NARRATIVE CONTINUED
When Redgauntlet left the room, in haste and discomposure, the first
person he met on the stair, and indeed so close by the door of the
apartment that Darsie thought he must have been listening there, was his
attendant Nixon.
‘What the devil do you here?’ he said, abruptly and sternly.
‘I wait your orders,’ said Nixon. ‘I hope all’s right!--excuse my zeal.’
‘All is wrong, sir. Where is the seafaring fellow--Ewart--what do you
call him?’
‘Nanty Ewart, sir. I will carry your commands,’ said Nixon.
‘I will deliver them myself to him,’ said Redgauntlet; call him hither.’
‘But should your honour leave the presence?’ said Nixon, still
lingering.
‘‘Sdeath, sir, do you prate to me?’ said Redgauntlet, bending his brows.
‘I, sir, transact my own business; you, I am told, act by a ragged
deputy.’
Without further answer, Nixon departed, rather disconcerted, as it
seemed to Darsie.
‘That dog turns insolent and lazy,’ said Redgauntlet; but I must bear
with him for a while.’
A moment after, Nixon returned with Ewart.
‘Is this the smuggling fellow?’ demanded Redgauntlet. Nixon nodded.
‘Is he sober now? he was brawling anon.’
‘Sober enough for business,’ said Nixon.
‘Well then, hark ye, Ewart;--man your boat with your best hands, and
have her by the pier--get your other fellows on board the brig--if you
have any cargo left, throw it overboard; it shall be all paid, five
times over--and be ready for a start to Wales or the Hebrides, or
perhaps for Sweden or Norway.’
Ewart answered sullenly enough, ‘Aye, aye, sir.’
‘Go with him, Nixon,’ said Redgauntlet, forcing himself to speak with
some appearance of cordiality to the servant with whom he was offended;
‘see he does his duty.’
Ewart left the house sullenly, followed by Nixon. The sailor was just in
that species of drunken humour which made him jealous, passionate,
and troublesome, without showing any other disorder than that of
irritability. As he walked towards the beach he kept muttering to
himself, but in such a tone that his companion lost not a word,
‘Smuggling fellow--Aye, smuggler--and, start your cargo into the
sea--and be ready to start for the Hebrides, or Sweden--or the devil,
I suppose. Well, and what if I said in answer--Rebel, Jacobite--traitor;
I’ll make you and your d----d confederates walk the plank--I have seen
better men do it--half a score of a morning--when I was across the
Line.’
‘D--d unhandsome terms those Redgauntlet used to you, brother.’ said
Nixon.
‘Which do you mean?’ said Ewart, starting, and recollecting himself. ‘I
have been at my old trade of thinking aloud, have I?’
‘No matter,’ answered Nixon, ‘none but a friend heard you. You cannot
have forgotten how Redgauntlet disarmed you this morning.’
‘Why, I would bear no malice about that--only he is so cursedly high and
saucy,’ said Ewart.
‘And then,’ said Nixon, ‘I know you for a true-hearted Protestant.’
‘That I am, by G--,’ said Ewart. ‘No, the Spaniards could never get my
religion from me.’
‘And a friend to King George, and the Hanover line of succession,’ said
Nixon, still walking and speaking very slow.
‘You may swear I am, excepting in the way of business, as Turnpenny
says. I like King George, but I can’t afford to pay duties.’
‘You are outlawed, I believe,’ said Nixon.
‘Am I?--faith, I believe I am,’ said Ewart. ‘I wish I were INLAWED
again with all my heart. But come along, we must get all ready for our
peremptory gentleman, I suppose.’
‘I will teach you a better trick,’ said Nixon. ‘There is a bloody pack
of rebels yonder.’
‘Aye, we all know that,’ said the smuggler; ‘but the snowball’s melting,
I think.’
‘There is some one yonder, whose head is worth--thirty
thousand--pounds--of sterling money,’ said Nixon, pausing between each
word, as if to enforce the magnificence of the sum.
‘And what of that?’ said Ewart, quickly.
‘Only that, instead of lying by the pier with your men on their oars, if
you will just carry your boat on board just now, and take no notice of
any signal from the shore, by G--d, Nanty Ewart. I will make a man of
you for life!’
‘Oh ho! then the Jacobite gentry are not so safe as they think
themselves?’ said Nanty.
‘In an hour or two,’ replied Nixon, ‘they will be made safer in Carlisle
Castle.’
‘The devil they will!’ said Ewart; ‘and you have been the informer, I
suppose?’
‘Yes; I have been ill paid for my service among the Redgauntlets--have
scarce got dog’s wages--and been treated worse than ever dog was used. I
have the old fox and his cubs in the same trap now, Nanty; and we’ll see
how a certain young lady will look then. You see I am frank with you,
Nanty.’
‘And I will be as frank with you,’ said the smuggler. ‘You are a d--d
old scoundrel--traitor to the man whose bread you eat! Me help to betray
poor devils, that have been so often betrayed myself! Not if they were
a hundred Popes, Devils, and Pretenders. I will back and tell them their
danger--they are part of cargo--regularly invoiced--put under my charge
by the owners--I’ll back’--
‘You are not stark mad?’ said Nixon, who now saw he had miscalculated in
supposing Nanty’s wild ideas of honour and fidelity could be shaken
even by resentment, or by his Protestant partialities. ‘You shall not go
back--it is all a joke.’
‘I’ll back to Redgauntlet, and see whether it is a joke he will laugh
at.’
‘My life is lost if you do,’ said Nixon--‘hear reason.’
They were in a clump or cluster of tall furze at the moment they were
speaking, about half-way between the pier and the house, but not in a
direct line, from which Nixon, whose object it was to gain time, had
induced Ewart to diverge insensibly.
He now saw the necessity of taking a desperate resolution. ‘Hear
reason,’ he said; and added, as Nanty still endeavoured to pass him, ‘Or
else hear this!’ discharging a pocket-pistol into the unfortunate man’s
body.
Nanty staggered, but kept his feet. ‘It has cut my back-bone asunder,’
he said; ‘you have done me the last good office, and I will not die
ungrateful.’
As he uttered the last words, he collected his remaining strength, stood
firm for an instant, drew his hanger, and, fetching a stroke with both
hands, cut Cristal Nixon down. The blow, struck with all the energy of
a desperate and dying man, exhibited a force to which Ewart’s exhausted
frame might have seemed inadequate;--it cleft the hat which the wretch
wore, though secured by a plate of iron within the lining, bit deep into
his skull, and there left a fragment of the weapon, which was broke by
the fury of the blow.
One of the seamen of the lugger, who strolled up attracted by the firing
of the pistol, though being a small one the report was very trifling,
found both the unfortunate men stark dead. Alarmed at what he saw,
which he conceived to have been the consequence of some unsuccessful
engagement betwixt his late commander and a revenue officer (for Nixon
chanced not to be personally known to him) the sailor hastened back
to the boat, in order to apprise his comrades of Nanty’s fate, and to
advise them to take off themselves and the vessel.
Meantime Redgauntlet, having, as we have seen, dispatched Nixon for the
purpose of securing a retreat for the unfortunate Charles, in case of
extremity, returned to the apartment where he had left the Wanderer. He
now found him alone.
‘Sir Richard Glendale,’ said the unfortunate prince, ‘with his
young friend, has gone to consult their adherents now in the house.
Redgauntlet, my friend, I will not blame you for the circumstances in
which I find myself, though I am at once placed in danger, and rendered
contemptible. But you ought to have stated to me more strongly the
weight which these gentlemen attached to their insolent proposition. You
should have told me that no compromise would have any effect--that they
desire not a prince to govern them, but one, on the contrary, over
whom they were to exercise restraint on all occasions, from the highest
affairs of the state, down to the most intimate and private concerns of
his own privacy, which the most ordinary men desire to keep secret and
sacred from interference.’
‘God knows,’ said Redgauntlet, in much agitation, ‘I acted for the best
when I pressed your Majesty to come hither--I never thought that your
Majesty, at such a crisis, would have scrupled, when a kingdom was in
view, to sacrifice an attachment, which’--
‘Peace, sir!’ said Charles; ‘it is not for you to estimate my feelings
upon such a subject.’
Redgauntlet coloured high, and bowed profoundly. ‘At least,’ he
resumed, ‘I hoped that some middle way might be found, and it shall--and
must.--Come with me, nephew. We will to these gentlemen, and I am
confident I will bring back heart-stirring tidings.’
‘I will do much to comply with them, Redgauntlet. I am loath, having
again set my foot on British land, to quit it without a blow for my
right. But this which they demand of me is a degradation, and compliance
is impossible.’
Redgauntlet, followed by his nephew, the unwilling spectator of this
extraordinary scene, left once more the apartment of the adventurous
Wanderer, and was met on the top of the stairs by Joe Crackenthorp.
‘Where are the other gentlemen?’ he said.
‘Yonder, in the west barrack,’ answered Joe; ‘but Master
Ingoldsby,’--that was the name by which Redgauntlet was most generally
known in Cumberland,--‘I wish to say to you that I must put yonder folk
together in one room.’
‘What folk?’ said Redgauntlet, impatiently.
‘Why, them prisoner stranger folk, as you bid Cristal Nixon look after.
Lord love you! this is a large house enow, but we cannot have separate
lock-ups for folk, as they have in Newgate or in Bedlam. Yonder’s a
mad beggar, that is to be a great man when he wins a lawsuit, Lord help
him!--Yonder’s a Quaker and a lawyer charged with a riot; and, ecod, I
must make one key and one lock keep them, for we are chokeful, and you
have sent off old Nixon that could have given one some help in this
confusion. Besides, they take up every one a room, and call for naughts
on earth,--excepting the old man, who calls lustily enough,--but he has
not a penny to pay shot.’
‘Do as thou wilt with them,’ said Redgauntlet, who had listened
impatiently to his statement; ‘so thou dost but keep them from getting
out and making some alarm in the country, I care not.’
‘A Quaker and a lawyer!’ said Darsie. ‘This must be Fairford and
Geddes.--Uncle, I must request of you’--
‘Nay, nephew,’ interrupted Redgauntlet, ‘this is no time for asking
questions. You shall yourself decide upon their fate in the course of an
hour--no harm whatever is designed them.’
