Walter Scott
St. Valentine's Day
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Table of contents
INTRODUCTORY.
PREFACE.
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CHAPTER XXIV.
CHAPTER XXV.
CHAPTER XXVI.
CHAPTER XXVII.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
CHAPTER XXIX.
CHAPTER XXX.
CHAPTER XXXI.
CHAPTER XXXII.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
CHAPTER XXXV.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
INTRODUCTORY.
The
ashes here of murder'd kings Beneath my footsteps sleep; And yonder
lies the scene of death, Where Mary learn'd to weep.CAPTAIN
MARJORIBANKS.Every
quarter of Edinburgh has its own peculiar boast, so that the city
together combines within its precincts, if you take the word of the
inhabitants on the subject, as much of historical interest as of
natural beauty. Our claims in behalf of the Canongate are not the
slightest. The Castle may excel us in extent of prospect and
sublimity of site; the Calton had always the superiority of its
unrivalled panorama, and has of late added that of its towers, and
triumphal arches, and the pillars of its Parthenon. The High Street,
we acknowledge, had the distinguished honour of being defended by
fortifications, of which we can show no vestiges. We will not descend
to notice the claims of more upstart districts, called Old New Town
and New New Town, not to mention the favourite Moray Place, which is
the Newest New Town of all. We will not match ourselves except with
our equals, and with our equals in age only, for in dignity we admit
of one. We boast being the court end of the town, possessing the
Palace and the sepulchral remains of monarchs, and that we have the
power to excite, in a degree unknown to the less honoured quarters of
the city, the dark and solemn recollections of ancient grandeur,
which occupied the precincts of our venerable Abbey from the time of
St. David till her deserted halls were once more made glad, and her
long silent echoes awakened, by the visit of our present gracious
sovereign.My
long habitation in the neighbourhood, and the quiet respectability of
my habits, have given me a sort of intimacy with good Mrs. Policy,
the housekeeper in that most interesting part of the old building
called Queen Mary's Apartments. But a circumstance which lately
happened has conferred upon me greater privileges; so that, indeed, I
might, I believe, venture on the exploit of Chatelet, who was
executed for being found secreted at midnight in the very bedchamber
of Scotland's mistress.It
chanced that the good lady I have mentioned was, in the discharge of
her function, showing the apartments to a cockney from London—not
one of your quiet, dull, commonplace visitors, who gape, yawn, and
listen with an acquiescent "umph" to the information doled
out by the provincial cicerone. No such thing: this was the brisk,
alert agent of a great house in the city, who missed no opportunity
of doing business, as he termed it—that is, of putting off the
goods of his employers, and improving his own account of commission.
He had fidgeted through the suite of apartments, without finding the
least opportunity to touch upon that which he considered as the
principal end of his existence. Even the story of Rizzio's
assassination presented no ideas to this emissary of commerce, until
the housekeeper appealed, in support of her narrative, to the dusky
stains of blood upon the floor."These
are the stains," she said; "nothing will remove them from
the place: there they have been for two hundred and fifty years, and
there they will remain while the floor is left standing—neither
water nor anything else will ever remove them from that spot."Now
our cockney, amongst other articles, sold Scouring Drops, as they are
called, and a stain of two hundred and fifty years' standing was
interesting to him, not because it had been caused by the blood of a
queen's favourite, slain in her apartment, but because it offered so
admirable an opportunity to prove the efficacy of his unequalled
Detergent Elixir. Down on his knees went our friend, but neither in
horror nor devotion."Two
hundred and fifty years, ma'am, and nothing take it away? Why, if it
had been five hundred, I have something in my pocket will fetch it
out in five minutes. D'ye see this elixir, ma'am? I will show you the
stain vanish in a moment."Accordingly,
wetting one end of his handkerchief with the all deterging specific,
he began to rub away on the planks, without heeding the remonstrances
of Mrs. Policy. She, good soul, stood at first in astonishment, like
the abbess of St. Bridget's, when a profane visitant drank up the
vial of brandy which had long passed muster among the relics of the
cloister for the tears of the blessed saint. The venerable guardian
of St. Bridget probably expected the interference of her
patroness—she of Holyrood might, perhaps, hope that David Ruzzio's
spectre would arise to prevent the profanation. But Mrs. Policy stood
not long in the silence of horror. She uplifted her voice, and
screamed as loudly as Queen Mary herself when the dreadful deed was
in the act of perpetration—"Harrow,
now out, and walawa!" she cried.I
happened to be taking my morning walk in the adjoining gallery,
pondering in my mind why the kings of Scotland, who hung around me,
should be each and every one painted with a nose like the knocker of
a door, when lo! the walls once more re-echoed with such shrieks as
formerly were as often heard in the Scottish palaces as were sounds
of revelry and music. Somewhat surprised at such an alarm in a place
so solitary, I hastened to the spot, and found the well meaning
traveller scrubbing the floor like a housemaid, while Mrs. Policy,
dragging him by the skirts of the coat, in vain endeavoured to divert
him from his sacrilegious purpose. It cost me some trouble to explain
