high
+state of good order constituted the very pride of her heart. Morton, as
+he followed her into the room, underwent a rebuke for not “dighting his
+shune,” which showed that Ailie had not relinquished her habits of
+authority. On entering the oak-parlour he could not but recollect the
+feelings of solemn awe with which, when a boy, he had been affected at
+his occasional and rare admission to an apartment which he then supposed
+had not its equal save in the halls of princes. It may be readily
+supposed that the worked-worsted chairs, with their short ebony legs and
+long upright backs, had lost much of their influence over his mind; that
+the large brass andirons seemed diminished in splendour; that the green
+worsted tapestry appeared no masterpiece of the Arras loom; and that the
+room looked, on the whole, dark, gloomy, and disconsolate. Yet there were
+two objects, “The counterfeit presentment of two brothers,” which,
+dissimilar as those described by Hamlet, affected his mind with a variety
+of sensations. One full-length portrait represented his father in
+complete armour, with a countenance indicating his masculine and
+determined character; and the other set forth his uncle, in velvet and
+brocade, looking as if he were ashamed of his own finery, though entirely
+indebted for it to the liberality of the painter.
+
+“It was an idle fancy,” Ailie said, “to dress the honest auld man in thae
+expensive fal-lalls that he ne’er wore in his life, instead o’ his douce
+Raploch grey, and his band wi’ the narrow edging.”
+
+In private, Morton could not help being much of her opinion; for anything
+approaching to the dress of a gentleman sate as ill on the ungainly
+person of his relative as an open or generous expression would have done
+on his mean and money-making features. He now extricated himself from
+Ailie to visit some of his haunts in the neighbouring wood, while her own
+hands made an addition to the dinner she was preparing,--an incident no
+otherwise remarkable than as it cost the life of a fowl, which, for any
+event of less importance than the arrival of Henry Morton, might have
+cackled on to a good old age ere Ailie could have been guilty of the
+extravagance of killing and dressing it. The meal was seasoned by talk of
+old times and by the plans which Ailie laid out for futurity, in which
+she assigned her young master all the prudential habits of her old one,
+and planned out the dexterity with which she was to exercise her duty as
+governante. Morton let the old woman enjoy her day-dreams and
+castle-building during moments of such pleasure, and deferred till some
+fitter occasion the communication of his purpose again to return and
+spend his life upon the Continent.
+
+His next care was to lay aside his military dress, which he considered
+likely to render more difficult his researches after Burley. He exchanged
+it--for a grey doublet and cloak, formerly his usual attire at Milnwood,
+and which Mrs. Wilson produced from a chest of walnut-tree, wherein she
+had laid them aside, without forgetting carefully to brush and air them
+from time to time. Morton retained his sword and fire-arms, without which
+few persons travelled in those unsettled times. When he appeared in his
+new attire, Mrs. Wilson was first thankful “that they fitted him sae
+decently, since, though he was nae fatter, yet he looked mair manly than
+when he was taen frae Milnwood.”
+
+Next she enlarged on the advantage of saving old clothes to be what she
+called “beet-masters to the new,” and was far advanced in the history of
+a velvet cloak belonging to the late Milnwood, which had first been
+converted to a velvet doublet, and then into a pair of breeches, and
+appeared each time as good as new, when Morton interrupted her account of
+its transmigration to bid her good-by.
+
+He gave, indeed, a sufficient shock to her feelings, by expressing the
+necessity he was under of proceeding on his journey that evening.
+
+“And where are ye gaun? And what wad ye do that for? And whar wad ye
+sleep but in your ain house, after ye hae been sae mony years frae hame?”
+
+“I feel all the unkindness of it, Ailie, but it must be so; and that was
+the reason that I attempted to conceal myself from you, as I suspected
+you would not let me part from you so easily.”
+
+“But whar are ye gaun, then?” said Ailie, once more. “Saw e’er mortal een
+the like o’ you, just to come ae moment, and flee awa like an arrow out
+of a bow the neist?”
+
+“I must go down,” replied Morton, “to Niel Blane the Piper’s Howff; he
+can give me a bed, I suppose?”
+
+“A bed? I’se warrant can he,” replied Ailie, “and gar ye pay weel for ’t
+into the bargain. Laddie, I daresay ye hae lost your wits in thae foreign
+parts, to gang and gie siller for a supper and a bed, and might hae baith
+for naething, and thanks t’ ye for accepting them.”
+
+“I assure you, Ailie,” said Morton, desirous to silence her
+remonstrances, “that this is a business of great importance, in which I
+may be a great gainer, and cannot possibly be a loser.”
+
+“I dinna see how that can be, if ye begin by gieing maybe the feck o’
+twal shillings Scots for your supper; but young folks are aye
+venturesome, and think to get siller that way. My puir auld master took
+a surer gate, and never parted wi’ it when he had anes gotten ’t.”
+
+Persevering in his desperate resolution, Morton took leave of Ailie, and
+mounted his horse to proceed to the little town, after exacting a solemn
+promise that she would conceal his return until she again saw or heard
+from him.
+
+“I am not very extravagant,” was his natural reflection, as he trotted
+slowly towards the town; “but were Ailie and I to set up house together,
+as she proposes, I think my profusion would break the good old creature’s
+heart before a week were out.”
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+               Where’s the jolly host
+               You told me of? ’T has been my custom ever
+               To parley with mine host.
+                                  Lover’s Progress.
+
+Morton reached the borough town without meeting with any remarkable
+adventure, and alighted at the little inn. It had occurred to him more
+than once, while upon his journey, that his resumption of the dress which
+he had worn while a youth, although favourable to his views in other
+respects, might render it more difficult for him to remain incognito. But
+a few years of campaigns and wandering had so changed his appearance that
+he had great confidence that in the grown man, whose brows exhibited the
+traces of resolution and considerate thought, none would recognise the
+raw and bashful stripling who won the game of the popinjay. The only
+chance was that here and there some Whig, whom he had led to battle,
+might remember the Captain of the Milnwood Marksmen; but the risk, if
+there was any, could not be guarded against.
+
+The Howff seemed full and frequented as if possessed of all its old
+celebrity. The person and demeanour of Niel Blane, more fat and less
+civil than of yore, intimated that he had increased as well in purse as
+in corpulence; for in Scotland a landlord’s complaisance for his guests
+decreases in exact proportion to his rise in the world. His daughter had
+acquired the air of a dexterous barmaid, undisturbed by the circumstances
+of love and war, so apt to perplex her in the exercise of her vocation.
+Both showed Morton the degree of attention which could have been expected
+by a stranger travelling without attendants, at a time when they were
+particularly the badges of distinction. He took upon himself exactly the
+character his appearance presented, went to the stable and saw his horse
+accommodated, then returned to the house, and seating himself in the
+public room (for to request one to himself would, in those days, have
+been thought an overweening degree of conceit), he found himself in the
+very apartment in which he had some years before celebrated his victory
+at the game of the popinjay,--a jocular preferment which led to so many
+serious consequences.
+
+He felt himself, as may well be supposed, a much changed man since that
+festivity; and yet, to look around him, the groups assembled in the Howff
+seemed not dissimilar to those which the same scene had formerly
+presented. Two or three burghers husbanded their “dribbles o’ brandy;”
+ two or three dragoons lounged over their muddy ale, and cursed the
+inactive times that allowed them no better cheer. Their cornet did not,
+indeed, play at backgammon with the curate in his cassock, but he drank
+a little modicum of _aqua mirabilis_ with the grey-cloaked Presbyterian
+minister. The scene was another, and yet the same, differing only in
+persons, but corresponding in general character.
+
+Let the tide of the world wax or wane as it will, Morton thought as he
+looked around him, enough will be found to fill the places which chance
+renders vacant; and in the usual occupations and amusements of life,
+human beings will succeed each other as leaves upon the same tree, with
+the same individual difference and the same general resemblance.
+
+After pausing a few minutes, Morton, whose experience had taught him the
+readiest mode of securing attention, ordered a pint of claret; and as the
+smiling landlord appeared with the pewter measure foaming fresh from the
+tap (for bottling wine was not then in fashion), he asked him to sit down
+and take a share of the good cheer. This invitation was peculiarly
+acceptable to Niel Blane, who, if he did not positively expect it from
+every guest not provided with better company, yet received it from many,
+and was not a whit abashed or surprised at the summons. He sat down,
+along with his guest, in a secluded nook near the chimney; and while he
+received encouragement to drink by far the greater share of the liquor
+before them, he entered at length, as a part of his expected functions,
+upon the news of the country,--the births, deaths, and marriages; the
+change of property; the downfall of old families, and the rise of new.
+But politics, now the fertile source of eloquence, mine host did not care
+to mingle in his theme; and it was only in answer to a question of Morton
+that he replied, with an air of indifference, “Um! ay! we aye hae sodgers
+amang us, mair or less. There’s a wheen German horse down at Glasgow
+yonder; they ca’ their commander Wittybody, or some sic name, though he’s
+as grave and grewsome an auld Dutchman as e’er I saw.”
+
+“Wittenbold, perhaps?” said Morton,--“an old man, with grey hair and
+short black moustaches; speaks seldom?”
+
+“And smokes for ever,” replied Niel Blane. “I see your honour kens the
+man. He may be a very gude man too, for aught I see,--that is,
+considering he is a sodger and a Dutchman; but if he were ten generals,
+and as mony Wittybodies, he has nae skill in the pipes; he gar’d me stop
+in the middle of Torphichen’s Rant,--the best piece o’ music that ever
+bag gae wind to.”
+
+“But these fellows,” said Morton, glancing his eye towards the soldiers
+“that were in the apartment, are not of his corps?”
+
+“Na, na, these are Scotch dragoons,” said mine host,--“our ain auld
+caterpillars; these were Claver’se’s lads a while syne, and wad be again,
+maybe, if he had the lang ten in his hand.”
+
+“Is there not a report of his death?” inquired Morton.
+
+“Troth is there,” said the landlord; “your honour is right,--there is sic
+a fleeing rumour; but, in my puir opinion, it’s lang or the deil die. I
+wad hae the folks here look to themsells. If he makes an outbreak, he’ll
+be doun frae the Hielands or I could drink this glass,--and whare are
+they then? A’ thae hell-rakers o’ dragoons wad be at his whistle in a
+moment. Nae doubt they’re Willie’s men e’en now, as they were James’s a
+while syne; and reason good,--they fight for their pay; what else hae
+they to fight for? They hae neither lands nor houses, I trow. There’s ae
+gude thing o’ the change, or the Revolution, as they ca’ it,--folks may
+speak out afore thae birkies now, and nae fear o’ being hauled awa to the
+guard-house, or having the thumikins screwed on your finger-ends, just as
+I wad drive the screw through a cork.”
+
+There was a little pause, when Morton, feeling confident in the progress
+he had made in mine host’s familiarity, asked, though with the hesitation
+proper to one who puts a question on the answer to which rests something
+of importance, “Whether Blane knew a woman in that neighbourhood called
+Elizabeth Maclure?”
+
+“Whether I ken Bessie Maclure?” answered the landlord, with a landlord’s
+laugh,--“How can I but ken my ain wife’s (haly be her rest!)--my ain
+wife’s first gudeman’s sister, Bessie Maclure? An honest wife she is, but
+sair she’s been trysted wi’ misfortunes,--the loss o’ twa decent lads o’
+sons, in the time o’ the persecution, as they ca’ it nowadays; and
+doucely and decently she has borne her burden, blaming nane and
+condemning nane. If there’s an honest woman in the world, it’s Bessie
+Maclure. And to lose her twa sons, as I was saying, and to hae dragoons
+clinked down on her for a month bypast,--for, be Whig or Tory uppermost,
+they aye quarter thae loons on victuallers,--to lose, as I was saying--”
+
+“This woman keeps an inn, then?” interrupted Morton.