So saying, he hurried towards the place where the Jacobite gentlemen
were holding their council, and Darsie followed him, in the hope that
the obstacle which had arisen to the prosecution of their desperate
adventure would prove insurmountable and spare him the necessity of a
dangerous and violent rupture with his uncle. The discussions among
them were very eager; the more daring part of the conspirators, who had
little but life to lose, being desirous to proceed at all hazards;
while the others, whom a sense of honour and a hesitation to disavow
long-cherished principles had brought forward, were perhaps not ill
satisfied to have a fair apology for declining an adventure, into which
they had entered with more of reluctance than zeal.
Meanwhile Joe Crackenthorp, availing himself of the hasty permission
attained from Redgauntlet, proceeded to assemble in one apartment
those whose safe custody had been thought necessary; and, without much
considering the propriety of the matter, he selected for the common
place of confinement, the room which Lilias had, since her brother’s
departure, occupied alone. It had a strong lock, and was double-hinged,
which probably led to the preference assigned to it, as a place of
security.
Into this, Joe, with little ceremony, and a good deal of noise,
introduced the Quaker and Fairford; the first descanting on the
immorality, the other on the illegality, of his proceedings; and he
turned a deaf ear both to the one and the other. Next he pushed in,
almost in headlong fashion, the unfortunate litigant, who, having made
some resistance at the threshold, had received a violent thrust
in consequence, and came rushing forward, like a ram in the act of
charging, with such impetus as must have carried him to the top of the
room, and struck the cocked hat which sat perched on the top of his
tow wig against Miss Redgauntlet’s person, had not the honest Quaker
interrupted his career by seizing him by the collar, and bringing him to
a stand. ‘Friend,’ said he, with the real good-breeding which so often
subsists independently of ceremony, ‘thou art no company for that young
person; she is, thou seest, frightened at our being so suddenly thrust
in hither; and although that be no fault of ours, yet it will become
us to behave civilly towards her. Wherefore come thou with me to this
window, and I will tell thee what it concerns thee to know.’
‘And what for should I no speak to the Leddy, friend?’ said Peter, who
was now about half seas over. ‘I have spoke to leddies before now, man.
What for should she be frightened at me? I am nae bogle, I ween. What
are ye pooin’ me that gate for? Ye will rive my coat, and I will have
a good action for having myself made SARTUM ATQUE TECTUM at your
expenses.’
Notwithstanding this threat, Mr. Geddes, whose muscles were as strong as
his judgement was sound and his temper sedate, led Poor Peter under the
sense of a control against which he could not struggle, to the farther
corner of the apartment, where, placing him, whether he would or no, in
a chair, he sat down beside him, and effectually prevented his annoying
the young lady, upon whom he had seemed bent upon conferring the
delights of his society.
If Peter had immediately recognized his counsel learned in the law, it
is probable that not even the benevolent efforts of the Quaker could
have kept him in a state of restraint; but Fairford’s back was turned
towards his client, whose optics, besides being somewhat dazzled with
ale and brandy, were speedily engaged in contemplating a half-crown
which Joshua held between his finger and his thumb, saying, at the
same time, ‘Friend, thou art indigent and improvident. This will, well
employed, procure thee sustentation of nature for more than a single
day; and I will bestow it on thee if thou wilt sit here and keep me
company; for neither thou nor I, friend, are fit company for ladies.’
‘Speak for yourself, friend,’ said Peter, scornfully; ‘I was ay kend to
be agreeable to the fair sex; and when I was in business I served the
ladies wi’ anither sort of decorum than Plainstanes, the d--d awkward
scoundrel! It was one of the articles of dittay between us.’
‘Well, but, friend,’ said the Quaker, who observed that the young lady
still seemed to fear Peter’s intrusion, ‘I wish to hear thee speak about
this great lawsuit of thine, which has been matter of such celebrity.’
‘Celebrity! Ye may swear that,’ said Peter, for the string was touched
to which his crazy imagination always vibrated. ‘And I dinna wonder
that folk that judge things by their outward grandeur, should think me
something worth their envying. It’s very true that it is grandeur upon
earth to hear ane’s name thunnered out along the long-arched roof of the
Outer House,--“Poor Peter Peebles against Plainstanes ET PER CONTRA;”
a’ the best lawyers in the house fleeing like eagles to the prey; some
because they are in the cause, and some because they want to be thought
engaged (for there are tricks in other trades by selling muslins)--to
see the reporters mending their pens to take down the debate--the Lords
themselves pooin’ in their chairs, like folk sitting down to a gude
dinner, and crying on the clerks for parts and pendicles of the process,
who, puir bodies, can do little mair than cry on their closet-keepers
to help them. To see a’ this,’ continued Peter, in a tone of sustained
rapture, ‘and to ken that naething will be said or dune amang a’ thae
grand folk, for maybe the feck of three hours, saving what concerns you
and your business--Oh, man, nae wonder that ye judge this to be earthly
glory! And yet, neighbour, as I was saying, there be unco drawbacks--I
whiles think of my bit house, where dinner, and supper, and breakfast,
used to come without the crying for, just as if fairies had brought
it--and the gude bed at e’en--and the needfu’ penny in the pouch. And
then to see a’ ane’s warldly substance capering in the air in a pair of
weighbauks, now up, now down, as the breath of judge or counsel inclines
it for pursuer or defender,--troth, man, there are times I rue having
ever begun the plea wark, though, maybe, when ye consider the renown and
credit I have by it, ye will hardly believe what I am saying.’
‘Indeed, friend,’ said Joshua, with a sigh, ‘I am glad thou hast found
anything in the legal contention which compensates thee for poverty and
hunger; but I believe, were other human objects of ambition looked
upon as closely, their advantages would be found as chimerical as those
attending thy protracted litigation.’
‘But never mind, friend,’ said Peter, ‘I’ll tell you the exact state of
the conjunct processes, and make you sensible that I can bring mysell
round with a wet finger, now I have my finger and my thumb on this
loup-the-dike loon, the lad Fairford.’
Alan Fairford was in the act of speaking to the masked lady (for Miss
Redgauntlet had retained her riding vizard) endeavouring to assure her,
as he perceived her anxiety, of such protection as he could afford, when
his own name, pronounced in a loud tone, attracted his attention. He
looked round, and seeing Peter Peebles, as hastily turned to avoid his
notice, in which he succeeded, so earnest was Peter upon his colloquy
with one of the most respectable auditors whose attention he had ever
been able to engage. And by this little motion, momentary as it was,
Alan gained an unexpected advantage; for while he looked round, Miss
Lilias, I could never ascertain why, took the moment to adjust her mask,
and did it so awkwardly, that when her companion again turned his head,
he recognized as much of her features as authorized him to address her
as his fair client, and to press his offers of protection and assistance
with the boldness of a former acquaintance.
Lilias Redgauntlet withdrew the mask from her crimsoned cheek. ‘Mr.
Fairford,’ she said, in a voice almost inaudible, ‘you have the
character of a young gentleman of sense and generosity; but we have
already met in one situation which you must think singular; and I must
be exposed to misconstruction, at least, for my forwardness, were it not
in a cause in which my dearest affections were concerned.’
‘Any interest in my beloved friend Darsie Latimer,’ said Fairford,
stepping a little back, and putting a marked restraint upon his former
advances, ‘gives me a double right to be useful to’--He stopped short.
‘To his sister, your goodness would say,’ answered Lilias.
‘His sister, madam!’ replied Alan, in the extremity of
astonishment--‘Sister, I presume, in affection only?’
‘No, sir; my dear brother Darsie and I are connected by the bonds of
actual relationship; and I am not sorry to be the first to tell this to
the friend he most values.’
Fairford’s first thought was on the violent passion which Darsie had
expressed towards the fair unknown. ‘Good God!’ he exclaimed, ‘how did
he bear the discovery?’
‘With resignation, I hope,’ said Lilias, smiling. ‘A more accomplished
sister he might easily have come by, but scarcely could have found one
who could love him more than I do.’
‘I meant--I only meant to say,’ said the young counsellor, his presence
of mind failing him for an instant--‘that is, I meant to ask where
Darsie Latimer is at this moment.’
‘In this very house, and under the guardianship of his uncle, whom I
believe you knew as a visitor of your father, under the name of Mr.
Herries of Birrenswork.’
‘Let me hasten to him,’ said Fairford; ‘I have sought him through
difficulties and dangers--I must see him instantly.’
‘You forget you are a prisoner,’ said the young lady.
‘True--true; but I cannot be long detained--the cause alleged is too
ridiculous.’
‘Alas!’ said Lilias, ‘our fate--my brother’s and mine, at least--must
turn on the deliberations perhaps of less than an hour. For you, sir, I
believe and apprehend nothing; but some restraint; my uncle is neither
cruel nor unjust, though few will go further in the cause which he has
adopted.’
‘Which is that of the Pretend’--
‘For God’s sake speak lower!’ said Lilias, approaching her hand, as if
to stop him. ‘The word may cost you your life. You do not know--indeed
you do not--the terrors of the situation in which we at present stand,
and in which I fear you also are involved by your friendship for my
brother.’
‘I do not indeed know the particulars of our situation,’ said Fairford;
‘but, be the danger what it may, I shall not grudge my share of it
for the sake of my friend; or,’ he added, with more timidity, ‘of my
friend’s sister. Let me hope,’ he said, ‘my dear Miss Latimer, that
my presence may be of some use to you; and that it may be so, let
me entreat a share of your confidence, which I am conscious I have
otherwise no right to ask.’
He led her, as he spoke, towards the recess of the farther window of the
room, and observing to her that, unhappily, he was particularly exposed
to interruption from the mad old man whose entrance had alarmed her, he
disposed of Darsie Latimer’s riding-skirt, which had been left in the
apartment, over the back of two chairs, forming thus a sort of screen,
behind which he ensconced himself with the maiden of the green mantle;
feeling at the moment, that the danger in which he was placed was almost
compensated by the intelligence which permitted those feelings towards
her to revive, which justice to his friend had induced him to stifle in
the birth.
The relative situation of adviser and advised, of protector and
protected, is so peculiarly suited to the respective condition of man
and woman, that great progress towards intimacy is often made in very
short space; for the circumstances call for confidence on the part of
the gentleman, and forbid coyness on that of the lady, so that the usual
barriers against easy intercourse are at once thrown down.
Under these circumstances, securing themselves as far as possible from
observation, conversing in whispers, and seated in a corner, where they
were brought into so close contact that their faces nearly touched each
other, Fairford heard from Lilias Redgauntlet the history of her family,
particularly of her uncle; his views upon her brother, and the agony
which she felt, lest at that very moment he might succeed in engaging
Darsie in some desperate scheme, fatal to his fortune and perhaps to his
life.