to the zealous purifier of silk stockings, embroidered waistcoats,
broadcloth, and deal planks that there were such things in the world
as stains which ought to remain indelible, on account of the
associations with which they are connected. Our good friend viewed
everything of the kind only as the means of displaying the virtue of
his vaunted commodity. He comprehended, however, that he would not be
permitted to proceed to exemplify its powers on the present occasion,
as two or three inhabitants appeared, who, like me, threatened to
maintain the housekeeper's side of the question. He therefore took
his leave, muttering that he had always heard the Scots were a nasty
people, but had no idea they carried it so far as to choose to have
the floors of their palaces blood boltered, like Banquo's ghost, when
to remove them would have cost but a hundred drops of the Infallible
Detergent Elixir, prepared and sold by Messrs. Scrub and Rub, in five
shilling and ten shilling bottles, each bottle being marked with the
initials of the inventor, to counterfeit which would be to incur the
pains of forgery.Freed
from the odious presence of this lover of cleanliness, my good friend
Mrs. Policy was profuse in her expressions of thanks; and yet her
gratitude, instead of exhausting itself in these declarations,
according to the way of the world, continues as lively at this moment
as if she had never thanked me at all. It is owing to her
recollection of this piece of good service that I have the permission
of wandering, like the ghost of some departed gentleman usher,
through these deserted halls, sometimes, as the old Irish ditty
expresses it—Thinking
upon things that are long enough ago;—and sometimes wishing I
could, with the good luck of most editors of romantic narrative,
light upon some hidden crypt or massive antique cabinet, which should
yield to my researches an almost illegible manuscript, containing the
authentic particulars of some of the strange deeds of those wild days
of the unhappy Mary.My
dear Mrs. Baliol used to sympathise with me when I regretted that all
godsends of this nature had ceased to occur, and that an author might
chatter his teeth to pieces by the seaside without a wave ever
wafting to him a casket containing such a history as that of
Automates; that he might break his shins in stumbling through a
hundred vaults without finding anything but rats and mice; and become
the tenant of a dozen sets of shabby tenements without finding that
they contained any manuscript but the weekly bill for board and
lodging. A dairymaid of these degenerate days might as well wash and
deck her dairy in hopes of finding the fairy tester in her shoe."It
is a sad and too true a tale, cousin," said Mrs. Baliol, "I
am sure we all have occasion to regret the want of these ready
supplements to a failing invention. But you, most of all, have right
to complain that the fairest have not favoured your researches—you,
who have shown the world that the age of chivalry still exists—you,
the knight of Croftangry, who braved the fury of the 'London
'prentice bold,' in behalf of the fair Dame Policy, and the memorial
of Rizzio's slaughter! Is it not a pity, cousin, considering the feat
of chivalry was otherwise so much according to rule—is it not, I
say, a great pity that the lady had not been a little younger, and
the legend a little older?""Why,
as to the age at which a fair dame loses the benefit of chivalry, and
is no longer entitled to crave boon of brave knight, that I leave to
the statutes of the Order of Errantry; but for the blood of Rizzio I
take up the gauntlet, and maintain against all and sundry that I hold
the stains to be of no modern date, but to have been actually the
consequence and the record of that terrible assassination.""As
I cannot accept the challenge to the field, fair cousin, I am
contented to require proof.""The
unaltered tradition of the Palace, and the correspondence of the
existing state of things with that tradition.""Explain,
if you please.""I
will. The universal tradition bears that, when Rizzio was dragged out
of the chamber of the Queen, the heat and fury of the assassins, who
struggled which should deal him most wounds, despatched him at the
door of the anteroom. At the door of the apartment, therefore, the
greater quantity of the ill fated minion's blood was spilled, and
there the marks of it are still shown. It is reported further by
historians, that Mary continued her entreaties for his life, mingling
her prayers with screams and exclamations, until she knew that he was
assuredly slain; on which she wiped her eyes and said, 'I will now
study revenge.'""All
this is granted. But the blood—would it not wash out, or waste out,
think you, in so many years?""I
am coming to that presently. The constant tradition of the Palace
says, that Mary discharged any measures to be taken to remove the
marks of slaughter, which she had resolved should remain as a
memorial to quicken and confirm her purposed vengeance. But it is
added that, satisfied with the knowledge that it existed, and not
desirous to have the ghastly evidence always under her eye, she
caused a traverse, as it is called (that is, a temporary screen of
boards), to be drawn along the under part of the anteroom, a few feet
from the door, so as to separate the place stained with the blood
from the rest of the apartment, and involve it in considerable
obscurity. Now this temporary partition still exists, and, by running
across and interrupting the plan of the roof and cornices, plainly
intimates that it has been intended to serve some temporary purpose,
since it disfigures the proportions of the room, interferes with the
ornaments of the ceiling, and could only have been put there for some
such purpose as hiding an object too disagreeable to be looked upon.