+
+“A public, in a puir way,” replied Blane, looking round at his own
+superior accommodations,--“a sour browst o’ sma’ ale that she sells to
+folk that are over drouthy wi’ travel to be nice; but naething to ca’ a
+stirring trade or a thriving changehouse.”
+
+“Can you get me a guide there?” said Morton.
+
+“Your honour will rest here a’ the night? Ye’ll hardly get accommodation
+at Bessie’s,” said Niel, whose regard for his deceased wife’s relative by
+no means extended to sending company from his own house to hers.
+
+“There is a friend,” answered Morton, “whom I am to meet with there, and
+I only called here to take a stirrup-cup and inquire the way.”
+
+“Your honour had better,” answerd the landlord, with the perseverance of
+his calling, “send some ane to warn your friend to come on here.”
+
+“I tell you, landlord,” answered Morton, impatiently, “that will not
+serve my purpose; I must go straight to this woman Maclure’s house, and
+I desire you to find me a guide.”
+
+“Aweel, sir, ye’ll choose for yoursell, to be sure,” said Niel Blane,
+somewhat disconcerted; “but deil a guide ye’ll need if ye gae doun the
+water for twa mile or sae, as gin ye were bound for Milnwoodhouse, and
+then tak the first broken disjasked-looking road that makes for the
+hills,--ye’ll ken ’t by a broken ash-tree that stands at the side o’ a
+burn just where the roads meet; and then travel out the path,--ye canna
+miss Widow Maclure’s public, for deil another house or hauld is on the
+road for ten lang Scots miles, and that’s worth twenty English. I am
+sorry your honour would think o’ gaun out o’ my house the night. But my
+wife’s gude-sister is a decent woman, and it’s no lost that a friend
+gets.”
+
+Morton accordingly paid his reckoning and departed. The sunset of the
+summer day placed him at the ash-tree, where the path led up towards the
+moors.
+
+“Here,” he said to himself, “my misfortunes commenced; for just here,
+when Burley and I were about to separate on the first night we ever met,
+he was alarmed by the intelligence that the passes were secured by
+soldiers lying in wait for him. Beneath that very ash sate the old woman
+who apprised him of his danger. How strange that my whole fortunes should
+have become inseparably interwoven with that man’s, without anything more
+on my part than the discharge of an ordinary duty of humanity! Would to
+Heaven it were possible I could find my humble quiet and tranquillity of
+mind upon the spot where I lost them!”
+
+Thus arranging his reflections betwixt speech and thought, he turned his
+horse’s head up the path.
+
+Evening lowered around him as he advanced up the narrow dell which had
+once been a wood, but was now a ravine divested of trees, unless where a
+few, from their inaccessible situation on the edge of precipitous banks,
+or clinging among rocks and huge stones, defied the invasion of men and
+of cattle, like the scattered tribes of a conquered country, driven to
+take refuge in the barren strength of its mountains. These too, wasted
+and decayed, seemed rather to exist than to flourish, and only served to
+indicate what the landscape had once been. But the stream brawled down
+among them in all its freshness and vivacity, giving the life and
+animation which a mountain rivulet alone can confer on the barest and
+most savage scenes, and which the inhabitants of such a country miss when
+gazing even upon the tranquil winding of a majestic stream through plains
+of fertility, and beside palaces of splendour. The track of the road
+followed the course of the brook, which was now visible, and now only to
+be distinguished by its brawling heard among the stones or in the clefts
+of the rock that occasionally interrupted its course.
+
+“Murmurer that thou art,” said Morton, in the enthusiasm of his reverie,
+“why chafe with the rocks that stop thy course for a moment? There is a
+sea to receive thee in its bosom; and there is an eternity for man when
+his fretful and hasty course through the vale of time shall be ceased and
+over. What thy petty fuming is to the deep and vast billows of a
+shoreless ocean, are our cares, hopes, fears, joys, and sorrows to the
+objects which must occupy us through the awful and boundless succession
+of ages!”
+
+Thus moralizing, our traveller passed on till the dell opened, and the
+banks, receding from the brook, left a little green vale, exhibiting a
+croft, or small field, on which some corn was growing, and a cottage,
+whose walls were not above five feet high, and whose thatched roof, green
+with moisture, age, houseleek, and grass, had in some places suffered
+damage from the encroachment of two cows, whose appetite this appearance
+of verdure had diverted from their more legitimate pasture. An ill-spelt
+and worse-written inscription intimated to the traveller that he might
+here find refreshment for man and horse,--no unacceptable intimation,
+rude as the hut appeared to be, considering the wild path he had trod in
+approaching it, and the high and waste mountains which rose in desolate
+dignity behind this humble asylum.
+
+It must indeed have been, thought Morton, in some such spot as this that
+Burley was likely to find a congenial confident.
+
+As he approached, he observed the good dame of the house herself, seated
+by the door; she had hitherto been concealed from him by a huge
+alder-bush.
+
+“Good evening, Mother,” said the traveller. “Your name is Mistress
+Maclure?”
+
+“Elizabeth Maclure, sir, a poor widow,” was the reply.
+
+“Can you lodge a stranger for a night?”
+
+“I can, sir, if he will be pleased with the widow’s cake and the widow’s
+cruse.”
+
+“I have been a soldier, good dame,” answered Morton, “and nothing can
+come amiss to me in the way of entertainment.”
+
+“A sodger, sir?” said the old woman, with a sigh,--“God send ye a better
+trade!”
+
+“It is believed to be an honourable profession, my good dame; I hope you
+do not think the worse of me for having belonged to it?”
+
+“I judge no one, sir,” replied the woman, “and your voice sounds like
+that of a civil gentleman; but I hae witnessed sae muckle ill wi’
+sodgering in this puir land that I am e’en content that I can see nae
+mair o’t wi’ these sightless organs.”
+
+As she spoke thus, Morton observed that she was blind.
+
+“Shall I not be troublesome to you, my good dame?” said he,
+compassionately; “your infirmity seems ill calculated for your
+profession.”
+
+“Na, sir,” answered the old woman, “I can gang about the house readily
+eneugh; and I hae a bit lassie to help me, and the dragoon lads will look
+after your horse when they come hame frae their patrol, for a sma’
+matter; they are civiller now than lang syne.”
+
+Upon these assurances, Morton alighted.
+
+“Peggy, my bonny bird,” continued the hostess, addressing a little girl
+of twelve years old, who had by this time appeared, “tak the gentleman’s
+horse to the stable, and slack his girths, and tak aff the bridle, and
+shake down a lock o’ hay before him, till the dragoons come back.--Come
+this way, sir,” she continued; “ye’ll find my house clean, though it’s a
+puir ane.”
+
+Morton followed her into the cottage accordingly.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+               Then out and spake the auld mother,
+               And fast her tears did fa
+               “Ye wadna be warn’d, my son Johnie,
+               Frae the hunting to bide awa!”
+                                           Old Ballad.
+
+When he entered the cottage, Morton perceived that the old hostess had
+spoken truth. The inside of the hut belied its outward appearance, and
+was neat, and even comfortable, especially the inner apartment, in which
+the hostess informed her guest that he was to sup and sleep. Refreshments
+were placed before him such as the little inn afforded; and though he had
+small occasion for them, he accepted the offer, as the means of
+maintaining some discourse with the landlady. Notwithstanding her
+blindness, she was assiduous in her attendance, and seemed, by a sort of
+instinct, to find her way to what she wanted.
+
+“Have you no one but this pretty little girl to assist you in waiting on
+your guests?” was the natural question.
+
+“None, sir,” replied his old hostess; “I dwell alone, like the widow of
+Zarephath. Few guests come to this puir place, and I haena custom eneugh
+to hire servants. I had anes twa fine sons that lookit after a’ thing.
+--But God gives and takes away,--His name be praised!” she continued,
+turning her clouded eyes towards Heaven.--“I was anes better off, that
+is, waridly speaking, even since I lost them; but that was before this
+last change.”
+
+“Indeed!” said Morton; “and yet you are a Presbyterian, my good mother?”
+
+“I am, sir; praised be the light that showed me the right way,” replied
+the landlady.
+
+“Then I should have thought,” continued the guest, “the Revolution would
+have brought you nothing but good.”
+
+“If,” said the old woman, “it has brought the land gude, and freedom of
+worship to tender consciences, it’s little matter what it has brought to
+a puir blind worm like me.”
+
+“Still,” replied Morton, “I cannot see how it could possibly injure you.”
+
+“It’s a lang story, sir,” answered his hostess, with a sigh. “But ae
+night, sax weeks or thereby afore Bothwell Brigg, a young gentleman
+stopped at this puir cottage, stiff and bloody with wounds, pale and dune
+out wi’ riding, and his horse sae weary he couldna drag ae foot after the
+other, and his foes were close ahint him, and he was ane o’ our enemies.
+What could I do, sir? You that’s a sodger will think me but a silly auld
+wife; but I fed him, and relieved him, and keepit him hidden till the
+pursuit was ower.”
+
+“And who,” said Morton, “dares disapprove of your having done so?”
+
+“I kenna,” answered the blind woman; “I gat ill-will about it amang some
+o’ our ain folk. They said I should hae been to him what Jael was to
+Sisera. But weel I wot I had nae divine command to shed blood, and to
+save it was baith like a woman and a Christian. And then they said I
+wanted natural affection, to relieve ane that belanged to the band that
+murdered my twa sons.”
+
+“That murdered your two sons?”
+
+“Ay, sir; though maybe ye’ll gie their deaths another name. The tane fell
+wi’ sword in hand, fighting for a broken national Covenant; the
+tother,--oh, they took him and shot him dead on the green before his
+mother’s face! My auld een dazzled when the shots were looten off, and,
+to my thought, they waxed weaker and weaker ever since that weary day;
+and sorrow, and heart-break, and tears that would not be dried, might
+help on the disorder. But, alas! betraying Lord Evandale’s young blood
+to his enemies’ sword wad ne’er hae brought my Ninian and Johnie alive
+again.”
+
+“Lord Evandale?” said Morton, in surprise. “Was it Lord Evandale whose
+life you saved?”
+
+“In troth, even his,” she replied. “And kind he was to me after, and gae
+me a cow and calf, malt, meal, and siller, and nane durst steer me when
+he was in power. But we live on an outside bit of Tillietudlem land, and
+the estate was sair plea’d between Leddy Margaret Bellenden and the
+present laird, Basil Olifant, and Lord Evandale backed the auld leddy for
+love o’ her daughter Miss Edith, as the country said, ane o’ the best and
+bonniest lassies in Scotland. But they behuved to gie way, and Basil gat
+the Castle and land, and on the back o’ that came the Revolution, and wha
+to turn coat faster than the laird? for he said he had been a true Whig
+a’ the time, and turned papist only for fashion’s sake. And then he got
+favour, and Lord Evandale’s head was under water; for he was ower proud
+and manfu’ to bend to every blast o’ wind, though mony a ane may ken as
+weel as me that be his ain principles as they might, he was nae ill
+friend to our folk when he could protect us, and far kinder than Basil
+Olifant, that aye keepit the cobble head doun the stream. But he was set
+by and ill looked on, and his word ne’er asked; and then Basil, wha’s a
+revengefu’ man, set himsell to vex him in a’ shapes, and especially by
+oppressing and despoiling the auld blind widow, Bessie Maclure, that
+saved Lord Evandale’s life, and that he was sae kind to. But he’s mistaen
+if that’s his end; for it will be lang or Lord Evandale hears a word frae
+me about the selling my kye for rent or e’er it was due, or the putting
+the dragoons on me when the country’s quiet, or onything else that will
+vex him,--I can bear my ain burden patiently, and warld’s loss is the
+least part o’t.”