Alan Fairford’s acute understanding instantly connected what he had
heard with the circumstances he had witnessed at Fairladies. His first
thought was, to attempt, at all risks, his instant escape, and procure
assistance powerful enough to crush, in the very cradle, a conspiracy of
such a determined character. This he did not consider as difficult; for,
though the door was guarded on the outside, the window, which was not
above ten feet from the ground, was open for escape, the common on which
it looked was unenclosed, and profusely covered with furze. There
would, he thought, be little difficulty in effecting his liberty, and in
concealing his course after he had gained it.
But Lilias exclaimed against this scheme. Her uncle, she said, was a man
who, in his moments of enthusiasm, knew neither remorse nor fear. He
was capable of visiting upon Darsie any injury which he might conceive
Fairford had rendered him--he was her near kinsman also, and not an
unkind one, and she deprecated any effort, even in her brother’s favour,
by which his life must be exposed to danger. Fairford himself remembered
Father Buonaventure, and made little question but that he was one of
the sons of the old Chevalier de Saint George; and with feelings which,
although contradictory of his public duty, can hardly be much censured,
his heart recoiled from being the agent by whom the last scion of such
a long line of Scottish princes should be rooted up. He then thought
of obtaining an audience, if possible, of this devoted person, and
explaining to him the utter hopelessness of his undertaking, which he
judged it likely that the ardour of his partisans might have concealed
from him. But he relinquished this design as soon as formed. He had no
doubt, that any light which he could throw on the state of the country,
would come too late to be serviceable to one who was always reported to
have his own full share of the hereditary obstinacy which had cost his
ancestors so dear, and who, in drawing the sword, must have thrown from
him the scabbard.
Lilias suggested the advice which, of all others, seemed most suited
to the occasion, that, yielding, namely, to the circumstances of their
situation, they should watch carefully when Darsie should obtain any
degree of freedom, and endeavour to open a communication with him, in
which case their joint flight might be effected, and without endangering
the safety of any one.
Their youthful deliberation had nearly fixed in this point, when
Fairford, who was listening to the low sweet whispering tones of Lilias
Redgauntlet, rendered yet more interesting by some slight touch of
foreign accent, was startled by a heavy hand which descended with full
weight on his shoulder, while the discordant voice of Peter Peebles, who
had at length broke loose from the well-meaning Quaker, exclaimed in the
ear of his truant counsel--‘Aha, lad! I think ye are catched--An’ so ye
are turned chamber-counsel, are ye? And ye have drawn up wi’ clients
in scarfs and hoods? But bide a wee, billie, and see if I dinna sort ye
when my petition and complaint comes to be discussed, with or without
answers, under certification.’
Alan Fairford had never more difficulty in his life to subdue a first
emotion, than he had to refrain from knocking down the crazy blockhead
who had broken in upon him at such a moment. But the length of Peter’s
address gave him time, fortunately perhaps for both parties, to reflect
on the extreme irregularity of such a proceeding. He stood silent,
however, with vexation, while Peter went on.
‘Weel, my bonnie man, I see ye are thinking shame o’ yoursell, and nae
great wonder. Ye maun leave this quean--the like of her is ower light
company for you. I have heard honest Mr. Pest say, that the gown grees
ill wi’ the petticoat. But come awa hame to your puir father, and I’ll
take care of you the haill gate, and keep you company, and deil a word
we will speak about, but just the state of the conjoined processes of
the great cause of Poor Peter Peebles against Plainstanes.’
‘If thou canst; endure to hear as much of that suit, friend,’ said
the Quaker, ‘as I have heard out of mere compassion for thee, I think
verily thou wilt soon be at the bottom of the matter, unless it be
altogether bottomless.’
Fairford shook off, rather indignantly, the large bony hand which Peter
had imposed upon his shoulder, and was about to say something peevish,
upon so unpleasant and insolent a mode of interruption, when the door
opened, a treble voice saying to the sentinel, ‘I tell you I maun be in,
to see if Mr. Nixon’s here;’ and little Benjie thrust in his mop-head
and keen black eyes. Ere he could withdraw it, Peter Peebles sprang to
the door, seized on the boy by the collar, and dragged him forward into
the room.
‘Let me see it,’ he said, ‘ye ne’er-do-weel limb of Satan--I’ll gar
you satisfy the production, I trow--I’ll hae first and second diligence
against you, ye deevil’s buckie!’
‘What dost thou want?’ said the Quaker, interfering; ‘why dost thou
frighten the boy, friend Peebles?’
‘I gave the bastard a penny to buy me snuff,’ said the pauper, ‘and he
has rendered no account of his intromissions; but I’ll gar him as gude.’
So saying, he proceeded forcibly to rifle the pockets of Benjie’s ragged
jacket of one or two snares for game, marbles, a half-bitten apple, two
stolen eggs (one of which Peter broke in the eagerness of his research),
and various other unconsidered trifles, which had not the air of being
very honestly come by. The little rascal, under this discipline, bit and
struggled like a fox-cub, but, like that vermin, uttered neither cry nor
complaint, till a note, which Peter tore from his bosom, flew as far as
Lilias Redgauntlet, and fell at her feet. It was addressed to C. N.
‘It is for the villain Nixon.’ she said to Alan Fairford; ‘open it
without scruple; that boy is his emissary; we shall now see what the
miscreant is driving at.’
Little Benjie now gave up all further struggle, and suffered Peebles
to take from him, without resistance, a shilling, out of which Peter
declared he would pay himself principal and interest, and account for
the balance. The boy, whose attention seemed fixed on something very
different, only said, ‘Maister Nixon will murder me!’
Alan Fairford did not hesitate to read the little scrap of paper, on
which was written, ‘All is prepared--keep them in play until I come up.
You may depend on your reward.--C. C.’
‘Alas, my uncle--my poor uncle!’ said Lilias; ‘this is the result of
his confidence. Methinks, to give him instant notice of his confidant’s
treachery, is now the best service we can render all concerned--if
they break up their undertaking, as they must now do, Darsie will be at
liberty.’
In the same breath, they were both at the half-opened door of the room,
Fairford entreating to speak with the Father Buonaventure, and Lilias,
equally vehemently, requesting a moment’s interview with her uncle.
While the sentinel hesitated what to do, his attention was called to a
loud noise at the door, where a crowd had been assembled in consequence
of the appalling cry, that the enemy were upon them, occasioned, as it
afterwards proved, by some stragglers having at length discovered the
dead bodies of Nanty Ewart and of Nixon.
Amid the confusion occasioned by this alarming incident, the sentinel
ceased to attend, to his duty; and accepting Alan Fairford’s arm, Lilias
found no opposition in penetrating even to the inner apartment, where
the principal persons in the enterprise, whose conclave had been
disturbed by this alarming incident, were now assembled in great
confusion, and had been joined by the Chevalier himself.
‘Only a mutiny among these smuggling scoundrels,’ said Redgauntlet.
ONLY a mutiny, do you say?’ said Sir Richard Glendale; ‘and the lugger,
the last hope of escape for,’--he looked towards Charles,--‘stands out
to sea under a press of sail!’
‘Do not concern yourself about me,’ said the unfortunate prince; ‘this
is not the worst emergency in which it has been my lot to stand; and if
it were, I fear it not. Shift for yourselves, my lords and gentlemen.’
‘No, never!’ said the young Lord ------. ‘Our only hope now is in an
honourable resistance.’
‘Most true,’ said Redgauntlet; ‘let despair renew the union amongst
us which accident disturbed. I give my voice for displaying the royal
banner instantly, and--How now!’ he concluded, sternly, as Lilias, first
soliciting his attention by pulling his cloak, put into his hand the
scroll, and added, it was designed for that of Nixon.
Redgauntlet read--and, dropping it on the ground, continued to stare
upon the spot where it fell, with raised hands and fixed eyes. Sir
Richard Glendale lifted the fatal paper, read it, and saying, ‘Now all
is indeed over,’ handed it to Maxwell, who said aloud, ‘Black Colin
Campbell, by G--d! I heard he had come post from London last night.’
As if in echo to his thoughts, the violin of the blind man was heard,
playing with spirit, The Campbells are coming,’ a celebrated clan-march.
‘The Campbells are coming in earnest,’ said MacKellar; they are upon us
with the whole battalion from Carlisle.’
There was a silence of dismay, and two or three of the company began to
drop out of the room.
Lord ------ spoke with the generous spirit of a young English nobleman.
‘If we have been fools, do not let us be cowards. We have one here more
precious than us all, and come hither on our warranty--let us save him
at least.’
‘True, most true,’ answered Sir Richard Glendale. ‘Let the king be first
cared for.’
‘That shall be my business,’ said Redgauntlet ‘if we have but time to
bring back the brig, all will be well--I will instantly dispatch a party
in a fishing skiff to bring her to.’ He gave his commands to two or
three of the most active among his followers. ‘Let him be once on
board,’ he said, ‘and there are enough of us to stand to arms and cover
his retreat.’
‘Right, right,’ said Sir Richard, ‘and I will look to points which can
be made defensible; and the old powder-plot boys could not have made a
more desperate resistance than we shall. Redgauntlet,’ continued he, ‘I
see some of our friends are looking pale; but methinks your nephew has
more mettle in his eye now than when we were in cold deliberation, with
danger at a distance.’
‘It is the way of our house,’ said Redgauntlet; ‘our courage ever
kindles highest on the losing side. I, too, feel that the catastrophe
I have brought on must not be survived by its author. Let me first,’
he said, addressing Charles, ‘see your Majesty’s sacred person in such
safety as can now be provided for it, and then’--
‘You may spare all considerations concerning me, gentlemen,’ again
repeated Charles; ‘yon mountain of Criffel shall fly as soon as I will.’
Most threw themselves at his feet with weeping and entreaty; some one
or two slunk in confusion from the apartment, and were heard riding
off. Unnoticed in such a scene, Darsie, his sister, and Fairford, drew
together, and held each other by the hands, as those who, when a vessel
is about to founder in the storm, determine to take their chance of life
and death together.
Amid this scene of confusion, a gentleman, plainly dressed in a
riding-habit, with a black cockade in his hat, but without any arms
except a COUTEAU-DE-CHASSE, walked into the apartment without ceremony.