As to the objection that the bloodstains would have disappeared in
course of time, I apprehend that, if measures to efface them were not
taken immediately after the affair happened—if the blood, in other
words, were allowed to sink into the wood, the stain would become
almost indelible. Now, not to mention that our Scottish palaces were
not particularly well washed in those days, and that there were no
Patent Drops to assist the labours of the mop, I think it very
probable that these dark relics might subsist for a long course of
time, even if Mary had not desired or directed that they should be
preserved, but screened by the traverse from public sight. I know
several instances of similar bloodstains remaining for a great many
years, and I doubt whether, after a certain time, anything can remove
them save the carpenter's plane. If any seneschal, by way of
increasing the interest of the apartments, had, by means of paint, or
any other mode of imitation, endeavoured to palm upon posterity
supposititious stigmata, I conceive that the impostor would have
chosen the Queen's cabinet and the bedroom for the scene of his
trick, placing his bloody tracery where it could be distinctly seen
by visitors, instead of hiding it behind the traverse in this manner.
The existence of the said traverse, or temporary partition, is also
extremely difficult to be accounted for, if the common and ordinary
tradition be rejected. In short, all the rest of this striking
locality is so true to the historical fact, that I think it may well
bear out the additional circumstance of the blood on the floor.""I
profess to you," answered Mrs. Baliol, "that I am very
willing to be converted to your faith. We talk of a credulous vulgar,
without always recollecting that there is a vulgar incredulity,
which, in historical matters as well as in those of religion, finds
it easier to doubt than to examine, and endeavours to assume the
credit of an esprit fort, by denying whatever happens to be a little
beyond the very limited comprehension of the sceptic. And so, that
point being settled, and you possessing, as we understand, the open
sesamum into these secret apartments, how, if we may ask, do you
intend to avail yourself of your privilege? Do you propose to pass
the night in the royal bedchamber?""For
what purpose, my dear lady? If to improve the rheumatism, this east
wind may serve the purpose.""Improve
the rheumatism! Heaven forbid! that would be worse than adding
colours to the violet. No, I mean to recommend a night on the couch
of the nose of Scotland, merely to improve the imagination. Who knows
what dreams might be produced by a night spent in a mansion of so
many memories! For aught I know, the iron door of the postern stair
might open at the dead hour of midnight, and, as at the time of the
conspiracy, forth might sally the phantom assassins, with stealthy
step and ghastly look, to renew the semblance of the deed. There
comes the fierce fanatic Ruthven, party hatred enabling him to bear
the armour which would otherwise weigh down a form extenuated by
wasting disease. See how his writhen features show under the hollow
helmet, like those of a corpse tenanted by a demon, whose vindictive
purpose looks out at the flashing eyes, while the visage has the
stillness of death. Yonder appears the tall form of the boy Darnley,
as goodly in person as vacillating in resolution; yonder he advances
with hesitating step, and yet more hesitating purpose, his childish
fear having already overcome his childish passion. He is in the
plight of a mischievous lad who has fired a mine, and who now,
expecting the explosion in remorse and terror, would give his life to
quench the train which his own hand lighted. Yonder—yonder—But I
forget the rest of the worthy cutthroats. Help me if you can.""Summon
up," said I, "the postulate, George Douglas, the most
active of the gang. Let him arise at your call—the claimant of
wealth which he does not possess, the partaker of the illustrious
blood of Douglas, but which in his veins is sullied with
illegitimacy. Paint him the ruthless, the daring, the ambitious—so
nigh greatness, yet debarred from it; so near to wealth, yet excluded
from possessing it; a political Tantalus, ready to do or dare
anything to terminate his necessities and assert his imperfect
claims.""Admirable,
my dear Croftangry! But what is a postulate?""Pooh,
my dear madam, you disturb the current of my ideas. The postulate
was, in Scottish phrase, the candidate for some benefice which he had
not yet attained. George Douglas, who stabbed Rizzio, was the
postulate for the temporal possessions of the rich abbey of
Arbroath.""I
stand informed. Come, proceed; who comes next?" continued Mrs.