+
+Astonished and interested at this picture of patient, grateful, and
+high-minded resignation, Morton could not help bestowing an execration
+upon the poor-spirited rascal who had taken such a dastardly course of
+vengeance.
+
+“Dinna curse him, sir,” said the old woman; “I have heard a good man say
+that a curse was like a stone flung up to the heavens, and maist like to
+return on the head that sent it. But if ye ken Lord Evandale, bid him
+look to himsell, for I hear strange words pass atween the sodgers that
+are lying here, and his name is often mentioned; and the tane o’ them has
+been twice up at Tillietudlem. He’s a kind of favourite wi’ the laird,
+though he was in former times ane o’ the maist cruel oppressors ever rade
+through a country (out-taken Sergeant Bothwell),--they ca’ him Inglis.”
+
+“I have the deepest interest in Lord Evandale’s safety,” said Morton,
+“and you may depend on my finding some mode to apprise him of these
+suspicious circumstances. And, in return, my good friend, will you
+indulge me with another question? Do you know anything of Quintin Mackell
+of Irongray?”
+
+“Do I know whom?” echoed the blind woman, in a tone of great surprise and
+alarm.
+
+“Quintin Mackell of Irongray,” repeated Morton. “Is there anything so
+alarming in the sound of that name?”
+
+“Na, na,” answered the woman, with hesitation; “but to hear him asked
+after by a stranger and a sodger,--Gude protect us, what mischief is
+to come next!”
+
+“None by my means, I assure you,” said Morton; “the subject of my inquiry
+has nothing to fear from me if, as I suppose, this Quintin Mackell is the
+same with John Bal-----.”
+
+“Do not mention his name,” said the widow, pressing his lips with her
+fingers. “I see you have his secret and his pass-word, and I’ll be free
+wi’ you. But, for God’s sake, speak lound and low. In the name of Heaven,
+I trust ye seek him not to his hurt! Ye said ye were a sodger?”
+
+“I said truly; but one he has nothing to fear from. I commanded a party
+at Bothwell Bridge.”
+
+“Indeed?” said the woman. “And verily there is something in your voice I
+can trust. Ye speak prompt and readily, and like an honest man.”
+
+“I trust I am so,” said Morton.
+
+“But nae displeasure to you, sir, in thae waefu’ times,” continued Mrs.
+Maclure, “the hand of brother is against brother, and he fears as mickle
+almaist frae this Government as e’er he did frae the auld persecutors.”
+
+“Indeed?” said Morton, in a tone of inquiry; “I was not aware of that. But
+I am only just now returned from abroad.”
+
+“I’ll tell ye,” said the blind woman, first assuming an attitude of
+listening that showed how effectually her powers of collecting
+intelligence had been transferred from the eye to the ear; for, instead
+of casting a glance of circumspection around, she stooped her face, and
+turned her head slowly around, in such a manner as to insure that there
+was not the slightest sound stirring in the neighbourhood, and then
+continued,--“I’ll tell ye. Ye ken how he has laboured to raise up again
+the Covenant, burned, broken, and buried in the hard hearts and selfish
+devices of this stubborn people. Now, when he went to Holland, far from
+the countenance and thanks of the great, and the comfortable fellowship
+of the godly, both whilk he was in right to expect, the Prince of Orange
+wad show him no favour, and the ministers no godly communion. This was
+hard to bide for ane that had suffered and done mickle,--ower mickle, it
+may be; but why suld I be a judge? He came back to me and to the auld
+place o’ refuge that had often received him in his distresses, mair
+especially before the great day of victory at Drumclog, for I sail ne’er
+forget how he was bending hither of a’ nights in the year on that e’ening
+after the play when young Milnwood wan the popinjay; but I warned him off
+for that time.”
+
+“What!” exclaimed Morton, “it was you that sat in your red cloak by the
+high-road, and told him there was a lion in the path?”
+
+“In the name of Heaven! wha are ye?” said the old woman, breaking off her
+narrative in astonishment. “But be wha ye may,” she continued, resuming
+it with tranquillity, “ye can ken naething waur o’ me than that I hae
+been willing to save the life o’ friend and foe.”
+
+“I know no ill of you, Mrs. Maclure, and I mean no ill by you; I only
+wished to show you that I know so much of this person’s affairs that I
+might be safely intrusted with the rest. Proceed, if you please, in your
+narrative.”
+
+“There is a strange command in your voice,” said the blind woman, “though
+its tones are sweet. I have little mair to say. The Stewarts hae been
+dethroned, and William and Mary reign in their stead; but nae mair word
+of the Covenant than if it were a dead letter. They hae taen the indulged
+clergy, and an Erastian General Assembly of the ante pure and triumphant
+Kirk of Scotland, even into their very arms and bosoms. Our faithfu’
+champions o’ the testimony agree e’en waur wi’ this than wi’ the open
+tyranny and apostasy of the persecuting times, for souls are hardened and
+deadened, and the mouths of fasting multitudes are crammed wi’ fizenless
+bran instead of the sweet word in season; and mony an hungry, starving
+creature, when he sits down on a Sunday forenoon to get something that
+might warm him to the great work, has a dry clatter o’ morality driven
+about his lugs, and--”
+
+“In short,” said Morton, desirous to stop a discussion which the good old
+woman, as enthusiastically attached to her religious profession as to the
+duties of humanity, might probably have indulged longer,--“In short, you
+are not disposed to acquiesce in this new government, and Burley is of
+the same opinion?”
+
+“Many of our brethren, sir, are of belief we fought for the Covenant, and
+fasted and prayed and suffered for that grand national league, and now we
+are like neither to see nor hear tell of that which we suffered and
+fought and fasted and prayed for. And anes it was thought something might
+be made by bringing back the auld family on a new bargain and a new
+bottom, as, after a’, when King James went awa, I understand the great
+quarrel of the English against him was in behalf of seven unhallowed
+prelates; and sae, though ae part of our people were free to join wi’ the
+present model, and levied an armed regiment under the Yerl of Angus, yet
+our honest friend, and others that stude up for purity of doctrine and
+freedom of conscience, were determined to hear the breath o’ the
+Jacobites before they took part again them, fearing to fa’ to the ground
+like a wall built with unslaked mortar, or from sitting between twa
+stools.”
+
+“They chose an odd quarter,” said Morton, “from which to expect freedom
+of conscience and purity of doctrine.”
+
+“Oh, dear sir!” said the landlady, “the natural day-spring rises in the
+east, but the spiritual dayspring may rise in the north, for what we
+blinded mortals ken.”
+
+“And Burley went to the north to seek it?” replied the guest.
+
+“Truly ay, sir; and he saw Claver’se himsell, that they ca’ Dundee now.”
+
+“What!” exclaimed Morton, in amazement; “I would have sworn that meeting
+would have been the last of one of their lives.”
+
+“Na, na, sir; in troubled times, as I understand,” said Mrs. Maclure,
+“there’s sudden changes,--Montgomery and Ferguson and mony ane mair that
+were King James’s greatest faes are on his side now. Claver’se spake our
+friend fair, and sent him to consult with Lord Evandale. But then there
+was a break-off, for Lord Evandale wadna look at, hear, or speak wi’ him;
+and now he’s anes wud and aye waur, and roars for revenge again Lord
+Evandale, and will hear nought of onything but burn and slay. And oh,
+thae starts o’ passion! they unsettle his mind, and gie the Enemy sair
+advantages.”
+
+“The enemy?” said Morton; “What enemy?”
+
+“What enemy? Are ye acquainted familiarly wi’ John Balfour o’ Burley, and
+dinna ken that he has had sair and frequent combats to sustain against
+the Evil One? Did ye ever see him alone but the Bible was in his hand,
+and the drawn sword on his knee? Did ye never sleep in the same room wi’
+him, and hear him strive in his dreams with the delusions of Satan? Oh,
+ye ken little o’ him if ye have seen him only in fair daylight; for nae
+man can put the face upon his doleful visits and strifes that he can do.
+I hae seen him, after sic a strife of agony, tremble that an infant might
+hae held him, while the hair on his brow was drapping as fast as ever my
+puir thatched roof did in a heavy rain.” As she spoke, Morton began to
+recollect the appearance of Burley during his sleep in the hay-loft at
+Milnwood, the report of Cuddie that his senses had become impaired, and
+some whispers current among the Cameronians, who boasted frequently of
+Burley’s soul-exercises and his strifes with the foul fiend,--which
+several circumstances led him to conclude that this man himself was a
+victim to those delusions, though his mind, naturally acute and forcible,
+not only disguised his superstition from those in whose opinion it might
+have discredited his judgment, but by exerting such a force as is said to
+be proper to those afflicted with epilepsy, could postpone the fits which
+it occasioned until he was either freed from superintendence, or
+surrounded by such as held him more highly on account of these
+visitations. It was natural to suppose, and could easily be inferred from
+the narrative of Mrs. Maclure, that disappointed ambition, wrecked hopes,
+and the downfall of the party which he had served with such desperate
+fidelity, were likely to aggravate enthusiasm into temporary insanity. It
+was, indeed, no uncommon circumstance in those singular times that men
+like Sir Harry Vane, Harrison, Overton, and others, themselves slaves to
+the wildest and most enthusiastic dreams, could, when mingling with the
+world, conduct themselves not only with good sense in difficulties, and
+courage in dangers, but with the most acute sagacity and determined
+valour. The subsequent part of Mrs. Maclure’s information confirmed
+Morton in these impressions.
+
+“In the grey of the morning,” she said, “my little Peggy sail show ye the
+gate to him before the sodgers are up. But ye maun let his hour of
+danger, as he ca’s it, be ower, afore ye venture on him in his place of
+refuge. Peggy will tell ye when to venture in. She kens his ways weel,
+for whiles she carries him some little helps that he canna do
+without to sustain life.”
+
+“And in what retreat, then,” said Morton, “has this unfortunate person
+found refuge?”
+
+“An awsome place,” answered the blind woman, “as ever living creature
+took refuge in; they ca it the Black Linn of Linklater. It’s a doleful
+place, but he loves it abune a’ others, because he has sae often been in
+safe hiding there; and it’s my belief he prefers it to a tapestried
+chamber and a down bed. But ye’ll see ’t. I hae seen it mysell mony a day
+syne. I was a daft hempie lassie then, and little thought what was to
+come o’t.--Wad ye choose ony thing, sir, ere ye betake yoursell to your
+rest, for ye maun stir wi’ the first dawn o’ the grey light?”
+
+“Nothing more, my good mother,” said Morton; and they parted for the
+evening.
+
+Morton recommended himself to Heaven, threw himself on the bed, heard,
+between sleeping and waking, the trampling of the dragoon horses at the
+riders’ return from their patrol, and then slept soundly after such
+painful agitation.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+               The darksome cave they enter, where they found
+               The accursed man low sitting on the ground,
+               Musing full sadly in his sullen mind.
+                                      SPENSER.
+
+As the morning began to appear on the mountains, a gentle knock was heard
+at the door of the humble apartment in which Morton slept, and a girlish
+treble voice asked him, from without, “If he wad please gang to the Linn
+or the folk raise?”
+
+He arose upon the invitation, and, dressing himself hastily, went forth
+and joined his little guide. The mountain maid tript lightly before him,
+through the grey haze, over hill and moor. It was a wild and varied walk,
+unmarked by any regular or distinguishable track, and keeping, upon the
+whole, the direction of the ascent of the brook, though without tracing
+its windings. The landscape, as they advanced, became waster and more
+wild, until nothing but heath and rock encumbered the side of the valley.