He was a tall, thin, gentlemanly man, with a look and bearing decidedly
military. He had passed through their guards, if in the confusion they
now maintained any, without stop or question, and now stood, almost
unarmed, among armed men, who nevertheless, gazed on him as on the angel
of destruction.
‘You look coldly on me, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘Sir Richard Glendale--my
Lord ------, we were not always such strangers. Ha, Pate-in-Peril, how
is it with you? and you, too, Ingoldsby--I must not call you by any
other name--why do you receive an old friend so coldly? But you guess my
errand.’
‘And are prepared for it, general,’ said Redgauntlet; ‘we are not men to
be penned up like sheep for the slaughter.’
‘Pshaw! you take it too seriously--let me speak but one word with you.’
‘No words can shake our purpose,’ said Redgauntlet, were your whole
command, as I suppose is the case, drawn round the house.’
‘I am certainly not unsupported,’ said the general; ‘but if you would
hear me’--
‘Hear ME, sir,’ said the Wanderer, stepping forward; ‘I suppose I am the
mark you aim at--I surrender myself willingly, to save these gentlemen’s
danger--let this at least avail in their favour.’
An exclamation of ‘Never, never!’ broke from the little body of
partisans, who threw themselves round the unfortunate prince, and would
have seized or struck down Campbell, had it not been that he remained
with his arms folded, and a look, rather indicating impatience because
they would not hear him, than the least apprehension of violence at
their hand.
At length he obtained a moment’s silence. ‘I do not,’ he said, ‘know
this gentleman’--(making a profound bow to the unfortunate prince)--‘I
do not wish to know him; it is a knowledge which would suit neither of
us.’
‘Our ancestors, nevertheless, have been well acquainted,’ said Charles,
unable to suppress, even at that hour of dread and danger, the painful
recollections of fallen royalty.
‘In one word, General Campbell,’ said Redgauntlet, ‘is it to be peace or
war? You are a man of honour, and we can trust you.’
‘I thank you, sir,’ said the general; ‘and I reply, that the answer to
your question rests with yourself. Come, do not be fools, gentlemen;
there was perhaps no great harm meant or intended by your gathering
together in this obscure corner, for a bear-bait or a cock-fight, or
whatever other amusement you may have intended, but it was a little
imprudent, considering how you stand with government, and it has
occasioned some anxiety. Exaggerated accounts of your purpose have
been laid before government by the information of a traitor in your own
counsels; and I was sent down post to take the command of a sufficient
number of troops, in case these calumnies should be found to have any
real foundation. I have come here, of course, sufficiently supported
both with cavalry and infantry, to do whatever might be necessary; but
my commands are--and I am sure they agree with my inclination--to make
no arrests, nay, to make no further inquiries of any kind, if this good
assembly will consider their own interest so far as to give up their
immediate purpose, and return quietly home to their own houses.’
‘What!--all?’ exclaimed Sir Richard Glendale--‘all, without exception?’
‘ALL, without one single exception’ said the general; ‘such are my
orders. If you accept my terms, say so, and make haste; for things may
happen to interfere with his Majesty’s kind purposes towards you all.’
‘Majesty’s kind purposes!’ said the Wanderer. ‘Do I hear you aright,
sir?’
‘I speak the king’s very words, from his very lips,’ replied the
general. ‘“I will,” said his Majesty, “deserve the confidence of my
subjects by reposing my security in the fidelity of the millions who
acknowledge my title--in the good sense and prudence of the few who
continue, from the errors of education, to disown it.” His Majesty will
not even believe that the most zealous Jacobites who yet remain can
nourish a thought of exciting a civil war, which must be fatal to their
families and themselves, besides spreading bloodshed and ruin through
a peaceful land. He cannot even believe of his kinsman, that he would
engage brave and generous though mistaken men, in an attempt which must
ruin all who have escaped former calamities; and he is convinced,
that, did curiosity or any other motive lead that person to visit this
country, he would soon see it was his wisest course to return to the
continent; and his Majesty compassionates his situation too much to
offer any obstacle to his doing so.’
‘Is this real?’ said Redgauntlet. ‘Can you mean this? Am I--are all, are
any of these gentlemen at liberty, without interruption, to embark in
yonder brig, which, I see, is now again approaching the shore?’
‘You, sir--all--any of the gentlemen present,’ said the general,--‘all
whom the vessel can contain, are at liberty to embark uninterrupted
by me; but I advise none to go off who have not powerful reasons
unconnected with the present meeting, for this will be remembered
against no one.’
‘Then, gentlemen,’ said Redgauntlet, clasping his hands together as the
words burst from him, ‘the cause is lost for ever!’
General Campbell turned away to the window, as if to avoid hearing what
they said. Their consultation was but momentary; for the door of escape
which thus opened was as unexpected as the exigence was threatening.
‘We have your word of honour for our protection,’ said Sir Richard
Glendale, ‘if we dissolve our meeting in obedience to your summons?’
‘You have, Sir Richard,’ answered the general.
‘And I also have your promise,’ said Redgauntlet, ‘that I may go on
board yonder vessel, with any friend whom I may choose to accompany me?’
Not only that, Mr. Ingoldsby--or I WILL call you Mr. Redgauntlet once
more--you may stay in the offing for a tide, until you are joined by any
person who may remain at Fairladies. After that, there will be a sloop
of war on the station, and I need not say your condition will then
become perilous.’
‘Perilous it should not be, General Campbell,’ said Redgauntlet, ‘or
more perilous to others than to us, if others thought as I do even in
this extremity.’
‘You forget yourself, my friend,’ said the unhappy Adventurer; you
forget that the arrival of this gentleman only puts the cope-stone on
our already adopted resolution to abandon our bull-fight or by whatever
other wild name this headlong enterprise may be termed. I bid you
farewell, unfriendly friends--I bid you farewell,’ (bowing to the
general) ‘my friendly foe--I leave this strand as I landed upon it,
alone and to return no more!’
‘Not alone,’ said Redgauntlet, ‘while there is blood in the veins of my
father’s son.’
‘Not alone,’ said the other gentlemen present, stung with feelings which
almost overpowered the better reasons under which they had acted. ‘We
will not disown our principles, or see your person endangered.’
‘If it be only your purpose to see the gentleman to the beach,’ said
General Campbell, ‘I will myself go with you. My presence among you,
unarmed, and in your power, will be a pledge of my friendly intentions,
and will overawe, should such be offered, any interruption on the part
of officious persons.’
‘Be it so,’ said the Adventurer, with the air of a prince to a subject,
not of one who complied with the request of an enemy too powerful to be
resisted.
They left the apartment--they left the house--an unauthenticated and
dubious, but appalling, sensation of terror had already spread itself
among the inferior retainers, who had so short time before strutted, and
bustled, and thronged the doorway and the passages. A report had arisen,
of which the origin could not be traced, of troops advancing towards the
spot in considerable numbers; and men who, for one reason or other,
were most of them amenable to the arm of power, had either shrunk into
stables or corners, or fled the place entirely. There was solitude on
the landscape excepting the small party which now moved towards the
rude pier, where a boat lay manned, agreeably to Redgauntlet’s orders
previously given.
The last heir of the Stuarts leant on Redgauntlet’s arm as they walked
towards the beach; for the ground was rough, and he no longer possessed
the elasticity of limb and of spirit which had, twenty years before,
carried him over many a Highland hill as light as one of their native
deer. His adherents followed, looking on the ground, their feelings
struggling against the dictates of their reason.
General Campbell accompanied them with an air of apparent ease and
indifference, but watching, at the same time, and no doubt with some
anxiety, the changing features of those who acted in this extraordinary
scene.
Darsie and his sister naturally followed their uncle, whose violence
they no longer feared, while his character attracted their respect, and
Alan Fairford attended them from interest in their fate, unnoticed in
a party where all were too much occupied with their own thoughts
and feelings, as well as with the impending crisis, to attend to his
presence.
Half-way betwixt the house and the beach, they saw the bodies of Nanty
Ewart and Cristal Nixon blackening in the sun.
‘That was your informer?’ said Redgauntlet, looking back to General
Campbell, who only nodded his assent.
‘Caitiff wretch!’ exclaimed Redgauntlet;--‘and yet the name were better
bestowed on the fool who could be misled by thee.’
‘That sound broadsword cut,’ said the general, ‘has saved us the shame
of rewarding a traitor.’
They arrived at the place of embarkation. The prince stood a moment with
folded arms, and looked around him in deep silence. A paper was then
slipped into his hands--he looked at it, and said, ‘I find the two
friends I have left at Fairladies are apprised of my destination,
and propose to embark from Bowness. I presume this will not be an
infringement of the conditions under which you have acted?’
‘Certainly not,’ answered General Campbell; ‘they shall have all
facility to join you.’
‘I wish, then,’ said Charles, ‘only another companion. Redgauntlet, the
air of this country is as hostile to you as it is to me. These gentlemen
have made their peace, or rather they have done nothing to break it.
But you--come you and share my home where chance shall cast it. We
shall never see these shores again; but we will talk of them, and of our
disconcerted bull-fight.’
‘I follow you, sire, through life,’ said Redgauntlet, ‘as I would have
followed you to death. Permit me one moment.’
The prince then looked round, and seeing the abashed countenances of his
other adherents bent upon the ground, he hastened to say, ‘Do not think
that you, gentlemen, have obliged me less because your zeal was mingled
with prudence, entertained, I am sure, more on my own account and on
that of your country, than from selfish apprehensions.’
He stepped from one to another, and, amid sobs and bursting tears,
received the adieus of the last remnant which had hitherto supported
his lofty pretensions, and addressed them individually with accents of
tenderness and affection.
The general drew a little aloof, and signed to Redgauntlet to speak
with him while this scene proceeded. ‘It is now all over,’ he said, ‘and
Jacobite will be henceforward no longer a party name. When you tire of
foreign parts, and wish to make your peace, let me know. Your restless
zeal alone has impeded your pardon hitherto.’
‘And now I shall not need it,’ said Redgauntlet. ‘I leave England
for ever; but I am not displeased that you should hear my family
adieus.--Nephew, come hither. In presence of General Campbell, I tell
you, that though to breed you up in my own political opinions has been
for many years my anxious wish, I am now glad that it could not be
accomplished. You pass under the service of the reigning monarch without
the necessity of changing your allegiance--a change, however,’ he added,
looking around him, which sits more easy on honourable men than I could
have anticipated; but some wear the badge of their loyalty on their
sleeve, and others in the heart. You will, from henceforth, be
uncontrolled master of all the property of which forfeiture could not
deprive your father--of all that belonged to him--excepting this, his
good sword’ (laying his hand on the weapon he wore), ‘which shall never
fight for the House of Hanover; and as my hand will never draw weapon
more, I shall sink it forty fathoms deep in the wide ocean. Bless you,
young man! If I have dealt harshly with you, forgive me. I had set my
whole desires on one point,--God knows, with no selfish purpose; and
I am justly punished by this final termination of my views, for having
been too little scrupulous in the means by which I pursued them.--Niece,
farewell, and may God bless you also!’