Baliol."Who
comes next? Yon tall, thin made, savage looking man, with the
petronel in his hand, must be Andrew Ker of Faldonside, a brother's
son, I believe, of the celebrated Sir David Ker of Cessford; his look
and bearing those of a Border freebooter, his disposition so savage
that, during the fray in the cabinet, he presented his loaded piece
at the bosom of the young and beautiful Queen, that queen also being
within a few weeks of becoming a mother.""Brave,
beau cousin! Well, having raised your bevy of phantoms, I hope you do
not intend to send them back to their cold beds to warm them? You
will put them to some action, and since you do threaten the Canongate
with your desperate quill, you surely mean to novelise, or to
dramatise, if you will, this most singular of all tragedies?""Worse—that
is less interesting—periods of history have been, indeed, shown up,
for furnishing amusement to the peaceable ages which, have succeeded
but, dear lady, the events are too well known in Mary's days to be
used as vehicles of romantic fiction. What can a better writer than
myself add to the elegant and forcible narrative of Robertson? So
adieu to my vision. I awake, like John Bunyan, 'and behold it is a
dream.' Well enough that I awake without a sciatica, which would have
probably rewarded my slumbers had I profaned Queen Mary's bed by
using it as a mechanical resource to awaken a torpid imagination.""This
will never do, cousin," answered Mrs. Baliol; "you must get
over all these scruples, if you would thrive in the character of a
romantic historian, which you have determined to embrace. What is the
classic Robertson to you? The light which he carried was that of a
lamp to illuminate the dark events of antiquity; yours is a magic
lantern to raise up wonders which never existed. No reader of sense
wonders at your historical inaccuracies, any more than he does to see
Punch in the show box seated on the same throne with King Solomon in
his glory, or to hear him hallooing out to the patriarch, amid the
deluge, 'Mighty hazy weather, Master Noah.'""Do
not mistake me, my dear madam," said I; "I am quite
conscious of my own immunities as a tale teller. But even the
mendacious Mr. Fag, in Sheridan's Rivals, assures us that, though he
never scruples to tell a lie at his master's command, yet it hurts
his conscience to be found out. Now, this is the reason why I avoid
in prudence all well known paths of history, where every one can read
the finger posts carefully set up to advise them of the right
turning; and the very boys and girls, who learn the history of
Britain by way of question and answer, hoot at a poor author if he
abandons the highway.""Do
not be discouraged, however, cousin Chrystal. There are plenty of
wildernesses in Scottish history, through which, unless I am greatly
misinformed, no certain paths have been laid down from actual survey,
but which are only described by imperfect tradition, which fills up
with wonders and with legends the periods in which no real events are
recognised to have taken place. Even thus, as Mat Prior says:"Geographers
on pathless downs Place elephants instead of towns.""If
such be your advice, my dear lady," said I, "the course of
my story shall take its rise upon this occasion at a remote period of
history, and in a province removed from my natural sphere of the
Canongate."It
was under the influence of those feelings that I undertook the
following historical romance, which, often suspended and flung aside,
is now arrived at a size too important to be altogether thrown away,
although there may be little prudence in sending it to the press.I
have not placed in the mouth of the characters the Lowland Scotch
dialect now spoken, because unquestionably the Scottish of that day
resembled very closely the Anglo Saxon, with a sprinkling of French
or Norman to enrich it. Those who wish to investigate the subject may
consult the Chronicles of Winton and the History of Bruce by
Archdeacon Barbour. But supposing my own skill in the ancient
Scottish were sufficient to invest the dialogue with its
peculiarities, a translation must have been necessary for the benefit
of the general reader. The Scottish dialect may be therefore
considered as laid aside, unless where the use of peculiar words may
add emphasis or vivacity to the composition.
PREFACE.