+
+“Is the place still distant?” said Morton. “Nearly a mile off,” answered
+the girl. “We’ll be there belive.”
+
+“And do you often go this wild journey, my little maid?”
+
+“When grannie sends me wi’ milk and meal to the Linn,” answered the
+child.
+
+“And are you not afraid to travel so wild a road alone?”
+
+“Hout na, sir,” replied the guide; “nae living creature wad touch sic a
+bit thing as I am, and grannie says we need never fear onything else when
+we are doing a gude turn.”
+
+“Strong in innocence as in triple mail!” said Morton to himself, and
+followed her steps in silence.
+
+They soon came to a decayed thicket, where brambles and thorns supplied
+the room of the oak and birches of which it had once consisted. Here the
+guide turned short off the open heath, and, by a sheep-track, conducted
+Morton to the brook. A hoarse and sullen roar had in part prepared him
+for the scene which presented itself, yet it was not to be viewed without
+surprise and even terror. When he emerged from the devious path which
+conducted him through the thicket, he found himself placed on a ledge of
+flat rock projecting over one side of a chasm not less than a hundred
+feet deep, where the dark mountain-stream made a decided and rapid shoot
+over the precipice, and was swallowed up by a deep, black, yawning gulf.
+The eye in vain strove to see the bottom of the fall; it could catch but
+one sheet of foaming uproar and sheer descent, until the view was
+obstructed by the proecting crags which enclosed the bottom of the
+waterfall, and hid from sight the dark pool which received its tortured
+waters; far beneath, at the distance of perhaps a quarter of a mile, the
+eye caught the winding of the stream as it emerged into a more open
+course. But, for that distance, they were lost to sight as much as if a
+cavern had been arched over them; and indeed the steep and projecting
+ledges of rock through which they wound their way in darkness were very
+nearly closing and over-roofing their course.
+
+While Morton gazed at this scene of tumult, which seemed, by the
+surrounding thickets and the clefts into which the waters descended, to
+seek to hide itself from every eye, his little attendant as she stood
+beside him on the platform of rock which commanded the best view of the
+fall, pulled him by the sleeve, and said, in a tone which he could not
+hear without stooping his ear near the speaker, “Hear till him! Eh! hear
+till him!”
+
+Morton listened more attentively; and out of the very abyss into which
+the brook fell, and amidst the turnultuary sounds of the cataract,
+thought he could distinguish shouts, screams, and even articulate words,
+as if the tortured demon of the stream had been mingling his complaints
+with the roar of his broken waters.
+
+“This is the way,” said the little girl; “follow me, gin ye please, sir,
+but tak tent to your feet;” and, with the daring agility which custom had
+rendered easy, she vanished from the platform on which she stood, and, by
+notches and slight projections in the rock, scrambled down its face into
+the chasm which it overhung. Steady, bold, and active, Morton hesitated
+not to follow her; but the necessary attention to secure his hold and
+footing in a descent where both foot and hand were needful for security,
+prevented him from looking around him, till, having descended nigh twenty
+feet, and being sixty or seventy above the pool which received the fall,
+his guide made a pause, and he again found himself by her side in a
+situation that appeared equally romantic and precarious. They were nearly
+opposite to the waterfall, and in point of level situated at about
+one-quarter’s depth from the point of the cliff over which it thundered,
+and three-fourths of the height above the dark, deep, and restless pool
+which received its fall. Both these tremendous points--the first shoot,
+namely, of the yet unbroken stream, and the deep and sombre abyss into
+which it was emptied--were full before him, as well as the whole
+continuous stream of billowy froth, which, dashing from the one, was
+eddying and boiling in the other. They were so near this grand phenomenon
+that they were covered with its spray, and well-nigh deafened by the
+incessant roar. But crossing in the very front of the fall, and at scarce
+three yards distance from the cataract, an old oak-tree, flung across the
+chasm in a manner that seemed accidental, formed a bridge of fearfully
+narrow dimensions and uncertain footing. The upper end of the tree rested
+on the platform on which they stood; the lower or uprooted extremity
+extended behind a projection on the opposite side, and was secured,
+Morton’s eye could not discover where. From behind the same projection
+glimmered a strong red light, which, glancing in the waves of the falling
+water, and tinging them partially with crimson, had a strange
+preternatural and sinister effect when contrasted with the beams of the
+rising sun, which glanced on the first broken waves of the fall, though
+even its meridian splendour could not gain the third of its full depth.
+When he had looked around him for a moment, the girl again pulled his
+sleeve, and, pointing to the oak and the projecting point beyond it (for
+hearing speech was now out of the question), indicated that there lay his
+farther passage.
+
+Morton gazed at her with surprise; for although he well knew that the
+persecuted Presbyterians had in the preceding reigns sought refuge among
+dells and thickets, caves and cataracts, in spots the most extraordinary
+and secluded; although he had heard of the champions of the Covenant, who
+had long abidden beside Dobs-lien on the wild heights of Polmoodie, and
+others who had been concealed in the yet more terrific cavern called
+Creehope-linn, in the parish of Closeburn,--yet his imagination had never
+exactly figured out the horrors of such a residence, and he was surprised
+how the strange and romantic scene which he now saw had remained
+concealed from him, while a curious investigator of such natural
+phenomena. But he readily conceived that, lying in a remote and wild
+district, and being destined as a place of concealment to the persecuted
+preachers and professors of nonconformity, the secret of its existence
+was carefully preserved by the few shepherds to whom it might be known.
+As, breaking from these meditations, he began to consider how he should
+traverse the doubtful and terrific bridge, which, skirted by the cascade,
+and rendered wet and slippery by its constant drizzle, traversed the
+chasm above sixty feet from the bottom of the fall, his guide, as if to
+give him courage, tript over and back without the least hesitation.
+Envying for a moment the little bare feet which caught a safer hold of
+the rugged side of the oak than he could pretend to with his heavy boots,
+Morton nevertheless resolved to attempt the passage, and, fixing his eye
+firm on a stationary object on the other side, without allowing his head
+to become giddy, or his attention to be distracted by the flash, the
+foam, and the roar of the waters around him, he strode steadily and
+safely along the uncertain bridge, and reached the mouth of a small
+cavern on the farther side of the torrent. Here he paused; for a light,
+proceeding from a fire of red-hot charcoal, permitted him to see the
+interior of the cave, and enabled him to contemplate the appearance of
+its inhabitant, by whom he himself could not be so readily distinguished,
+being concealed by the shadow of the rock. What he observed would by no
+means have encouraged a less determined man to proceed with the task
+which he had undertaken.
+
+Burley, only altered from what he had been formerly by the addition of a
+grisly beard, stood in the midst of the cave, with his clasped Bible in
+one hand, and his drawn sword in the other. His figure, dimly ruddied by
+the light of the red charcoal, seemed that of a fiend in the lurid
+atmosphere of Pandemonium, and his gestures and words, as far as they
+could be heard, seemed equally violent and irregular. All alone, and in a
+place of almost unapproachable seclusion, his demeanour was that of
+a man who strives for life and death with a mortal enemy. “Ha!
+ha!--there--there!” he exclaimed, accompanying each word with a thrust,
+urged with his whole force against the impassible and empty air, “Did I
+not tell thee so?--I have resisted, and thou fleest from me!--Coward as
+thou art, come in all thy terrors; come with mine own evil deeds, which
+render thee most terrible of all,--there is enough betwixt the boards of
+this book to rescue me!--What mutterest thou of grey hairs? It was well
+done to slay him,--the more ripe the corn, the readier for the sickle.--
+Art gone? Art gone?--I have ever known thee but a coward--ha! ha! ha!”
+
+With these wild exclamations he sunk the point of his sword, and remained
+standing still in the same posture, like a maniac whose fit is over.
+
+“The dangerous time is by now,” said the little girl who had followed;
+“it seldom lasts beyond the time that the sun’s ower the hill; ye may
+gang in and speak wi’ him now. I’ll wait for you at the other side of the
+linn; he canna bide to see twa folk at anes.”
+
+Slowly and cautiously, and keeping constantly upon his guard, Morton
+presented himself to the view of his old associate in command.
+
+“What! comest thou again when thine hour is over?” was his first
+exclamation; and flourishing his sword aloft, his countenance assumed an
+expression in which ghastly terror seemed mingled with the rage of a
+demoniac.
+
+“I am come, Mr. Balfour,” said Morton, in a steady and composed tone,
+“to renew an acquaintance which has been broken off since the fight of
+Bothwell Bridge.”
+
+As soon as Burley became aware that Morton was before him in person,--an
+idea which he caught with marvellous celerity,--he at once exerted that
+mastership over his heated and enthusiastic imagination, the power of
+enforcing which was a most striking part of his extraordinary character.
+He sunk his sword-point at once, and as he stole it composedly into the
+scabbard, he muttered something of the damp and cold which sent an old
+soldier to his fencing exercise, to prevent his blood from chilling. This
+done, he proceeded in the cold, determined manner which was peculiar to
+his ordinary discourse:--
+
+“Thou hast tarried long, Henry Morton, and hast not come to the vintage
+before the twelfth hour has struck. Art thou yet willing to take the
+right hand of fellowship, and be one with those who look not to thrones
+or dynasties, but to the rule of Scripture, for their directions?”
+
+
+[Illustration: Morton and Black Linn--272]
+
+
+“I am surprised,” said Morton, evading the direct answer to his question,
+“that you should have known me after so many years.”
+
+“The features of those who ought to act with me are engraved on my
+heart,” answered Burley; “and few but Silas Morton’s son durst have
+followed me into this my castle of retreat. Seest thou that drawbridge of
+Nature’s own construction?” he added, pointing to the prostrate
+oak-tree,--“one spurn of my foot, and it is overwhelmed in the abyss
+below, bidding foeman on the farther side stand at defiance, and leaving
+enemies on this at the mercy of one who never yet met his equal in single
+fight.”
+
+“Of such defences,” said Morton, “I should have thought you would now
+have had little need.”
+
+“Little need?” said Burley impatiently. “What little need, when incarnate
+fiends are combined against me on earth, and Sathan himself--But it
+matters not,” added he, checking himself. “Enough that I like my place
+of refuge, my cave of Adullam, and would not change its rude ribs of
+limestone rock for the fair chambers of the castle of the earls of
+Torwood, with their broad bounds and barony. Thou, unless the foolish
+fever-fit be over, mayst think differently.”
+
+“It was of those very possessions I came to speak,” said Morton; “and I
+doubt not to find Mr. Balfour the same rational and reflecting person
+which I knew him to be in times when zeal disunited brethren.”
+
+“Ay?” said Burley; “indeed? Is such truly your hope? Wilt thou express it
+more plainly?”
+
+“In a word, then,” said Morton, “you have exercised, by means at which I
+can guess, a secret, but most prejudicial, influence over the fortunes of
+Lady Margaret Bellenden and her granddaughter, and in favour of that
+base, oppressive apostate, Basil Olifant, whom the law, deceived by thy
+operations, has placed in possession of their lawful property.”
+
+“Sayest thou?” said Balfour.
+
+“I do say so,” replied Morton; “and face to face you will not deny what
+you have vouched by your handwriting.”
+
+“And suppose I deny it not,” said Balfour; “and suppose that
+thy--eloquence were found equal to persuade me to retrace the steps I
+have taken on matured resolve,--what will be thy meed? Dost thou still
+hope to possess the fair-haired girl, with her wide and rich
+inheritance?”