‘No, sir,’ said Lilias, seizing his hand eagerly. ‘You have been
hitherto my protector,--you are now in sorrow, let me be your attendant
and your comforter in exile.’
‘I thank you, my girl, for your unmerited affection; but it cannot and
must not be. The curtain here falls between us. I go to the house of
another. If I leave it before I quit the earth, it shall be only for the
House of God. Once more, farewell both! The fatal doom,’ he said, with
a melancholy smile, ‘will, I trust, now depart from the House of
Redgauntlet, since its present representative has adhered to the winning
side. I am convinced he will not change it, should it in turn become the
losing one.’
The unfortunate Charles Edward had now given his last adieus to his
downcast adherents. He made a sign with his hand to Redgauntlet, who
came to assist him into the skiff. General Campbell also offered his
assistance, the rest appearing too much affected by the scene which had
taken place to prevent him.
‘You are not sorry, general, to do me this last act of courtesy,’ said
the Chevalier; ‘and, on my part, I thank you for it. You have taught me
the principle on which men on the scaffold feel forgiveness and kindness
even for their executioner. Farewell!’
They were seated in the boat, which presently pulled off from the land.
The Oxford divine broke out into a loud benediction, in terms which
General Campbell was too generous to criticize at the time, or to
remember afterwards;--nay, it is said, that, Whig and Campbell as he
was, he could not help joining in the universal Amen! which resounded
from the shore.
CONCLUSION, BY DR. DRYASDUST
IN A LETTER TO THE AUTHOR OF WAVERLEY
I am truly sorry, my worthy and much-respected sir, that my anxious
researches have neither, in the form of letters, nor of diaries or other
memoranda, been able to discover more than I have hitherto transmitted,
of the history of the Redgauntlet family. But I observe in an old
newspaper called the WHITEHALL GAZETTE, of which I fortunately possess a
file for several years, that Sir Arthur Darsie Redgauntlet was
presented to his late Majesty at the drawing-room, by Lieut.-General
Campbell--upon which the editor observes, in the way of comment, that
we were going, REMIS ATQUE VELIS, into the interests of the Pretender,
since a Scot had presented a Jacobite at Court. I am sorry I have not
room (the frank being only uncial) for his further observations, tending
to show the apprehensions entertained by many well-instructed persons of
the period, that the young king might himself be induced to become one
of the Stuarts’ faction,--a catastrophe from which it has pleased Heaven
to preserve these kingdoms.
I perceive also, by a marriage-contract in the family repositories, that
Miss Lilias Redgauntlet of Redgauntlet, about eighteen months after the
transactions you have commemorated, intermarried with Alan Fairford,
Esq., Advocate, of Clinkdollar, who, I think, we may not unreasonably
conclude to be the same person whose name occurs so frequently in
the pages of your narration. In my last excursion to Edinburgh, I was
fortunate enough to discover an old caddie, from whom, at the expense
of a bottle of whisky and half a pound of tobacco, I extracted the
important information, that he knew Peter Peebles very well, and had
drunk many a mutchkin with him in Caddie Fraser’s time. He said ‘that
he lived ten years after King George’s accession, in the momentary
expectation of winning his cause every day in the session time, and
every hour in the day, and at last fell down dead, in what my informer
called a ‘perplexity fit,’ upon a proposal for a composition being made
to him in the Outer House. I have chosen to retain my informer’s phrase,
not being able justly to determine whether it is a corruption of the
word apoplexy, as my friend Mr. Oldbuck supposes, or the name of some
peculiar disorder incidental to those who have concern in the courts of
law, as many callings and conditions of men have diseases appropriate to
themselves. The same caddie also remembered Blind Willie Stevenson, who
was called Wandering Willie, and who ended his days ‘unco beinly, in Sir
Arthur Redgauntlet’s ha’ neuk.’ ‘He had done the family some good turn,’
he said, ‘specially when ane of the Argyle gentlemen was coming down on
a wheen of them that had the “auld leaven” about them, and wad hae taen
every man of them, and nae less nor headed and hanged them. But Willie,
and a friend they had, called Robin the Rambler, gae them warning, by
playing tunes such as “The Campbells are coming” and the like, whereby
they got timeous warning to take the wing.’ I need not point out to your
acuteness, my worthy sir, that this seems to refer to some inaccurate
account of the transactions in which you seem so much interested.
Respecting Redgauntlet, about whose subsequent history you are more
particularly inquisitive, I have learned from an excellent person
who was a priest in the Scottish Monastery of Ratisbon, before its
suppression, that he remained for two or three years in the family of
the Chevalier, and only left it at last in consequence of some discords
in that melancholy household. As he had hinted to General Campbell, he
exchanged his residence for the cloister, and displayed in the latter
part of his life, a strong sense of the duties of religion, which in
his earlier days he had too much neglected, being altogether engaged in
political speculations and intrigues. He rose to the situation of prior,
in the house which he belonged to, and which was of a very strict order
of religion. He sometimes received his countrymen, whom accident brought
to Ratisbon, and curiosity induced to visit the Monastery of ------. But
it was remarked, that though he listened with interest and attention,
when Britain, or particularly Scotland, became the subject of
conversation, yet he never either introduced or prolonged the subject,
never used the English language, never inquired about English affairs,
and, above all, never mentioned his own family. His strict observation
of the rules of his order gave him, at the time of his death, some
pretensions to be chosen a saint, and the brethren of the Monastery
of ------ made great efforts for that effect, and brought forward some
plausible proofs of miracles. But there was a circumstance which threw
a doubt over the subject, and prevented the consistory from acceding
to the wishes of the worthy brethren. Under his habit, and secured in
a small silver box, he had worn perpetually around his neck a lock
of-hair, which the fathers avouched to be a relic. But the Avvocato del
Diabolo, in combating (as was his official duty) the pretensions of
the candidate for sanctity, made it at least equally probable that the
supposed relic was taken from the head of a brother of the deceased
prior, who had been executed for adherence to the Stuart family in
1745-6; and the motto, HAUD OBLIVISCENDUM, seemed to intimate a tone
of mundane feeling and recollection of injuries, which made it at least
doubtful whether, even in the quiet and gloom of the cloister,
Father Hugo had forgotten the sufferings and injuries of the House of
Redgauntlet.
June 10, 1824,
NOTES
NOTE 1.--THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS
In explanation of this circumstance, I cannot help adding a note not
very necessary for the reader, which yet I record with pleasure, from
recollection of the kindness which it evinces. In early youth I resided
for a considerable time in the vicinity of the beautiful village
of Kelso, where my life passed in a very solitary manner. I had few
acquaintances, scarce any companions, and books, which were at the time
almost essential to my happiness, were difficult to come by. It was then
that I was particularly indebted to the liberality and friendship of
an old lady of the Society of Friends, eminent for her benevolence and
charity. Her deceased husband had been a medical man of eminence,
and left her, with other valuable property, a small and well-selected
library. This the kind old lady permitted me to rummage at pleasure, and
carry home what volumes I chose, on condition that I should take, at the
same time, some of the tracts printed for encouraging and extending the
doctrines of her own sect. She did not even exact any promise that I
would read these performances, being too justly afraid of involving me
in a breach of promise, but was merely desirous that I should have
the chance of instruction within my reach, in case whim, curiosity, or
accident, might induce me to have recourse to it.
NOTE 2.--THE PERSECUTORS
The personages here mentioned are most of them characters of historical
fame; but those less known and remembered may be found in the tract
entitled, ‘The Judgment and Justice of God Exemplified, or, a Brief
Historical Account of some of the Wicked Lives and Miserable Deaths of
some of the most remarkable Apostates and Bloody Persecutors, from
the Reformation till after the Revolution.’ This constitutes a sort of
postscript or appendix to John Howie of Lochgoin’s ‘Account of the Lives
of the most eminent Scots Worthies.’ The author has, with considerable
ingenuity, reversed his reasoning upon the inference to be drawn from
the prosperity or misfortunes which befall individuals in this world,
either in the course of their lives or in the hour of death. In the
account of the martyrs’ sufferings, such inflictions are mentioned only
as trials permitted by providence, for the better and brighter display
of their faith, and constancy of principle. But when similar afflictions
befell the opposite party, they are imputed to the direct vengeance of
Heaven upon their impiety. If, indeed, the life of any person obnoxious
to the historian’s censures happened to have passed in unusual
prosperity, the mere fact of its being finally concluded by death,
is assumed as an undeniable token of the judgement of Heaven, and, to
render the conclusion inevitable, his last scene is generally garnished
with some singular circumstances. Thus the Duke of Lauderdale is said,
through old age but immense corpulence, to have become so sunk in
spirits, ‘that his heart was not the bigness of a walnut.’