In
continuing the lucubrations of Chrystal Croftangry, it occurred that,
although the press had of late years teemed with works of various
descriptions concerning the Scottish Gad, no attempt had hitherto
been made to sketch their manners, as these might be supposed to have
existed at the period when the statute book, as well as the page of
the chronicler, begins to present constant evidence of the
difficulties to which the crown was exposed, while the haughty house
of Douglas all but overbalanced its authority on the Southern border,
and the North was at the same time torn in pieces by the yet untamed
savageness of the Highland races, and the daring loftiness to which
some of the remoter chieftains still carried their pretensions.The
well authenticated fact of two powerful clans having deputed each
thirty champions to fight out a quarrel of old standing, in presence
of King Robert III, his brother the Duke of Albany, and the whole
court of Scotland, at Perth, in the year of grace 1396, seemed to
mark with equal distinctness the rancour of these mountain feuds and
the degraded condition of the general government of the country; and
it was fixed upon accordingly as the point on which the main
incidents of a romantic narrative might be made to hinge. The
characters of Robert III, his ambitious brother, and his dissolute
son seemed to offer some opportunities of interesting contrast; and
the tragic fate of the heir of the throne, with its immediate
consequences, might serve to complete the picture of cruelty and
lawlessness.Two
features of the story of this barrier battle on the Inch of Perth—the
flight of one of the appointed champions, and the reckless heroism of
a townsman, that voluntarily offered for a small piece of coin to
supply his place in the mortal encounter—suggested the imaginary
persons, on whom much of the novel is expended. The fugitive Celt
might have been easily dealt with, had a ludicrous style of colouring
been adopted; but it appeared to the Author that there would be more
of novelty, as well as of serious interest, if he could succeed in
gaining for him something of that sympathy which is incompatible with
the total absence of respect. Miss Baillie had drawn a coward by
nature capable of acting as a hero under the strong impulse of filial
affection. It seemed not impossible to conceive the case of one
constitutionally weak of nerve being supported by feelings of honour
and of jealousy up to a certain point, and then suddenly giving way,
under circumstances to which the bravest heart could hardly refuse
compassion.The
controversy as to who really were the clans that figured in the
barbarous conflict of the Inch has been revived since the publication
of the Fair Maid of Perth, and treated in particular at great length
by Mr. Robert Mackay of Thurso, in his very curious History of the
House and Clan of Mackay. Without pretending to say that he has
settled any part of the question in the affirmative, this gentleman
certainly seems to have quite succeeded in proving that his own
worthy sept had no part in the transaction. The Mackays were in that
age seated, as they have since continued to be, in the extreme north
of the island; and their chief at the time was a personage of such
importance, that his name and proper designation could not have been
omitted in the early narratives of the occurrence. He on one occasion
brought four thousand of his clan to the aid of the royal banner
against the Lord of the Isles. This historian is of opinion that the
Clan Quhele of Wyntoun were the Camerons, who appear to have about
that period been often designated as Macewans, and to have gained
much more recently the name of Cameron, i.e. Wrynose, from a blemish
in the physiognomy of some heroic chief of the line of Lochiel. This
view of the case is also adopted by Douglas in his Baronage, where he
frequently mentions the bitter feuds between Clan Chattan and Clan
Kay, and identifies the latter sept in reference to the events of
1396, with the Camerons. It is perhaps impossible to clear up
thoroughly this controversy, little interesting in itself, at least
to readers on this side of Inverness. The names, as we have them in
Wyntoun, are "Clanwhewyl" and "Clachinya," the
latter probably not correctly transcribed. In the Scoti Chronicon
they are "Clanquhele" and "Clankay. Hector Boece
writes Clanchattan" and "Clankay," in which he is
followed by Leslie while Buchanan disdains to disfigure his page with
their Gaelic designations at all, and merely describes them as two
powerful races in the wild and lawless region beyond the Grampians.
Out of this jumble what Sassenach can pretend dare lucem? The name
Clanwheill appears so late as 1594, in an Act of James VI. Is it not
possible that it may be, after all, a mere corruption of Clan
Lochiel?The
reader may not be displeased to have Wyntoun's original rhymes [bk.
ix. chap. xvii.]:A
thousand and thre hundyr yere,
Nynty and sex to mak all clere—
Of thre scor wyld Scottis men,
Thretty agane thretty then,
In felny bolnit of auld fed,
[Boiled with the cruelty of an old feud]
As thare forelderis ware slane to dede.
Tha thre score ware clannys twa,
Clahynnhe Qwhewyl and Clachinyha;
Of thir twa kynnis ware tha men,
Thretty agane thretty then;
And thare thai had than chiftanys twa,
Scha Ferqwharis' son wes ane of tha,
The tother Cristy Johnesone.
A selcouth thing be tha was done.
At Sanct Johnestone besid the Freris,
All thai entrit in barreris
Wyth bow and ax, knyf and swerd,
To deil amang thaim thare last werd.
Thare thai laid on that time sa fast,
Quha had the ware thare at the last
I will noucht say; hot quha best had,
He wes but dout bathe muth and mad.