+
+“I have no such hope,” answered Morton, calmly.
+
+“And for whom, then, hast thou ventured to do this great thing,--to seek
+to rend the prey from the valiant, to bring forth food from the den of
+the lion, and to extract sweetness from the maw of the devourer? For
+whose sake hast thou undertaken to read this riddle, more hard than
+Samson’s?”
+
+“For Lord Evandale’s and that of his bride,” replied Morton, firmly.
+“Think better of mankind, Mr. Balfour, and believe there are some who are
+willing to sacrifice their happiness to that of others.”
+
+“Then, as my soul liveth,” replied Balfour, “thou art, to wear beard and
+back a horse and draw a sword, the tamest and most gall-less puppet that
+ever sustained injury unavenged. What! thou wouldst help that accursed
+Evandale to the arms of the woman that thou lovest; thou wouldst endow
+them with wealth and with heritages, and thou think’st that there lives
+another man, offended even more deeply than thou, yet equally
+cold-livered and mean-spirited, crawling upon the face of the earth,
+and hast dared to suppose that one other to be John Balfour?”
+
+“For my own feelings,” said Morton, composedly, “I am answerable to none
+but Heaven; to you, Mr. Balfour, I should suppose it of little
+consequence whether Basil Olifant or Lord Evandale possess these
+estates.”
+
+“Thou art deceived,” said Burley; “both are indeed in outer darkness,
+and strangers to the light, as he whose eyes have never been opened to
+the day. But this Basil Olifant is a Nabal, a Demas, a base churl whose
+wealth and power are at the disposal of him who can threaten to deprive
+him of them. He became a professor because he was deprived of these lands
+of Tillietudlem; he turned a papist to obtain possession of them; he
+called himself an Erastian, that he might not again lose them; and he
+will become what I list while I have in my power the document that may
+deprive him of them. These lands are a bit between his jaws and a hook in
+his nostrils, and the rein and the line are in my hands to guide them as
+I think meet; and his they shall therefore be, unless I had assurance of
+bestowing them on a sure and sincere friend. But Lord Evandale is a
+malignant, of heart like flint, and brow like adamant; the goods of the
+world fall on him like leaves on the frost-bound earth, and unmoved he
+will see them whirled off by the first wind. The heathen virtues of such
+as he are more dangerous to us than the sordid cupidity of those who,
+governed by their interest, must follow where it leads, and who,
+therefore, themselves the slaves of avarice, may be compelled to work
+in the vineyard, were it but to earn the wages of sin.”
+
+“This might have been all well some years since,” replied Morton, “and I
+could understand your argument, although I could never acquiesce in its
+justice. But at this crisis it seems useless to you to persevere in
+keeping up an influence which can no longer be directed to an useful
+purpose. The land has peace, liberty, and freedom of conscience,--and
+what would you more?”
+
+“More!” exclaimed Burley, again unsheathing his sword, with a vivacity
+which nearly made Morton start. “Look at the notches upon that weapon
+they are three in number, are they not?”
+
+“It seems so,” answered Morton; “but what of that?”
+
+“The fragment of steel that parted from this first gap rested on the
+skull of the perjured traitor who first introduced Episcopacy into
+Scotland; this second notch was made in the rib-bone of an impious
+villain, the boldest and best soldier that upheld the prelatic cause at
+Drumclog; this third was broken on the steel head-piece of the captain
+who defended the Chapel of Holyrood when the people rose at the
+Revolution. I cleft him to the teeth, through steel and bone. It has done
+great deeds, this little weapon, and each of these blows was a
+deliverance to the Church. This sword,” he said, again sheathing it,
+“has yet more to do,--to weed out this base and pestilential heresy of
+Erastianism; to vindicate the true liberty of the Kirk in her purity;
+to restore the Covenant in its glory,--then let it moulder and rust
+beside the bones of its master.”
+
+“You have neither men nor means, Mr. Balfour, to disturb the Government
+as now settled,” argued Morton; “the people are in general satisfied,
+excepting only the gentlemen of the Jacobite interest; and surely you
+would not join with those who would only use you for their own purposes?”
+
+“It is they,” answered Burley, “that should serve ours. I went to the
+camp of the malignant Claver’se, as the future King of Israel sought the
+land of the Philistines; I arranged with him a rising; and but for the
+villain Evandale, the Erastians ere now had been driven from the West.--
+I could slay him,” he added, with a vindictive scowl, “were he grasping
+the horns of the altar!” He then proceeded in a calmer tone: “If thou,
+son of mine ancient comrade, were suitor for thyself to this Edith
+Bellenden, and wert willing to put thy hand to the great work with zeal
+equal to thy courage, think not I would prefer the friendship of Basil
+Olifant to thine; thou shouldst then have the means that this document
+[he produced a parchment] affords to place her in possession of the lands
+of her fathers. This have I longed to say to thee ever since I saw thee
+fight the good fight so strongly at the fatal Bridge. The maiden loved
+thee, and thou her.”
+
+Morton replied firmly, “I will not dissemble with you, Mr. Balfour, even
+to gain a good end. I came in hopes to persuade you to do a deed of
+justice to others, not to gain any selfish end of my own. I have failed;
+I grieve for your sake more than for the loss which others will sustain
+by your injustice.”
+
+“You refuse my proffer, then?” said Burley, with kindling eyes.
+
+“I do,” said Morton. “Would you be really, as you are desirous to be
+thought, a man of honour and conscience, you would, regardless of all
+other considerations, restore that parchment to Lord Evandale, to be used
+for the advantage of the lawful heir.”
+
+“Sooner shall it perish!” said Balfour; and, casting the deed into the
+heap of red charcoal beside him, pressed it down with the heel of his
+boot.
+
+While it smoked, shrivelled, and crackled in the flames, Morton sprung
+forward to snatch it, and Burley catching hold of him, a struggle ensued.
+Both were strong men; but although Morton was much the more active and
+younger of the two, yet Balfour was the most powerful, and effectually
+prevented him from rescuing the deed until it was fairly reduced to a
+cinder. They then quitted hold of each other, and the enthusiast,
+rendered fiercer by the contest, glared on Morton with an eye expressive
+of frantic revenge.
+
+“Thou hast my secret,” he exclaimed; “thou must be mine, or die!”
+
+“I contemn your threats,” said Morton; “I pity you, and leave you.”
+ But as he turned to retire, Burley stept before him, pushed the oak-trunk
+from its resting place, and as it fell thundering and crashing into the
+abyss beneath, drew his sword, and cried out, with a voice that rivalled
+the roar of the cataract and the thunder of the falling oak, “Now thou
+art at bay! Fight,--yield, or die!” and standing in the mouth of the
+cavern, he flourished his naked sword.
+
+“I will not fight with the man that preserved my father’s life,” said
+Morton. “I have not yet learned to say the words, ‘I yield;’ and my life
+I will rescue as I best can.”
+
+So speaking, and ere Balfour was aware of his purpose, he sprung past
+him, and exerting that youthful agility of which he possessed an uncommon
+share, leaped clear across the fearful chasm which divided the mouth of
+the cave from the projecting rock on the opposite side, and stood there
+safe and free from his incensed enemy. He immediately ascended the
+ravine, and, as he turned, saw Burley stand for an instant aghast with
+astonishment, and then, with the frenzy of disappointed rage, rush into
+the interior of his cavern.
+
+It was not difficult for him to perceive that this unhappy man’s mind had
+been so long agitated by desperate schemes and sudden disappointments
+that it had lost its equipoise, and that there was now in his conduct a
+shade of lunacy, not the less striking, from the vigour and craft with
+which he pursued his wild designs. Morton soon joined his guide, who had
+been terrified by the fall of the oak. This he represented as accidental;
+and she assured him, in return, that the inhabitant of the cave would
+experience no inconvenience from it, being always provided with materials
+to construct another bridge.
+
+The adventures of the morning were not yet ended. As they approached the
+hut, the little girl made an exclamation of surprise at seeing her
+grandmother groping her way towards them, at a greater distance from her
+home than she could have been supposed capable of travelling.
+
+“Oh, sir, sir!” said the old woman, when she heard them approach, “gin
+e’er ye loved Lord Evandale, help now, or never! God be praised that left
+my hearing when he took my poor eyesight! Come this way,--this way. And
+oh, tread lightly. Peggy, hinny, gang saddle the gentleman’s horse, and
+lead him cannily ahint the thorny shaw, and bide him there.”
+
+She conducted him to a small window, through which, himself unobserved,
+he could see two dragoons seated at their morning draught of ale, and
+conversing earnestly together.
+
+“The more I think of it,” said the one, “the less I like it, Inglis;
+Evandale was a good officer and the soldier’s friend; and though we were
+punished for the mutiny at Tillietudlem, yet, by ---, Frank, you must own
+we deserved it.”
+
+“D--n seize me if I forgive him for it, though!” replied the other; “and
+I think I can sit in his skirts now.”
+
+“Why, man, you should forget and forgive. Better take the start with him
+along with the rest, and join the ranting Highlanders. We have all eat
+King James’s bread.”
+
+“Thou art an ass; the start, as you call it, will never happen,--the
+day’s put off. Halliday’s seen a ghost, or Miss Bellenden’s fallen sick
+of the pip, or some blasted nonsense or another; the thing will never
+keep two days longer, and the first bird that sings out will get the
+reward.”
+
+“That’s true too,” answered his comrade; “and will this fellow--this
+Basil Olifant--pay handsomely?”
+
+“Like a prince, man,” said Inglis. “Evandale is the man on earth whom he
+hates worst, and he fears him, besides, about some law business; and were
+he once rubbed out of the way, all, he thinks, will be his own.”
+
+“But shall we have warrants and force enough?” said the other fellow.
+“Few people here will stir against my lord, and we may find him with some
+of our own fellows at his back.”
+
+“Thou ’rt a cowardly fool, Dick,” returned Inglis; “he is living quietly
+down at Fairy Knowe to avoid suspicion. Olifant is a magistrate, and will
+have some of his own people that he can trust along with him. There are
+us two, and the laird says he can get a desperate fighting Whig fellow,
+called Quintin Mackell, that has an old grudge at Evandale.”
+
+“Well, well, you are my officer, you know,” said the private, with true
+military conscience, “and if anything is wrong--”
+
+“I’ll take the blame,” said Inglis. “Come, another pot of ale, and let us
+to Tillietudlem.--Here, blind Bess!--Why, where the devil has the old hag
+crept to?”
+
+“Delay them as long as you can,” whispered Morton, as he thrust his purse
+into the hostess’s hand; “all depends on gaining time.”
+
+Then, walking swiftly to the place where the girl held his horse ready,
+“To Fairy Knowe? No; alone I could not protect them. I must instantly to
+Glasgow. Wittenbold, the commandant there, will readily give me the
+support of a troop, and procure me the countenance of the civil power. I
+must drop a caution as I pass.--Come, Moorkopf,” he said, addressing his
+horse as he mounted him, “this day must try your breath and speed.”
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+          Yet could he not his closing eyes withdraw,
+          Though less and less of Emily he saw;
+          So, speechless for a little space he lay,
+          Then grasp’d the hand he held, and sigh’d his soul away.
+                                       Palamon and Acite.
+
+The indisposition of Edith confined her to bed during the eventful day on
+which she had received such an unexpected shock from the sudden
+apparition of Morton. Next morning, however, she was reported to be so
+much better that Lord Evandale resumed his purpose of leaving Fairy
+Knowe. At a late hour in the forenoon Lady Emily entered the apartment of
+Edith with a peculiar gravity of manner. Having received and paid the
+compliments of the day, she observed it would be a sad one for her,
+though it would relieve Miss Bellenden of an encumbrance: “My brother
+leaves us today, Miss Bellenden.”