NOTE 3.--LAMENTATION FOR THE DEAD
I have heard in my youth some such wild tale as that placed in the
mouth of the blind fiddler, of which, I think, the hero was Sir Robert
Grierson of Lagg, the famous persecutor. But the belief was general
throughout Scotland that the excessive lamentation over the loss of
friends disturbed the repose of the dead, and broke even the rest of the
grave. There are several instances of this in tradition, but one struck
me particularly, as I heard it from the lips of one who professed
receiving it from those of a ghost-seer. This was a Highland lady, named
Mrs. C---- of B------, who probably believed firmly in the truth of an
apparition which seems to have originated in the weakness of her nerves
and strength of her imagination. She had been lately left a widow by her
husband, with the office of guardian to their only child. The young man
added to the difficulties of his charge by an extreme propensity for a
military life, which his mother was unwilling to give way to, while
she found it impossible to repress it. About this time the Independent
Companies, formed for the preservation of the peace of the Highlands,
were in the course of being levied; and as a gentleman named Cameron,
nearly connected with Mrs. C--, commanded one of those companies,
she was at length persuaded to compromise the matter with her son, by
permitting him to enter this company in the capacity of a cadet, thus
gratifying his love of a military life without the dangers of foreign
service, to which no one then thought these troops were at all liable to
be exposed, while even their active service at home was not likely to
be attended with much danger. She readily obtained a promise from her
relative that he would be particular in his attention to her son and
therefore concluded she had accommodated matters between her son’s
wishes and his safety in a way sufficiently attentive to both. She set
off to Edinburgh to get what was awanting for his outfit, and shortly
afterwards received melancholy news from the Highlands. The Independent
Company into which her son was to enter had a skirmish with a party of
caterans engaged in some act of spoil, and her friend the captain
being wounded, and out of the reach of medical assistance, died in
consequence. This news was a thunderbolt to the poor mother, who was at
once deprived of her kinsman’s advice and assistance, and instructed by
his fate of the unexpected danger to which her son’s new calling exposed
him. She remained also in great sorrow for her relative, whom she loved
with sisterly affection. These conflicting causes of anxiety,
together with her uncertainty, whether to continue or change her son’s
destination, were terminated in the following manner:--
The house in which Mrs. C---- resided in the old town of Edinburgh, was
a flat or story of a land accessible, as was then universal, by a common
stair. The family who occupied the story beneath were her acquaintances,
and she was in the habit of drinking tea with them every evening. It was
accordingly about six o’clock, when, recovering herself from a deep fit
of anxious reflection, she was about to leave the parlour in which she
sat in order to attend this engagement. The door through which she was
to pass opened, as was very common in Edinburgh, into a dark passage. In
this passage, and within a yard of her when she opened the door,
stood the apparition of her kinsman, the deceased officer, in his full
tartans, and wearing his bonnet. Terrified at what she saw, or thought
she saw, she closed the door hastily, and, sinking on her knees by
a chair, prayed to be delivered from the horrors of the vision. She
remained in that posture till her friends below tapped on the door,
to intimate that tea was ready. Recalled to herself by the signal, she
arose, and, on opening the apartment door, again was confronted by
the visionary Highlander, whose bloody brow bore token, on this second
appearance, to the death he had died. Unable to endure this repetition
of her terrors, Mrs. C---- sank on the door in a swoon. Her friends
below, startled with the noise, came upstairs, and, alarmed at the
situation in which they found her, insisted on her going to bed and
taking some medicine, in order to compose what they took for a nervous
attack. They had no sooner left her in quiet, than the apparition of
the soldier was once more visible in the apartment. This time she took
courage and said, ‘In the name of God, Donald, why do you haunt one who
respected and loved you when living?’ To which he answered readily, in
Gaelic, ‘Cousin, why did you not speak sooner? My rest is disturbed by
your unnecessary lamentation--your tears scald me in my shroud. I come
to tell you that my untimely death ought to make no difference in your
views for your son; God will raise patrons to supply my place and he
will live to the fullness of years, and die honoured and at peace.’ The
lady of course followed her kinsman’s advice and as she was accounted
a person of strict veracity, we may conclude the first apparition an
illusion of the fancy, the final one a lively dream suggested by the
other two.
NOTE 4.--PETER PEEBLES
This unfortunate litigant (for a person named Peter Peebles actually
flourished) frequented the courts of justice in Scotland about the year
1792, and the sketch of his appearance is given from recollection. The
author is of opinion that he himself had at one time the honour to be
counsel for Peter Peebles, whose voluminous course of litigation served
as a sort of assay-pieces to most young men who were called to the bar.
The scene of the consultation is entirely imaginary.
NOTE 5.--JOHN’S COFFEE-HOUSE
This small dark coffee-house, now burnt down, was the resort of such
writers and clerks belonging to the Parliament House above thirty years
ago as retained the ancient Scottish custom of a meridian, as it was
called, or noontide dram of spirits. If their proceedings were watched,
they might be seen to turn fidgety about the hour of noon, and exchange
looks with each other from their separate desks, till at length some one
of formal and dignified presence assumed the honour of leading the band,
when away they went, threading the crowd like a string of wild
fowl, crossed the square or close, and following each other into
the coffee-house, received in turn from the hand of the waiter, the
meridian, which was placed ready at the bar. This they did, day by day:
and though they did not speak to each other, they seemed to attach a
certain degree of sociability to performing the ceremony in company.
NOTE 6.--FISHING RIGHTS
It may be here mentioned, that a violent and popular attack upon what
the country people of this district considered as an invasion of their
fishing right is by no means an improbable fiction. Shortly after the
close of the American war, Sir James Graham of Netherby constructed a
dam-dyke, or cauld, across the Esk, at a place where it flowed through
his estate, though it has its origin, and the principal part of its
course, in Scotland. The new barrier at Netherby was considered as
an encroachment calculated to prevent the salmon from ascending into
Scotland, and the right of erecting it being an international question
of law betwixt the sister kingdoms, there was no court in either
competent to its decision. In this dilemma, the Scots people assembled
in numbers by signal of rocket lights, and, rudely armed with
fowling-pieces, fish-spears, and such rustic weapons, marched to the
banks of the river for the purpose of pulling down the dam-dyke objected
to. Sir James Graham armed many of his own people to protect his
property, and had some military from Carlisle for the same purpose.
A renewal of the Border wars had nearly taken place in the eighteenth
century, when prudence and moderation on both sides saved much tumult,
and perhaps some bloodshed. The English proprietor consented that a
breach should be made in his dam-dyke sufficient for the passage of the
fish, and thus removed the Scottish grievance. I believe the river has
since that time taken the matter into its own disposal, and entirely
swept away the dam-dyke in question.
NOTE 7.--STATE OF SCOTLAND
Scotland, in its half-civilized state, exhibited too many examples
of the exertion of arbitrary force and violence, rendered easy by the
dominion which lairds exerted over their tenants and chiefs over their
clans. The captivity of Lady Grange, in the desolate cliffs of Saint
Kilda, is in the recollection of every one. At the supposed date of the
novel also a man of the name of Merrilees, a tanner in Leith, absconded
from his country to escape his creditors; and after having slain his own
mastiff dog, and put a bit of red cloth in its mouth, as if it had died
in a contest with soldiers, and involved his own existence in as
much mystery as possible, made his escape into Yorkshire. Here he was
detected by persons sent in search of him, to whom he gave a portentous
account of his having been carried off and concealed in various places.
Mr. Merrilees was, in short, a kind of male Elizabeth Canning, but did
not trespass on the public credulity quite so long.
NOTE 8.--CONCEALMENTS FOR THEFT AND SMUGGLING
I am sorry to say that the modes of concealment described in the
imaginary premises of Mr. Trumbull, are of a kind which have been common
on the frontiers of late years. The neighbourhood of two nations having
different laws, though united in government, still leads to a multitude
of transgressions on the Border, and extreme difficulty in apprehending
delinquents. About twenty years since, as far as my recollection serves,
there was along the frontier an organized gang of coiners, forgers,
smugglers, and other malefactors, whose operations were conducted on a
scale not inferior to what is here described. The chief of the party was
one Richard Mendham a carpenter, who rose to opulence, although ignorant
even of the arts of reading and writing. But he had found a short
road to wealth, and had taken singular measures for conducting his
operations. Amongst these, he found means to build, in a suburb
of Berwick called Spittal, a street of small houses, as if for the
investment of property. He himself inhabited one of these; another, a
species of public-house, was open to his confederates, who held secret
and unsuspected communication with him by crossing the roofs of the
intervening houses, and descending by a trap-stair, which admitted them
into the alcove of the dining-room of Dick Mendham’s private mansion.
A vault, too, beneath Mendham’s stable, was accessible in the manner
mentioned in the novel. The post of one of the stalls turned round on
a bolt being withdrawn, and gave admittance to a subterranean place of
concealment for contraband and stolen goods, to a great extent. Richard
Mendham, the head of this very formidable conspiracy, which involved
malefactors of every kind, was tried and executed at Jedburgh, where the
author was present as Sheriff of Selkirkshire. Mendham had previously
been tried, but escaped by want of proof and the ingenuity of his
counsel.
NOTE 9--CORONATION OF GEORGE III
In excuse of what may be considered as a violent infraction of
probability in this chapter, the author is under the necessity of
quoting a tradition which many persons may recollect having heard. It
was always said, though with very little appearance of truth, that upon
the Coronation of the late George III, when the champion of England,
Dymock, or his representative, appeared in Westminster Hall, and in
the language of chivalry solemnly wagered his body to defend in single
combat the right of the young King to the crown of these realms, at the
moment when he flung down his gauntlet as the gage of battle, an unknown
female stepped from the crowd and lifted the pledge, leaving another
gage in room of it, with a paper expressing, that if a fair field of
combat should be allowed, a champion of rank and birth would appear with
equal arms to dispute the claim of King George to the British kingdoms.
The story is probably one of the numerous fictions which were circulated
to keep up the spirits of a sinking faction, The incident was, however,
possible, if it could be supposed to be attended by any motive adequate
to the risk, and might be imagined to occur to a person of Redgauntlet’s
enthusiastic character. George III, it is said, had a police of his own,
whose agency was so efficient, that the sovereign was able to tell
his prime minister upon one occasion, to his great surprise, that the
Pretender was in London. The prime minister began immediately to talk of
measures to be taken, warrants to be procured, messengers and guards
to be got in readiness. ‘Pooh, pooh,’ said the good-natured sovereign,
since I have found him out, leave me alone to deal with him.’--‘And
what,’ said the minister, ‘is your Majesty’s purpose, in so important a
case?’--‘To leave the young man to himself,’ said George III; ‘and when
he tires he will go back again.’ The truth of this story does not depend
on that of the lifting of the gauntlet; and while the latter could be
but an idle bravado, the former expresses George Ill’s goodness of heart
and soundness of policy.
NOTE 10.--COLLIER AND SALTER
The persons engaged in these occupations were at this time bondsmen; and
in case they left the ground of the farm to which they belonged, and as
pertaining to which their services were bought or sold, they were liable
to be brought back by a summary process. The existence of this species
of slavery being thought irreconcilable with the spirit of liberty,
colliers and salters were declared free, and put upon the same footing
with other servants, by the Act 15 Geo. III chapter 28th. They were so
far from desiring or prizing the blessing conferred on them, that they
esteemed the interest taken in their freedom to be a mere decree on the
part of the proprietors to get rid of what they called head and harigald
money, payable to them when a female of their number, by bearing a
child, made an addition to the live stock of their master’s property.
GLOSSARY
ABOON, above.