Fifty or ma ware slane that day,
Sua few wyth lif than past away.The
prior of Lochleven makes no mention either of the evasion of one of
the Gaelic champions, or of the gallantry of the Perth artisan, in
offering to take a share in the conflict. Both incidents, however,
were introduced, no doubt from tradition, by the Continuator of
Fordun [Bower], whose narrative is in these words:Anno
Dom. millesimo trecentesimo nonagesimo sexto, magna pars borealis
Scotiae, trans Alpes, inquietata fuit per duos pestiferos Cateranos,
et eorum sequaces, viz. Scheabeg et suos consanguinarios, qui
Clankay, et Cristi Jonsonem ac suos, qui Clanqwhele dicebantur; qui
nullo pacto vel tractatu pacificari poterant, nullaque arte regis vel
gubernatoris poterant edomari, quoadusque nobilis et industriosus
Dominus David de Lindesay de Crawford, at Dominus Thomas comes
Moraviae, diligentiam et vires apposuerunt, ac inter partes sic
tractaverunt, ut coram domino rege certo die convenirent apud Perth,
et alterutra pars eligeret de progenie sua triginta personas adversus
triginta de parte contraria, cum gladiis tantum, et arcubus et
sagittis, absque deploidibus, vel armaturis aliis, praeter bipennes;
et sic congredientes finem liti ponerant, et terra pace potiretur.
Utrique igitur parti summe placuit contractus, et die lunae proximo
ante festum Sancti Michaelis, apud North insulam de Perth, coram rege
et gubernatore et innumerabili multitudine comparentes, conflictum
acerrimum inierunt; ubi de sexaginta interfecti sunt omnes, excepto
uno ex parte Clankay et undecim exceptis ex parte altera. Hoc etiam
ibi accidit, quod omnes in procinctu belli constituti, unus eorum
locum diffugii considerans, inter omnes in amnem elabitur, et aquam
de Thaya natando transgreditur; a millenis insequitur, sed nusquam
apprehenditur. Stant igitur partes attonitae, tanquam non ad
conflictum progressuri, ob defectum evasi: noluit enim pars integrum
habens numerum sociorum consentire, ut unus de suis demeretur; nec
potuit pars altera quocumque pretio alterum ad supplendum vicem
fugientis inducere. Stupent igitur omnes haerentes, de damno fugitivi
conquerentes. Et cum totum illud opus cessare putaretur, ecce in
medio prorupit unus stipulosus vernaculus, statura modicus, sed
efferus, dicens: Ecce ego! quis me conducet intrare cum operariis
istis ad hunc ludum theatralem? Pro dimidia enim marca ludum
experiar, ultra hoc petens, ut si vivus de palaestra evasero, victum
a quocumque vestrum recipiam dum vixero: quia, sicut dicitur,
"Majorem caritatem nemo habet, quam ut animam suam ponat suis
pro amicis." Quali mercede donabor, qui animam meam pro inimicis
reipublicae et regni pono? Quod petiit, a rege et diversis magnatibus
conceditur. Cum hoc arcus ejus extenditur, et primo sagittam in
partem contrariam transmittit, et unum interficit. Confestim hinc
inde sagittae volitant, bipennes librant, gladios vibrant, alterutro
certant, et veluti carnifices boves in macello, sic inconsternate ad
invicem se trucidant. Sed nec inter tantos repertus est vel unus,
qui, tanquam vecors ant timidus, sive post tergum alterius declinans,
seipsum a tanta caede praetendit excusare. Iste tamen tyro
superveniens finaliter illaesus exivit; et dehinc multo tempore
Boreas quievit, nec ibidem fuit, ut supra, cateranorum excursus.The
scene is heightened with many florid additions by Boece and Leslie,
and the contending savages in Buchanan utter speeches after the most
approved pattern of Livy.The
devotion of the young chief of Clan Quhele's foster father and foster
brethren in the novel is a trait of clannish fidelity, of which
Highland story furnishes many examples. In the battle of
Inverkeithing, between the Royalists and Oliver Cromwell's troops, a
foster father and seven brave sons are known to have thus sacrificed
themselves for Sir Hector Maclean of Duart; the old man, whenever one
of his boys fell, thrusting forward another to fill his place at the
right hand of the beloved chief, with the very words adopted in the
novel, "Another for Hector!"Nay,
the feeling could outlive generations. The late much lamented General
Stewart of Garth, in his account of the battle of Killiecrankie,
informs us that Lochiel was attended on the field by the son of his
foster brother."This
faithful adherent followed him like his shadow, ready to assist him
with his sword, or cover him from the shot of the enemy. Suddenly the
chief missed his friend from his side, and, turning round to look
what had become of him, saw him lying on his back with his breast
pierced by an arrow. He had hardly breath, before he expired, to tell
Lochiel that, seeing an enemy, a Highlander in General Mackay's army,
aiming at him with a bow and arrow, he sprung behind him, and thus
sheltered him from instant death. This" observes the gallant
David Stewart, "is a species of duty not often practised,
perhaps, by our aide de camps of the present day."—Sketches of
the Highlanders, vol. i. p. 65.I
have only to add, that the Second Series of Chronicles of the
Canongate, with the chapter introductory which precedes, appeared in
May, 1828, and had a favourable reception.