+
+“Leaves us!” exclaimed Edith, in surprise; “for his own house, I trust?”
+
+“I have reason to think he meditates a more distant journey,” answered
+Lady Emily; “he has little to detain him in this country.”
+
+“Good Heaven!” exclaimed Edith, “why was I born to become the wreck of
+all that is manly and noble! What can be done to stop him from running
+headlong on ruin? I will come down instantly.--Say that I implore he will
+not depart until I speak with him.”
+
+“It will be in vain, Miss Bellenden; but I will execute your commission;”
+ and she left the room as formally as she had entered it, and informed her
+brother Miss Bellenden was so much recovered as to propose coming
+downstairs ere he went away.
+
+“I suppose,” she added pettishly, “the prospect of being speedily
+released from our company has wrought a cure on her shattered nerves.”
+
+“Sister,” said Lord Evandale, “you are unjust, if not envious.”
+
+“Unjust I maybe, Evandale, but I should not have dreamt,” glancing her
+eye at a mirror, “of being thought envious without better cause. But let
+us go to the old lady; she is making a feast in the other room which
+might have dined all your troop when you had one.”
+
+Lord Evandale accompanied her in silence to the parlour, for he knew it
+was in vain to contend with her prepossessions and offended pride. They
+found the table covered with refreshments, arranged under the careful
+inspection of Lady Margaret.
+
+“Ye could hardly weel be said to breakfast this morning, my Lord
+Evandale, and ye maun e’en partake of a small collation before ye ride,
+such as this poor house, whose inmates are so much indebted to you, can
+provide in their present circumstances. For my ain part, I like to see
+young folk take some refection before they ride out upon their sports or
+their affairs, and I said as much to his most sacred Majesty when he
+breakfasted at Tillietudlem in the year of grace sixteen hundred and
+fifty-one; and his most sacred Majesty was pleased to reply, drinking to
+my health at the same time in a flagon of Rhenish wine, ‘Lady Margaret,
+ye speak like a Highland oracle.’ These were his Majesty’s very words;
+so that your lordship may judge whether I have not good authority to
+press young folk to partake of their vivers.”
+
+It may be well supposed that much of the good lady’s speech failed Lord
+Evandale’s ears, which were then employed in listening for the light step
+of Edith. His absence of mind on this occasion, however natural, cost him
+very dear. While Lady Margaret was playing the kind hostess,--a part she
+delighted and excelled in,--she was interrupted by John Gudyill, who, in
+the natural phrase for announcing an inferior to the mistress of a
+family, said, “There was ane wanting to speak to her leddyship.”
+
+“Ane! what ane? Has he nae name? Ye speak as if I kept a shop, and was to
+come at everybody’s whistle.”
+
+“Yes, he has a name,” answered John, “but your leddyship likes ill to
+hear’t.”
+
+“What is it, you fool?”
+
+“It’s Calf-Gibbie, my leddy,” said John, in a tone rather above the pitch
+of decorous respect, on which he occasionally trespassed, confiding in
+his merit as an ancient servant of the family and a faithful follower of
+their humble fortunes,--“It’s Calf-Gibbie, an your leddyship will hae’t,
+that keeps Edie Henshaw’s kye down yonder at the Brigg-end,--that’s him
+that was Guse-Gibbie at Tillietudlem, and gaed to the wappinshaw, and
+that--”
+
+“Hold your peace, John,” said the old lady, rising in dignity; “you are
+very insolent to think I wad speak wi’ a person like that. Let him tell
+his business to you or Mrs. Headrigg.”
+
+“He’ll no hear o’ that, my leddy; he says them that sent him bade him gie
+the thing to your leddyship’s ain hand direct, or to Lord Evandale’s, he
+wots na whilk. But, to say the truth, he’s far frae fresh, and he’s but
+an idiot an he were.”
+
+“Then turn him out,” said Lady Margaret, “and tell him to come back
+to-morrow when he is sober. I suppose he comes to crave some benevolence,
+as an ancient follower o’ the house.”
+
+“Like eneugh, my leddy, for he’s a’ in rags, poor creature.”
+
+Gudyill made another attempt to get at Gibbie’s commission, which was
+indeed of the last importance, being a few lines from Morton to Lord
+Evandale, acquainting him with the danger in which he stood from the
+practices of Olifant, and exhorting him either to instant flight, or else
+to come to Glasgow and surrender himself, where he could assure him of
+protection. This billet, hastily written, he intrusted to Gibbie, whom he
+saw feeding his herd beside the bridge, and backed with a couple of
+dollars his desire that it might instantly be delivered into the hand to
+which it was addressed.
+
+But it was decreed that Goose-Gibbie’s intermediation, whether as an
+emissary or as a man-at-arms, should be unfortunate to the family of
+Tillietudlem. He unluckily tarried so long at the ale-house to prove if
+his employer’s coin was good that, when he appeared at Fairy Knowe, the
+little sense which nature had given him was effectually drowned in ale
+and brandy; and instead of asking for Lord Evandale, he demanded to speak
+with Lady Margaret, whose name was more familiar to his ear. Being
+refused admittance to her presence, he staggered away with the letter
+undelivered, perversely faithful to Morton’s instructions in the only
+point in which it would have been well had he departed from them.
+A few minutes after he was gone, Edith entered the apartment. Lord
+Evandale and she met with mutual embarrassment, which Lady Margaret, who
+only knew in general that their union had been postponed by her
+granddaughter’s indisposition, set down to the bashfulness of a bride and
+bridegroom, and, to place them at ease, began to talk to Lady Emily on
+indifferent topics. At this moment Edith, with a countenance as pale as
+death, muttered, rather than whispered, to Lord Evandale a request to
+speak with him. He offered his arm, and supported her into the small
+ante-room, which, as we have noticed before, opened from the parlour. He
+placed her in a chair, and, taking one himself, awaited the opening of
+the conversation.
+
+“I am distressed, my lord,” were the first words she was able to
+articulate, and those with difficulty; “I scarce know what I would say,
+nor how to speak it.”
+
+“If I have any share in occasioning your uneasiness,” said Lord Evandale,
+mildly, “you will soon, Edith, be released from it.”
+
+“You are determined then, my lord,” she replied, “to run this desperate
+course with desperate men, in spite of your own better reason, in spite
+of your friends’ entreaties, in spite of the almost inevitable ruin which
+yawns before you?”
+
+“Forgive me, Miss Bellenden; even your solicitude on my account must not
+detain me when my honour calls. My horses stand ready saddled, my
+servants are prepared, the signal for rising will be given so soon as I
+reach Kilsyth. If it is my fate that calls me, I will not shun meeting
+it. It will be something,” he said, taking her hand, “to die deserving
+your compassion, since I cannot gain your love.”
+
+“Oh, my lord, remain!” said Edith, in a tone which went to his heart;
+“time may explain the strange circumstance which has shocked me so much;
+my agitated nerves may recover their tranquillity. Oh, do not rush on
+death and ruin! remain to be our prop and stay, and hope everything from
+time!”
+
+“It is too late, Edith,” answered Lord Evandale; “and I were most
+ungenerous could I practise on the warmth and kindliness of your feelings
+towards me. I know you cannot love me; nervous distress, so strong as to
+conjure up the appearance of the dead or absent, indicates a predilection
+too powerful to give way to friendship and gratitude alone. But were it
+otherwise, the die is now cast.”
+
+As he spoke thus, Cuddie burst into the room, terror and haste in his
+countenance. “Oh, my lord, hide yoursell! they hae beset the outlets o’
+the house,” was his first exclamation.
+
+“They? Who?” said Lord Evandale.
+
+“A party of horse, headed by Basil Olifant,” answered Cuddie.
+
+“Oh, hide yourself, my lord!” echoed Edith, in an agony of terror.
+
+“I will not, by Heaven!” answered Lord Evandale. “What right has the
+villain to assail me or stop my passage? I will make my way, were he
+backed by a regiment; tell Halliday and Hunter to get out the horses.--
+And now, farewell, Edith!” He clasped her in his arms, and kissed her
+tenderly; then, bursting from his sister, who, with Lady Margaret,
+endeavoured to detain him, rushed out and mounted his horse.
+
+All was in confusion; the women shrieked and hurried in consternation to
+the front windows of the house, from which they could see a small party
+of horsemen, of whom two only seemed soldiers. They were on the open
+ground before Cuddie’s cottage, at the bottom of the descent from the
+house, and showed caution in approaching it, as if uncertain of the
+strength within.
+
+“He may escape, he may escape!” said Edith; “oh, would he but take the
+by-road!”
+
+But Lord Evandale, determined to face a danger which his high spirit
+undervalued, commanded his servants to follow him, and rode composedly
+down the avenue. Old Gudyill ran to arm himself, and Cuddie snatched down
+a gun which was kept for the protection of the house, and, although on
+foot, followed Lord Evandale. It was in vain his wife, who had hurried up
+on the alarm, hung by his skirts, threatening him with death by the sword
+or halter for meddling with other folk’s matters.
+
+“Hand your peace, ye b----,” said Cuddie; “and that’s braid Scotch, or I
+wotna what is. Is it ither folk’s matters to see Lord Evandale murdered
+before my face?” and down the avenue he marched. But considering on the
+way that he composed the whole infantry, as John Gudyill had not
+appeared, he took his vantage ground behind the hedge, hammered his
+flint, cocked his piece, and, taking a long aim at Laird Basil, as he was
+called, stood prompt for action.
+
+As soon as Lord Evandale appeared, Olifant’s party spread themselves a
+little, as if preparing to enclose him. Their leader stood fast,
+supported by three men, two of whom were dragoons, the third in dress and
+appearance a countryman, all well armed. But the strong figure, stern
+features, and resolved manner of the third attendant made him seem the
+most formidable of the party; and whoever had before seen him could have
+no difficulty in recognising Balfour of Burley.
+
+“Follow me,” said Lord Evandale to his servants, “and if we are forcibly
+opposed, do as I do.” He advanced at a hand gallop towards Olifant, and
+was in the act of demanding why he had thus beset the road, when Olifant
+called out, “Shoot the traitor!” and the whole four fired their carabines
+upon the unfortunate nobleman. He reeled in the saddle, advanced his
+hand to the holster, and drew a pistol, but, unable to discharge it, fell
+from his horse mortally wounded. His servants had presented their
+carabines. Hunter fired at random; but Halliday, who was an intrepid
+fellow, took aim at Inglis, and shot him dead on the spot. At the same
+instant a shot from behind the hedge still more effectually avenged Lord
+Evandale, for the ball took place in the very midst of Basil Olifant’s
+forehead, and stretched him lifeless on the ground. His followers,
+astonished at the execution done in so short a time, seemed rather
+disposed to stand inactive, when Burley, whose blood was up with the
+contest, exclaimed, “Down with the Midianites!” and attacked Halliday
+sword in hand. At this instant the clatter of horses’ hoofs was heard,
+and a party of horse, rapidly advancing on the road from Glasgow,
+appeared on the fatal field. They were foreign dragoons, led by the Dutch
+commandant Wittenbold, accompanied by Morton and a civil magistrate.
+
+A hasty call to surrender, in the name of God and King William, was
+obeyed by all except Burley, who turned his horse and attempted to
+escape. Several soldiers pursued him by command of their officer, but,
+being well mounted, only the two headmost seemed likely to gain on him.