AD LITEM, in law.
AD VINDICTAM PUBLICAM, for the public defence.
ADUST, looking as if burned or scorched.
AE, one.
AFFLATUS, breath, inspiration.
AIRT, direct.
ALCANDER, a Greek soothsayer.
ALDEBORONTIPHOSCOPHORNIO, a courtier in H. Carey’s burlesque,
CHRONONHOTONTHOLOGOS.
ALIMENTARY, nourishing.
ALQUIFE, an enchanter in the mediaeval romances of knight-errantry.
AMADIS, a hero of the romances, especially in Amadis of Gaul.
ANENT, about.
ANES, once.
ANNO DOMINI, in the year of the Lord.
ARGUMENTUM AD HOMINEM, AD FEMINAM, lit. ‘the argument to a man,
to a woman,’ refutation of a man’s argument by an example
drawn from his own conduct.
ARIES, earnest-money, a gift.
ARS LONGA, VITA BREVIS, art is long, life short.
ARS MEDENDI, art of medicine.
APPROBATE, approve.
ATLANTES, a character in ORLANDO FURIOSO.
AULD REEKIE, Edinburgh.
ADVOCATO DEL DIABOLO, lit. ‘the devil’s advocate’, one whose duty
it is to oppose the canonization of a person on whose behalf
claims to sanctity are made.
AWSOME, awful, fearful.
BACK-GANGING, behind hand in paying.
BACKSPAUL, the back of the shoulder.
BALLANT, a ballad, a fable.
BANNOCK, a flat, round cake.
BARLEY-BROO, barley-broth.
BARON-OFFICER, the magistrate’s officer in a burgh of barony.
BARTIZAN, a small overhanging turret, the battlements.
BEAUFET, cupboard.
BEAVER, the lower part of the helmet.
BEIN, comfortable.
BELISARIUS, a general of the Eastern Empire ungratefully treated
by the Emperor Justinian.
BENEDICTE, bless you.
BETIMES THE MORN, early in the morning.
BICKER, a wooden vessel for holding drink; a quarrel.
BILLIE, a term of familiarity, comrade.
BIRKIE, a smart fellow.
BIRLING, merry-making.
BIT, small.
BLATE, shy, bashful.
BLAWING, flattering.
BLEEZING, bragging.
BLUE-CAP, a Scotsman.
BOGLE, a ghost, a scarecrow.
BON VIVANTS, lovers of good living.
BONA ROBA, a showy wanton.
BONUS SOCIUS, good comrade.
BORREL, common, rude.
BRAID, broad.
BRASH, a sudden storm, an attack.
BRATTLE, a clattering noise, as of a horse going at full speed.
BRAW, brave, fine.
BRENT BROO, high brow.
BROCARD, maxim.
BROSE, oatmeal which has had boiling water poured upon it.
BROWN, a famous landscape gardener.
BROWST, a brewing.
BUCEPHALUS, the favourite horse of Alexander the Great.
BUCKIE, an imp, a fellow with an evil twist in his character.
BUFF NOR STYE, neither one thing nor another.
BUFFERS, pistols.
BUSK, deck up.
BY ORDINAR, extraordinary, uncommon.
BYE AND ATTOUR, over and above.
CADGER, a travelling dealer.
CADDIE, a porter, an errand-boy.
CAETERA PRORSUS IGNORO, in short, I know nothing of the rest.
CALLANT, a young lad.
CALLER, cool, fresh.
CANNY, shrewd, prudent, quiet.
CANTLE, fragment.
CAPERNOITED, crabbed, foolish.
CAPRICCIOS, a fanciful composition.
CAPRIOLE, a leap made by a horse without advancing.
CARDINAL, a woman’s cloak.
CARLINES, old women.
CATILINA OMNIUM, ETC. Catilina had surrounded himself with the
most vile and criminal company.
CAUSEWAY, path, roadway.
CAVALIERE SERVENTE, gentleman in attendance.
CAVE NE LITERAS, ETC. take care that you are not carrying
Bellerophon’s letters (letters unfavourable to the bearer).
CHACK, a slight repast.
CHANCY, safe, auspicious.
CHANGE-HOUSE, a small inn or ale-house.
CHANTER, the tenor or treble pipe in a bag-pipe.
CHAPE, a thin metal blade at the end of a scabbard.
CHAPEAU BRAS, a low, three-cornered hat.
CHOUGH, a bird of the crow family.
CHUCKY, fowl.
CHUCKY-STONES, small stones, a child’s game.
CLAP AND HOPPER, signs of the mill.
CLAVERS, gossip, idle talk.
CLEEK, lay hold on.
CLEIK IN, to join company.
CLOSE, an alley, a narrow way.
CLOSE-HEADS, the entry to an alley, a meeting-place for gossips.
CLOUR, to strike, to bump.
COBLE, a little boat.
COCKERNONY, top-knot.
COGIE, small wooden bowl.
COMMUNE FORUM, ETC. the common court is the common dwelling-place.
CORDWAIN, Spanish leather.
CORIOLANUS, a Roman patrician, who, being driven from the city,
took refuge with Aufidius, the leader of the Volsci.
COUP, fall, upset.
COURIER DE L’EUROPE, a newspaper.
COVYNE, artifice.
CRACK, gossip.
CRAIG, throat, neck.
CRAWSTEP, the steplike edges of a gable seen in some old houses.
CREEL, basket carried on the back.
CREMONY, Cremona [where the best fiddles were made].
CROWDER, fiddler.
CUR ME EXAMINAS QUERELIS TUIS?, why do you wear me out with your
complaints.
CURN, a very little.
DAFT, crazy.
DAIS, a canopy, a table placed above the others, a room of state.
DARGLE, dell.
DAURG, day’s work.
DE APICIBUS JURIS, from the high places of the law.
DE PERICULO ET COMMODO REI VENDITAE, concerning the risk and
profit of sales.
DEAD-THRAW, death-thraw.
DEBOSHED, debauched.
DEFORCEMENT--SPULZIE--SOUTHRIEF, legal terms for resisting an
officer of law.
DEIL, devil.
DELATE, accuse.
DELICT, misdemeanour, QUASI DELICT, apparent offence.
DEPONE, to testify.
DERNIER RESORT, last resort.
DIABLERIE, sorcery, witchcraft.
DILIGENCE, writ of execution, coach.
DING, to knock, beat down.
DIRDUM, uproar, disturbance.
DITTAY, an indictment.
DIVOT, thin turf used for thatching cottages.
DOCH AN DORROCH, the stirrup cup.
DOMINUS LITIS, one of the principals in a law suit.
DOOL, sorrow, sad consequences.
DOOR-CHEEK, door-post.
DOUCE, respectable.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE, persons of the drama.
DRAPPIT, fried.
DRIBBLE, a drop.
DRIFT, drift-snow.
DULCINEA, Don Quixote’s imaginary mistress.
DUNSTABLE, something simple and matter-of-fact.
DYVOUR, bankrupt.
EKE, addition.
EMBONPOINT, plumpness.
EN CROUPE, riding behind one another.
ET PER CONTRA, and on the other side.
EVITE, avoid.
EX COMITATE, out of courtesy.
EX MISERICORDIA, out of pity.
EXCEPTIO FIRMAT REGULAM, the exception proves the rule.
EXOTIC, of foreign origin.
FACTOR LOCO TUTORIS, an agent acting in place of a guardian.
FARDEL, burden.
FASH, FASHERIE, trouble.
FECK, space.
FEMME DE CHAMBRE, chamber-maid.
FIERI, to be made.
FLACON, a smelling bottle.
FLAP, gust.
FLIP, a drink consisting of beer and spirit sweetened.
FLORY, frothy.
FORBY, besides.
FORENSIC, legal.
FORFOUGHEN, out of breath, distressed.
FORPIT, fourth part of a peck.
FORTALICE, a small outwork.
FRIST, to postpone, give credit,
FUGIE, fugitive.
FUNCTUS OFFICIO, having finished my duties, ‘out of office’.
GABERLUNZIE, a beggar.
GAEN, gone.
GALLOWAY, a strong Scotch cob.
GANGREL, wandering, a vagrant.
GAR, to force, make.
GATE, way, road.
GAUGER, an exciseman.
GENTRICE, gentle blood.
GIFF-GAFF, give and take.
GIRDED, hooped like a barrel.
GIRN, to grin, cry.
GLAIKET, giddy, rash.
GLIFF, glimpse, moment,
GOWFF BA’, golf ball.
GRAINED, groaned.
GRANA INVECTA ET ILLATA, grain brought and imported.
GRAT, wept.
GRILLADE, a broiled dish.
GRIT, great.
GROSSART, gooseberry.
GRUE, to creep, shiver,
GUDESIRE, grandfather.
GUIDE, to deal with, to employ.
GUMPLE-FOISTED, sulky, sullen.
GWAY, very.
GYTES, contemptuous name for a young child, a brat.
HAFFLINS, half-grown.
HAILL, all, the whole.
HAIRST, harvest.
HAMESUCKEN, assaulting a person in his own house.
HAMSHACKLE, to fasten.
HANK, a hold.
HAP, to hop, turn from.
HARPOCRATES, an Egyptian god, supposed by the Greeks to be the
god of silence.
HAUGH, holm, low-lying flat ground.
HAULD, place of abode.
HAVINGS, behaviour.
HEFTED, closed, as a knife in its haft.
HELLICAT, extravagant, light-headed.
HEMPEY, rogue.
HET, hot.
HEUCK, sickle.
HINC ILLAE LACRYMAE, hence these tears.
HINNY, honey, a term of endearment.
HIPPOGRIFF, a fabulous winged animal, half horse and half griffin.
HODDIN-GREY, cloth manufactured from undyed wool.
HOMOLOGATING, ratifying, approving.
HOOKS, OFF THE, light-headed.
HOSE-NET, a small net used for rivulet fishing.
HOW-COME-SO, light-headed.
HUMOURSOME, subject to moods.
HUSSEY, lady’s needle-case.
HYSON, green tea from China.
IGNIS FATUUS, will o’ the wisp.
ILK, each; of the same name, as Redgauntlet of that Ilk
=Redgauntlet of Redgauntlet.
ILL-DEEDIE, mischievous.
ILL-FAUR’D, ugly, ill-favoured.
IN CIVILIBUS or CRIMINALIBUS, in civil or criminal causes.
IN FORO CONSCIENTIAE, in the assize of conscience.
IN MEDITATIONE FUGAE, meditating flight.