CHAPTER I.
"Behold
the Tiber," the vain Roman cried,
Viewing the ample Tay from Baiglie's side;
But where's the Scot that would the vaunt repay,
And hail the puny Tiber for the Tay?
Anonymous.
Among
all the provinces in Scotland, if an intelligent stranger were asked
to describe the most varied and the most beautiful, it is probable he
would name the county of Perth. A native also of any other district
of Caledonia, though his partialities might lead him to prefer his
native county in the first instance, would certainly class that of
Perth in the second, and thus give its inhabitants a fair right to
plead that, prejudice apart, Perthshire forms the fairest portion of
the Northern kingdom. It is long since Lady Mary Wortley Montagu,
with that excellent taste which characterises her writings, expressed
her opinion that the most interesting district of every country, and
that which exhibits the varied beauties of natural scenery in
greatest perfection, is that where the mountains sink down upon the
champaign, or more level land. The most picturesque, if not the
highest, hills are also to be found in the county of Perth. The
rivers find their way out of the mountainous region by the wildest
leaps, and through the most romantic passes connecting the Highlands
with the Lowlands. Above, the vegetation of a happier climate and
soil is mingled with the magnificent characteristics of mountain
scenery, and woods, groves, and thickets in profusion clothe the base
of the hills, ascend up the ravines, and mingle with the precipices.
It is in such favoured regions that the traveller finds what the poet
Gray, or some one else, has termed beauty lying in the lap of terror.
From
the same advantage of situation, this favoured province presents a
variety of the most pleasing character. Its lakes, woods, and
mountains may vie in beauty with any that the Highland tour exhibits;
while Perthshire contains, amidst this romantic scenery, and in some
places in connexion with it, many fertile and habitable tracts, which
may vie with the richness of merry England herself. The county has
also been the scene of many remarkable exploits and events, some of
historical importance, others interesting to the poet and romancer,
though recorded in popular tradition alone. It was in these vales
that the Saxons of the plain and the Gad of the mountains had many a
desperate and bloody encounter, in which it was frequently impossible
to decide the palm of victory between the mailed chivalry of the low
country and the plaided clans whom they opposed.
Perth,
so eminent for the beauty of its situation, is a place of great
antiquity; and old tradition assigns to the town the importance of a
Roman foundation. That victorious nation, it is said, pretended to
recognise the Tiber in the much more magnificent and navigable Tay,
and to acknowledge the large level space, well known by the name of
the North Inch, as having a near resemblance to their Campus Martins.
The city was often the residence of our monarchs, who, although they
had no palace at Perth, found the Cistercian convent amply sufficient
for the reception of their court. It was here that James the First,
one of the wisest and best of the Scottish kings, fell a victim to
the jealousy of the vengeful aristocracy. Here also occurred the
mysterious conspiracy of Gowrie, the scene of which has only of late
been effaced by the destruction of the ancient palace in which the
tragedy was acted. The Antiquarian Society of Perth, with just zeal
for the objects of their pursuit, have published an accurate plan of
this memorable mansion, with some remarks upon its connexion with the
narrative of the plot, which display equal acuteness and candour.
One
of the most beautiful points of view which Britain, or perhaps the
world, can afford is, or rather we may say was, the prospect from a
spot called the Wicks of Baiglie, being a species of niche at which
the traveller arrived, after a long stage from Kinross, through a
waste and uninteresting country, and from which, as forming a pass
over the summit of a ridgy eminence which he had gradually
surmounted, he beheld, stretching beneath him, the valley of the Tay,
traversed by its ample and lordly stream; the town of Perth, with its
two large meadows, or inches, its steeples, and its towers; the hills
of Moncrieff and Kinnoul faintly rising into picturesque rocks,
partly clothed with woods; the rich margin of the river, studded with
elegant mansions; and the distant view of the huge Grampian
mountains, the northern screen of this exquisite landscape. The
alteration of the road, greatly, it must be owned, to the improvement
of general intercourse, avoids this magnificent point of view, and
the landscape is introduced more gradually and partially to the eye,
though the approach must be still considered as extremely beautiful.