+He turned deliberately twice, and discharging first one of his pistols,
+and then the other, rid himself of the one pursuer by mortally wounding
+him, and of the other by shooting his horse, and then continued his
+flight to Bothwell Bridge, where, for his misfortune, he found the gates
+shut and guarded. Turning from thence, he made for a place where the
+river seemed passable, and plunged into the stream, the bullets from the
+pistols and carabines of his pursuers whizzing around him. Two balls took
+effect when he was past the middle of the stream, and he felt himself
+dangerously wounded. He reined his horse round in the midst of the river,
+and returned towards the bank he had left, waving his hand, as if with
+the purpose of intimating that he surrendered. The troopers ceased firing
+at him accordingly, and awaited his return, two of them riding a little
+way into the river to seize and disarm him. But it presently appeared
+that his purpose was revenge, not safety. As he approached the two
+soldiers, he collected his remaining strength, and discharged a blow on
+the head of one, which tumbled him from his horse. The other dragoon, a
+strong, muscular man, had in the mean while laid hands on him. Burley, in
+requital, grasped his throat, as a dying tiger seizes his prey, and both,
+losing the saddle in the struggle, came headlong into the river, and were
+swept down the stream. Their course might be traced by the blood which
+bubbled up to the surface. They were twice seen to rise, the Dutchman
+striving to swim, and Burley clinging to him in a manner that showed his
+desire that both should perish. Their corpses were taken out about a
+quarter of a mile down the river. As Balfour’s grasp could not have been
+unclenched without cutting off his hands, both were thrown into a hasty
+grave, still marked by a rude stone and a ruder epitaph.
+
+     [Gentle reader, I did request of mine honest friend Peter Proudfoot,
+     travelling merchant, known to many of this land for his faithful and
+     just dealings, as well in muslins and cambrics as in small wares, to
+     procure me on his next peregrinations to that vicinage, a copy of
+     the Epitaphion alluded to. And, according to his report, which I see
+     no ground to discredit, it runneth thus:--
+
+               Here lyes ane saint to prelates surly,
+               Being John Balfour, sometime of Burley,
+               Who stirred up to vengeance take,
+               For Solemn League and Cov’nant’s sake,
+               Upon the Magus-Moor in Fife,
+               Did tak James Sharpe the apostate’s life;
+               By Dutchman’s hands was hacked and shot,
+               Then drowned in Clyde near this saam spot.]
+
+While the soul of this stern enthusiast flitted to its account, that of
+the brave and generous Lord Evandale was also released. Morton had flung
+himself from his horse upon perceiving his situation, to render his dying
+friend all the aid in his power. He knew him, for he pressed his hand,
+and, being unable to speak, intimated by signs his wish to be conveyed to
+the house. This was done with all the care possible, and he was soon
+surrounded by his lamenting friends. But the clamorous grief of Lady
+Emily was far exceeded in intensity by the silent agony of Edith.
+
+Unconscious even of the presence of Morton, she hung over the dying man;
+nor was she aware that Fate, who was removing one faithful lover, had
+restored another as if from the grave, until Lord Evandale, taking their
+hands in his, pressed them both affectionately, united them together,
+raised his face as if to pray for a blessing on them, and sunk back and
+expired in the next moment.
+
+
+
+
+                               CONCLUSION.
+
+I had determined to waive the task of a concluding chapter, leaving to
+the reader’s imagination the arrangements which must necessarily take
+place after Lord Evandale’s death. But as I was aware that precedents are
+wanting for a practice which might be found convenient both to readers
+and compilers, I confess myself to have been in a considerable dilemma,
+when fortunately I was honoured with an invitation to drink tea with Miss
+Martha Buskbody, a young lady who has carried on the profession of
+mantua-making at Ganderscleugh and in the neighbourhood, with great
+success, for about forty years. Knowing her taste for narratives of this
+description, I requested her to look over the loose sheets the morning
+before I waited on her, and enlighten me by the experience which she must
+have acquired in reading through the whole stock of three circulating
+libraries, in Ganderscleugh and the two next market-towns. When, with a
+palpitating heart, I appeared before her in the evening, I found her much
+disposed to be complimentary.
+
+“I have not been more affected,” said she, wiping the glasses of her
+spectacles, “by any novel, excepting the ‘Tale of Jemmy and Jenny
+Jessamy’, which is indeed pathos itself; but your plan of omitting a
+formal conclusion will never do. You may be as harrowing to our nerves as
+you will in the course of your story, but, unless you had the genius
+of the author of ‘Julia de Roubignd,’ never let the end be altogether
+overclouded. Let us see a glimpse of sunshine in the last chapter; it is
+quite essential.”
+
+“Nothing would be more easy for me, madam, than to comply with your
+injunctions; for, in truth, the parties in whom you have had the goodness
+to be interested, did live long and happily, and begot sons and
+daughters.”
+
+“It is unnecessary, sir,” she said, with a slight nod of reprimand, “to
+be particular concerning their matrimonial comforts. But what is your
+objection to let us have, in a general way, a glimpse of their future
+felicity?”
+
+“Really, madam,” said I, “you must be aware that every volume of a
+narrative turns less and less interesting as the author draws to a
+conclusion,--just like your tea, which, though excellent hyson, is
+necessarily weaker and more insipid in the last cup. Now, as I think the
+one is by no means improved by the luscious lump of half-dissolved sugar
+usually found at the bottom of it, so I am of opinion that a history,
+growing already vapid, is but dully crutched up by a detail of
+circumstances which every reader must have anticipated, even though the
+author exhaust on them every flowery epithet in the language.”
+
+“This will not do, Mr. Pattieson,” continued the lady; “you have, as I
+may say, basted up your first story very hastily and clumsily at the
+conclusion; and, in my trade, I would have cuffed the youngest apprentice
+who had put such a horrid and bungled spot of work out of her hand. And
+if you do not redeem this gross error by telling us all about the
+marriage of Morton and Edith, and what became of the other personages of
+the story, from Lady Margaret down to Goose-Gibbie, I apprise you that
+you will not be held to have accomplished your task handsomely.”
+
+“Well, madam,” I replied, “my materials are so ample that I think I can
+satisfy your curiosity, unless it descend to very minute circumstances
+indeed.”
+
+“First, then,” said she, “for that is most essential,--Did Lady Margaret
+get back her fortune and her castle?”
+
+“She did, madam, and in the easiest way imaginable, as heir, namely, to
+her worthy cousin, Basil Olifant, who died without a will; and thus, by
+his death, not only restored, but even augmented, the fortune of her,
+whom, during his life, he had pursued with the most inveterate malice.
+John Gudyill, reinstated in his dignity, was more important than ever;
+and Cuddie, with rapturous delight, entered upon the cultivation of the
+mains of Tillietudlem, and the occupation of his original cottage. But,
+with the shrewd caution of his character, he was never heard to boast of
+having fired the lucky shot which repossessed his lady and himself in
+their original habitations. ‘After a’,’ he said to Jenny, who was his
+only confidant, ’auld Basil Olifant was my leddy’s cousin and a grand
+gentleman; and though he was acting again the law, as I understand, for
+he ne’er showed ony warrant, or required Lord Evandale to surrender, and
+though I mind killing him nae mair than I wad do a muircock, yet it ’s
+just as weel to keep a calm sough about it.’ He not only did so, but
+ingeniously enough countenanced a report that old Gudyill had done the
+deed,--which was worth many a gill of brandy to him from the old butler,
+who, far different in disposition from Cuddie, was much more inclined to
+exaggerate than suppress his exploits of manhood. The blind widow was
+provided for in the most comfortable manner, as well as the little guide
+to the Linn; and--”
+
+“But what is all this to the marriage,--the marriage of the principal
+personages?” interrupted Miss Buskbody, impatiently tapping her
+snuff-box.
+
+“The marriage of Morton and Miss Bellenden was delayed for several
+months, as both went into deep mourning on account of Lord Evandale’s
+death. They were then wedded.”
+
+“I hope not without Lady Margaret’s consent, sir?” said my fair critic.
+“I love books which teach a proper deference in young persons to their
+parents. In a novel the young people may fall in love without their
+countenance, because it is essential to the necessary intricacy of the
+story; but they must always have the benefit of their consent at last.
+Even old Delville received Cecilia, though the daughter of a man of low
+birth.”
+
+“And even so, madam,” replied I, “Lady Margaret was prevailed on to
+countenance Morton, although the old Covenanter, his father, stuck sorely
+with her for some time. Edith was her only hope, and she wished to see
+her happy; Morton, or Melville Morton, as he was more generally called,
+stood so high in the reputation of the world, and was in every other
+respect such an eligible match, that she put her prejudice aside, and
+consoled herself with the recollection that marriage went by destiny, as
+was observed to her, she said, by his most sacred Majesty, Charles the
+Second of happy memory, when she showed him the portrait of her
+grand-father Fergus, third Earl of Torwood, the handsomest man of his
+time, and that of Countess Jane, his second lady, who had a hump-back
+and only one eye. This was his Majesty’s observation, she said, on one
+remarkable morning when he deigned to take his _disjune_--”
+
+“Nay,” said Miss Buskbody, again interrupting me, “if she brought such
+authority to countenance her acquiescing in a misalliance, there was no
+more to be said.--And what became of old Mrs. What’s her name, the
+housekeeper?”
+
+“Mrs. Wilson, madam?” answered I. “She was perhaps the happiest of the
+party; for once a year, and not oftener, Mr. and Mrs. Melville Morton
+dined in the great wainscotted chamber in solemn state, the hangings
+being all displayed, the carpet laid down, and the huge brass candlestick
+set on the table, stuck round with leaves of laurel. The preparing the
+room for this yearly festival employed her mind for six months before it
+came about, and the putting matters to rights occupied old Alison the
+other six, so that a single day of rejoicing found her business for all
+the year round.”
+
+“And Niel Blane?” said Miss Buskbody.
+
+“Lived to a good old age, drank ale and brandy with guests of all
+persuasions, played Whig or Jacobite tunes as best pleased his customers,
+and died worth as much money as married Jenny to a cock laird. I hope,
+ma’am, you have no other inquiries to make, for really--”
+
+“Goose-Gibbie, sir?” said my persevering friend,--“Goose-Gibbie, whose
+ministry was fraught with such consequences to the personages of the
+narrative?”
+
+“Consider, my dear Miss Buskbody, (I beg pardon for the
+familiarity),--but pray consider, even the memory of the renowned
+Scheherazade, that Empress of Tale-tellers, could not preserve every
+circumstance. I am not quite positive as to the fate of Goose-Gibbie,
+but am inclined to think him the same with one Gilbert Dudden, alias
+Calf-Gibbie, who was whipped through Hamilton for stealing poultry.”
+
+Miss Buskbody now placed her left foot on the fender, crossed her right
+leg over her knee, lay back on the chair, and looked towards the ceiling.
+When I observed her assume this contemplative mood, I concluded she was
+studying some farther cross-examination, and therefore took my hat and
+wished her a hasty good-night, ere the Demon of Criticism had supplied
+her with any more queries. In like manner, gentle Reader, returning you
+my thanks for the patience which has conducted you thus far, I take the
+liberty to withdraw myself from you for the present.
+
+
+
+
+                               PERORATION.
+
+It was mine earnest wish, most courteous Reader, that the “Tales of my
+Landlord” should have reached thine hands in one entire succession of
+tomes, or volumes. But as I sent some few more manuscript quires,
+containing the continuation of these most pleasing narratives, I was
+apprised, somewhat unceremoniously, by my publisher that he did not
+approve of novels (as he injuriously called these real histories)
+extending beyond four volumes, and if I did not agree to the first four
+being published separately, he threatened to decline the article. (Oh,
+ignorance! as if the vernacular article of our mother English were
+capable of declension.) Whereupon, somewhat moved by his remonstrances,
+and more by heavy charges for print and paper, which he stated to have
+been already incurred, I have resolved that these four volumes shall be
+the heralds or avant-couriers of the Tales which are yet in my
+possession, nothing doubting that they will be eagerly devoured, and the
+remainder anxiously demanded, by the unanimous voice of a discerning
+public. I rest, esteemed Reader, thine as thou shalt construe me,
+
+JEDEDIAH CLEISHBOTHAM.
+GANDERCLEUGH, Nov. 15, 1816.
+
+
+[Illustration: Interior of Abbotsford--302]
+
+
+
+
+GLOSSARY.
+
+A’, all.
+A’body, everybody.
+Aboon, abune, above.
+Ae, one.
+Aff, off.
+Afore, before.
+Again, against, until.
+Ahint, behind.
+Ain, own.
+Ajee, awry.
+Amaist, almost.
+Amna, am not.
+An, if, suppose.
+Ane, one.
+Anent, regarding.
+Anes, once.
+Anither, another.
+Arles, earnest money.
+Asteer, in confusion.
+Atweel, aweel, well.
+Aught, own, possessed of; also, eight.
+Auld, old.
+Awa’, away.
+Awe, to owe. “Awe a day in har’st,” to owe a good turn.
+Awsome, awful, terrible.
+
+Bab, a bunch.
+Back-cast, back-stroke.
+Baith, both.
+Bang, to beat.
+Bannock, a scone.
+Bawbee, a halfpenny.
+Beild, shelter.
+Bein, bien, well provided.
+Belive, directly.
+Bide, to wait, to suffer. “Bide a blink,” stay a minute.
+Birky, a lively young fellow.
+Birl, to toss, to drink.
+Bleeze, a blaze; also, to brag, to talk ostentatiously.
+Blithe, happy.
+Blude, bluid, blood.
+Boddle, a small copper coin.
+Branks, a kind of bridle.
+Braw, fine, brave.
+Brawly, cleverly.
+Braws, fine clothes.
+Breeks, breeches.
+Brigg, a bridge.
+Brogue, the Highland shoe.
+Browst, a brewing.
+Budget, a carabine-socket.
+Busk, to deck up.
+“By and out-taken,” over and above and excepting.
+
+Ca’, to call. “Ca’ the pleugh,” to work the plough.
+Canna, cannot. “Canna hear day nor door,” as deaf as a post.
+Canny, quiet, cautious, snug.
+Carcage, a carcass.
+Carena, care not.
+Carline, an old woman, a witch.
+Cast, chance, opportunity, fate.
+“Cast o’ a cart,” chance use of a cart.
+Certie! conscience!
+Change-house, a small inn or alehouse.
+Chield, a fellow.
+Chimley, a chimney.
+Claes, clothes.
+Clatter, tattle.
+“Clinked down,” quartered.
+“Cock laird,” a small land holder who cultivates his estate himself.
+Copleen, to complain.
+Coup, to barter; also, to turn over.
+Crap, the produce of the ground.
+Crowdy, meal and milk mixed in a cold state.
+Cuittle, to wheedle, to curry favour.
+Daft, crazy.
+Daur, to dare.
+Daurna, dare not.
+Deil, the devil. “Deil gin,” the devil may care if.
+Didna, did not.
+Dighting, separating, wiping.
+Ding, to knock.
+Dinna, disna, do not.
+Disjasked-looking, decayed looking.
+Disjune, breakfast.
+Div, do.
+Dooms, very, confoundedly.
+Douce, douse, quiet, sensible.
+Doun, down.
+Dour, stubborn.
+“Dow’d na,” did not like.
+Downa, cannot.
+“Downs bide,” cannot bear, don’t like.
+Drouthy, dry, thirsty.
+Dwam, a swoon.
+
+Ee, an eye.
+Een, eyes.
+E’en, evening; even.
+E’enow, presently, at present.
+Eik, an addition.
+Eneuch, eneugh, enow, enough.
+
+Fa’, fall.
+Fairing “gie him a fairing,” settle him.
+Fallow, a fellow.
+Fand, found.
+Fash, trouble.
+Faured, favoured.
+Feared, afraid.
+Fearsome, frightful.
+Feck, part of a thing.
+Feckless, harmless.
+Fend, to provide.
+Fire-flaught, flash.
+Fizenless, tasteless.
+Flyte, to scold.
+Forby, besides.
+Forgie, forgive.
+Forrit, forward.
+Foumart, a pole-cat.
+Frae, from.
+Fund, found.
+Gae, to go; also, gave.
+Gang, go.
+Ganging, going.
+Gar, to make, to oblige.
+Gat, got.
+Gate, way, mode, direction.
+Gaun, going.
+Gay, gey, very. “Gey thick,” pretty thick.
+Gear, property.
+Gentles, aristocracy.
+Gie, give.
+Gin, if.
+Gledge, a side-glance.
+Gomeril, a fool, a simpleton.
+Gowd, gold.
+Gowpen, a handful.
+Grewsome, sullen, stern, forbidding.
+Gude, God; good.
+Gudeman, a husband; head of the household.
+Gude-sister, a sister-in-law.
+Gudewife, a wife, a spouse.
+Guide, to manage.
+
+Ha’arst, harvest.
+Hae, have.
+Haena, have not.
+“Hae ’t,” have it.
+Haill, whole.
+Hantle, a great deal.
+Harry, to rob, to break in upon.
+Hash, a clumsy lout.
+Hand, to hold, to have.
+Hauld, a habitation.
+Hempie, giddy.
+Heugh, a dell; also, a crag.
+Hinny, a term of endearment=honey.
+Holme, a hollow, level low ground.
+“Horse of wood, foaled of an acorn,” a form of punishment.
+Howf, a retreat.
+Hunder, a hundred.
+Hup! used to a horse in order to make him quicken his pace.
+“Hup nor wind,” quite unmanageable.
+Hurdies, the buttocks.
+
+Ilk, ilka, each, every.
+Ill-fard, ill-favoured.
+Ill-guide, to ill-treat.
+I’ se, I shall.
+Isna, is not.
+
+Jalouse, to suspect.
+Jimply, barely, scantily.
+Jo, joe, a sweetheart.
+“John Thomson’s man,” a husband who yields to the influence of his wife.
+Justify, to punish with death.
+
+Kail, kale, cabbage greens; broth. “Kail through the reek,” to give one a
+     severe reproof.
+Kail-brose, pottage of meal made with the scum of broth.
+Kale-yard, a vegetable garden.
+Ken, to know.
+Kend, knew.
+Kenna, kensna, know not.
+Kittle, ticklish.
+Kye, kine.
+
+Lane, lone, alone. By a peculiar idiom in the Scotch this is frequently
+     conjoined with the pronoun: as, “his lane,” “my lane,” “their lane,”
+      i. e., “by himself,” “by myself,” “by themselves.”
+ “Lang ten,” the ten of trumps in Scotch whist.
+Lassie, lassock, a little girl.
+Lave, the remainder.
+Leatherin’, beating, drubbing.
+Letten, allowed.
+Lift, to carry off by theft.
+Linn, a cataract.
+Lippie, the fourth part of a peck.
+Loon, a fellow.
+Loot, looten, let, allowed.
+Lound, quiet.
+Loup, to leap.
+Lug, the ear.
+
+Mains, demesne.
+Mair, more.
+Maist, most.
+Mart, a fatted cow.
+Mann, must.
+Maunder, palaver.
+Maut, malt.
+Mensfu’, modest, mindful.
+Mickle, much.
+Mind, to remember.
+Mirligoes, dizziness.
+Mislear’d, unmannerly.
+Mistaen, mistaken.
+Many, many.
+“Morn, the,” to-morrow.
+Muckle, much.
+Muir, a moor.
+
+Na, no, not.
+Naething, nothing.
+Naig, a nag.
+Neb, the nose, the beak.
+Neist, next.
+Neuk, a nook, a corner.
+
+Onstead, a farm-steading.
+Ony, any.
+Or, before.
+“Ordinar, by,” in an uncommon way.
+O ’t, of it.
+Outshot, a projection in a building.
+Out-taken, excepting.
+Ower, over.
+
+Peat-hag, a hollow in moss left after digging peats.
+Penny-fee, wages.
+Dinners, a cap with lappets, formerly worn by women of rank.
+Pit, to put.
+Pleugh, plough.
+Pleugh-paidle, a plough-staff.
+Pockmantle, a portmanteau.
+Pose, deposit.
+Puir, poor.
+Putten, put. “Putten up,” provided for.
+Quean, a flirt, a young woman.
+
+Rade, rode.
+Randy, a scold.
+Raploch, coarse, undyed homespun.
+Rase, rose.
+Rax, to stretch, to reach.
+Redd, to clear up.
+Reek, smoke.
+Rin, to run.
+Ripe, to rake, to search.
+Rue “to take the rue,” to repent of a proposal or bargain.
+Rugging, pulling roughly.
+
+Sae, so.
+“St. Johnstone’s tippet,” a halter for execution.
+Sair, sore.
+“Sair travailed,” worn out, wearied.
+Sark, a shirt.
+Sauld, sold.
+Set, to suit, to become one; also, to beset.
+Shaw, a wood; flat ground at the foot of a hill.
+Shune, shoes.
+Sic, such.
+Siller, money.
+Skeily, skilful.
+Skellie, to squint.
+Skirl, to scream.
+Sort, to arrange, to supply.
+Sort, a term applied to persons or things when the number is small.
+Sough, a sigh, a breath. “Calm sough,” an easy mind, a still tongue.
+“Sough’d awa,” died gently.
+Soup, “a bite and a soup,” slender support, both as to meat and drink.
+Sowens, a sort of gruel.
+Spak, spoke.
+Speer, to inquire, to ask.
+Spunk, fire, activity, spirit.
+Stamach, stomach.
+Steer, to disturb.
+Stir, sir.
+Stot, a bullock.
+Stour, a battle, a fight.
+Strae, straw.
+Stressed, distressed, inconvenienced.
+Stude, hesitated.
+Sud, suld, should.
+Sune, soon. “Sune as syne,” soon as late.
+Sybo, an onion or radish.
+Syke, a streamlet dry in summer.
+Syne, since, afterwards.
+
+Tae, tane, the one.
+Ta’en, taken.
+“Tak on,” to engage.
+Tauld, told.
+Tent, care.
+Teugh, tough.
+“Thack and rape,” snug and comfortable.
+Thae, these, those.
+Thegither, together.
+Threep, to aver strongly.
+Till, to.
+“Till ’t,” to it.
+“Tippet, St. Johnstone’s,” a halter for execution.
+Tirl, to uncover, to strip.
+Tittie, a sister.
+Tother, the other.
+Toy, a close linen cap.
+Troth! sure!
+Trow, to believe, to think, to guess.
+Trysted, overtaken.
+
+Unco, very, particularly, prodigious, terrible; also, strange.
+
+Vivers, victuals.
+
+Wad, would.
+Wadna, would not.
+Wallie, a valet.
+Walth, plenty, abundance.
+Wan, got, reached.
+Waur, worse.
+Wee, little.
+Weel, well.
+We’se, we shall.
+Wha, whae, who.
+Whase, whose.
+“What for,” why.
+Wheen, a few.
+Whiles, sometimes.
+Wi’, with.
+Win, to get. “To win by,” to escape.
+“To win ower,” to get over.
+Winna, will not.
+Winnock, a window.
+Wotna, know not.
+Wud, mad.
+Wull, will.
+“What’s yer wull?” what is your pleasure?
+
+Yerl, earl.
+Yestate, estate.
+Yokit.
+yoked.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD MORTALITY ***
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