There is still, we believe, a footpath left open, by which the
station at the Wicks of Baiglie may be approached; and the traveller,
by quitting his horse or equipage, and walking a few hundred yards,
may still compare the real landscape with the sketch which we have
attempted to give. But it is not in our power to communicate, or in
his to receive, the exquisite charm which surprise gives to pleasure,
when so splendid a view arises when least expected or hoped for, and
which Chrystal Croftangry experienced when he beheld, for the first
time, the matchless scene.
Childish
wonder, indeed, was an ingredient in my delight, for I was not above
fifteen years old; and as this had been the first excursion which I
was permitted to make on a pony of my own, I also experienced the
glow of independence, mingled with that degree of anxiety which the
most conceited boy feels when he is first abandoned to his own
undirected counsels. I recollect pulling up the reins without meaning
to do so, and gazing on the scene before me as if I had been afraid
it would shift like those in a theatre before I could distinctly
observe its different parts, or convince myself that what I saw was
real. Since that hour, and the period is now more than fifty years
past, the recollection of that inimitable landscape has possessed the
strongest influence over my mind, and retained its place as a
memorable thing, when much that was influential on my own fortunes
has fled from my recollection. It is therefore unnatural that, whilst
deliberating on what might be brought forward for the amusement of
the public, I should pitch upon some narrative connected with the
splendid scenery which made so much impression on my youthful
imagination, and which may perhaps have that effect in setting off
the imperfections of the composition which ladies suppose a fine set
of china to possess in heightening the flavour of indifferent tea.
The
period at which I propose to commence is, however, considerably
earlier of the remarkable historical transactions to which I have
already alluded, as the events which I am about to recount occurred
during the last years of the 14th century, when the Scottish sceptre
was swayed by the gentle but feeble hand of John, who, on being
called to the throne, assumed the title of Robert the Third.
CHAPTER II.
A
country lip may have the velvet touch;
Though she's no lady, she may please as much.
DRYDEN.
Perth,
boasting, as we have already mentioned, so large a portion of the
beauties of inanimate nature, has at no time been without its own
share of those charms which are at once more interesting and more
transient. To be called the Fair Maid of Perth would at any period
have been a high distinction, and have inferred no mean superiority
in beauty, where there were many to claim that much envied attribute.
But, in the feudal times to which we now call the reader's attention,
female beauty was a quality of much higher importance than it has
been since the ideas of chivalry have been in a great measure
extinguished. The love of the ancient cavaliers was a licensed
species of idolatry, which the love of Heaven alone was theoretically
supposed to approach in intensity, and which in practice it seldom
equalled. God and the ladies were familiarly appealed to in the same
breath; and devotion to the fair sex was as peremptorily enjoined
upon the aspirant to the honour of chivalry as that which was due to
Heaven. At such a period in society, the power of beauty was almost
unlimited. It could level the highest rank with that which was
immeasurably inferior.
It
was but in the reign preceding that of Robert III. that beauty alone
had elevated a person of inferior rank and indifferent morals to
share the Scottish throne; and many women, less artful or less
fortunate, had risen to greatness from a state of concubinage, for
which the manners of the times made allowance and apology. Such views
might have dazzled a girl of higher birth than Catharine, or Katie,
Glover, who was universally acknowledged to be the most beautiful
young woman of the city or its vicinity, and whose renown, as the
Fair Maid of Perth, had drawn on her much notice from the young
gallants of the royal court, when it chanced to be residing in or
near Perth, insomuch that more than one nobleman of the highest rank,
and most distinguished for deeds of chivalry, were more attentive to
exhibit feats of horsemanship as they passed the door of old Simon
Glover, in what was called Couvrefew, or Curfew, Street, than to
distinguish themselves in the tournaments, where the noblest dames of
Scotland were spectators of their address. But the glover's
daughter—for, as was common with the citizens and artisans of that
early period, her father, Simon, derived his surname from the trade
which he practised—showed no inclination to listen to any gallantry
which came from those of a station highly exalted above that which
she herself occupied, and, though probably in no degree insensible to
her personal charms, seemed desirous to confine her conquests to
those who were within her own sphere of life. Indeed, her beauty
being of that kind which we connect more with the mind than with the
person, was, notwithstanding her natural kindness and gentleness of
disposition, rather allied to reserve than to gaiety, even when in
company with her equals; and the earnestness with which she attended
upon the exercises of devotion induced many to think that Catharine
Glover nourished the private wish to retire from the world and bury
herself in the recesses of the cloister. But to such a sacrifice,
should it be meditated, it was not to be expected her father, reputed
a wealthy man and having this only child, would yield a willing
consent.
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
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Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