IN PRESENTIA DOMINORUM, before the Lords.
INCEDIT SICUT LEO VORANS, goeth about like a roaring lion.
INCOGNITA, unknown.
INFRA DIG, beneath one’s dignity.
INSTANTER, at once.
INTROMIT, to medldle with.
INVITA MINERVA, against my bent.
JACK, a metal pitcher.
JAZY, wig.
JET D’EAU, jet of water.
JORUM, a drinking-vessel, or the liquor in it.
JOW, to toll.
JURIDICAL, pertaining to a judge or to the courts.
KATTERFELTO, a famous quack.
KEEK, to look.
KEFFEL, a bad horse.
LAIGH, low.
LAND-LOUPER, runagate, vagabond.
LARES, household gods, the special divinities of a family.
LAP, leaped; fold.
LAVE, rest, remainder.
LAWING, inn reckoning.
LEAL, loyal, true.
LEASING-MAKING, lies, slander, seditious words.
LEASOWES, the estate of the poet Shenstone.
LEE-SIDE, the side of a vessel farthest from the point where the
wind blows.
LEESOME LANE, his dear self alone.
LEEVIN, living.
LEE WAY, arrears of work.
LEG, TO MAKE A, to bow.
LETTRES DE CACHET, sealed letters issued by the King of France,
conferring power over the liberty of others.
LEX AQUARUM, the law of the waters.
LIMMER, a loose woman, a jade.
LING, thin long grass, heather.
LOANING, a meadow, pasture where the cows were milked,
LOE, love.
LOON, fellow, rogue.
LOOPY, crafty.
LOUIS-D’OR, a French gold coin worth from 16s, 6d. to 18s. 9d.
LOUP, leap.
LOUP-THE-DYKE, giddy, runaway.
LOUP THE TETHER, breaking loose from restraint.
LOVELACE AND BELFORD, characters in CLARISSA HARLOWE.
LUCKY, a name given to an elderly dame.
LUG, the ear.
LUM, chimney.
MACER, a court official.
MAILING, a small farm or rented property.
MAILS, rents.
MALVERSATION, fraudulent tricks.
MANUMISSION, liberty.
MARCH, border.
MARE MAGNUM, the great sea.
MARIUS, a Roman general, leader in the civil war against Sulla.
MEAR, mare.
MENE, MENE, TEKEL, UPHARSIN, the writing seen by Belshazzar
(Daniel V. 25).
MENYIE, retinue.
MERIDIAN, noon; a mid-day drink.
MERK, an old Scottish coin=1s. 1 1/2d. in English money.
MESSAN, a lap-dog, a little dog.
MICKLE, much.
MIFFED, piqued.
MILLAR, Philip Millar, author of several works on gardening.
MINOS, a law-giver of Crete, afterwards set as a judge in Hades.
MISHANTER, mischief.
MISPRISION OF TREASON, concealment of treason.
MOIDART, a loch in Inverness, where Prince Charles Stuart landed,
1745.
MOIDORE, a gold coin of Portugal worth about L1 7s. 0d.
MORE SOLITO, in the accustomed manner.
MORE TUO, in your own way.
MUILS, slippers.
MUISTED, scented.
MUTCHKIN, English pint.
NE QUID NIMIS, do nothing in excess.
NEGATUR, lit. ‘it is denied,’ I deny it.
NEGOTIORUM GESTOR, manager of affairs.
NEREID, a sea-nymph.
NIGRI SUNT HYACINTHI, irises are dark flowers.
NIHIL NOVIT IN CAUSA, nothing is known of the case.
NIPPERKIN, a small cup, a liquid measure.
NOM DE GUERRE, professional name.
NOMINE DAMNI, in the name of damages.
NONJURING, not swearing allegiance to the government, loyal to the
Stuarts.
NOSCITUR A SOCIO, he is known by his friend.
NOVITER REPERTUM, newly discovered.
OHE, JAM SATIS, oh, enough.
OMNE IGNOTUM PRO TERRIBILI, the unknown is always held in terror.
OMNI SUSPICIONE MAJOR, above all suspicion.
ORESTES AND PYLADES, DAMON AND PYTHIAS, classical examples of
friendship.
ORIGO MALI, cause of the evil.
ORNATURE, adornment, decoration.
ORRA, odd.
OVERTURE, opening.
OWERLAY, cravat.
OYE, a grandson.
PACK OR PEEL, to traffic.
PANDE MANUM, hold out your hand.
PANDECTS, a digest of Roman law.
PAR EXCELLENCE, above all, specially.
PAR ORDONNANCE DU MEDECIN, by the doctor’s orders.
PARMA NON BENE SELECTA, a shield, or defence, not well chosen.
PAROCHINE, parish.
PATER NOSTER, Our Father, the Lord’s Prayer.
PATRIA POTESTAS, paternal authority.
PAWMIE, a stroke on the palm of the hand.
PEACH, betray, speak out.
PEEL-HOUSE, a small fortified house, or tower.
PEGASUS, the winged horse of the Muses.
PENDENTE LITE, whilst the case is proceeding.
PENDICLES, articles, small parts.
PER AMBAGES, by circumlocution, in a roundabout way.
PER CONTRA, on the other side.
PERDU, concealed, lost.
PERIPATETIC, walking, wandering.
PESSIMI EXEMPLI, the worst possible example.
PETTLE, a plough-staff.
PHALARIS’S BULL, a furnace shaped like a bull into which the
tyrant Phalaris used to cast his victims.
PISCATOR, fisherman.
PISTOLE, a gold coin worth about 16s.
PLACK, a small copper coin, equal to one-third of an English penny.
PLEACH, interweave.
PLICATIONS, folds, wrinkles.
PLOY, a frolic.
POCK-PUDDING, a contemptuous term applied to Englishmen
POINT D’ESPAGNE, Spanish lace.
POKE, pocket.
PORT ROYAL, a monastery near Paris which became the headquarters
of the Jansenists, the opponents of the Jesuits.
POSSE COMITATUS, the civil force of a county.
POUND SCOTS, worth about 1s. 8d. English money.
PRACTIQUES, practices of the profession.
PRECOGNITION, examination prior to prosecution.
PRECOGNOSCED, to take precognition of.
PRETERMIT, omit, pass by.
PURSUIVANTS, an officer-at-arms, in rank below a herald.
QUAERE, query, a question.
QUEAN, a young woman, a wench.
QUI VIVE, alert, cautious.
QUID, piece of tobacco to chew.
QUID TIBI CUM LYRA, what hast thou to do with the lyre?
QUORUM, the body of justices, so called from a word used in the
commission appointing them.
RANT, a noisy dance-tune.
RAPPAREE, an Irish plunderer; a worthless fellow,
RATIONE OFFICII, by virtue of his position.
RATTLING, lively, brisk.
RAX, stretch.
REAMING, frothing, foaming.
REDD, clear up, tidy.
REGIAM MAJESTATEM, a collection of Scotch laws.
REIVER, robber.
REMEDIUM JURIS, legal remedy.
RIGDUM-FUNNIDOS, a courtier in H. Carey’s burlesque,
CHRONONHOTONTHOLOGOS.
RIPE, search.
RUDAS, a scold, a virago.
RUG, a share, a good mouthful.
SANCTA WINIFREDA, ORA PRO NOBIS, Saint Winifred, pray for us.
SARTUM ATQUE TECTUM, repaired and covered.
SAT EST, it is enough.
SAWNEY, a nickname for a Scotchman.
SCARBOROUGH WARNING, the blow before the threat.
SCOWP, quaff.
SCRUB, the name of a footman in the BEAUX’ STRATAGEM (Geo.
Farquhar, 1704).
SCULDUDDERY, loose, immoral.
SEALGH, seal,
SEA-MAWS, sea-mews.
SECUNDUM ARTEM, according to the rules of his art.
SEDERUNT, a sitting of the courts.
SEMPLE, simple, not of gentle birth,
SHILPIT, weak; poor, shabby.
SHINGLES, thin boards used for roofs.
SI NON CASTE, CAUTE TAMEN, if not for virtue’s sake, yet for
caution.
SIB, kin.
SIGMA, the Greek S.
SINE DIE, without a date, indefinitely.
SIS MEMOR MEI, be mindful of me.
SKELLOCH, screech.
SKINKER, a server of liquor.
SKIRL, to scream.
SKIVIE, harebrained.
SLEEKIT, smooth.
SLOKEN, quench.
SNEESHING, snuff.
SNELL, sharp, terrible.
SNICKERS, sniggers.
SOCIETAS EST MATER DISCORDIARUM, partnership is the mother of
quarrels.
SOLITAIRE, an ornament for the neck.
SOLON, the law-giver of Athens.
SONSY, good-humoured, sensible.
SORT, to chastise; to manage.
SORTES VIRGILIANAE, Virgilian lots; opening the works of Virgil at
random and taking the first passage read for counsel.
SOUGH, a breath, a chant.
SOUPLE, active; supple in mind or body.
SOUTER’S CLOD, a kind of coarse black bread.
SPATTERDASHES, coverings for the legs to protect them from mud.
SPEER, ask.
SPLICE THE MAIN BRACE, have an extra allowance of spirits.
SPLORE, a frolic, quarrel.
SPRATTLE, struggle, scramble.
SPRING, a merry tune.
SPRUSH, spruce.
SPULE-BLADE, shoulder blade,
SPUNK, courage, fire: SPUNKS, matches.
STEND, take long steps.
STEWARTRY, territory in Scotland administered by a steward.
STIBBLER, a divinity student, a probationer.
STILTS, plough-handles.
STUNKARD, sullen, obstinate.
SUA QUEMQUE TRAHIT VOLUPTAS, his own peculiar pleasure allures
each.
SURTOUT, a tight-fitting, broad-skirted outer coat.
SWIPES, small beer.
TAES, toes.
TALIS QUALIS, of some kind.
TAM MARTE QUAM MERCURIO, as much devoted to Mars as to Mercury (as
much a soldier as a pleader).
TASS, a glass.
TAU, the Greek: T.
TERRA FIRMA, firm earth.
TESTE ME PER TOTUM NOCTEM VIGILANTE, I am witness as I was awake
all night.
TETE-A-TETE, a private conversation.
THAIRM, catgut.
THEMIS, the goddess of law and justice.
THIRLAGE, mortgaging of property.
THREAP, aver.
THUMBIKINS, thumbscrews, instruments of torture.
TIMOTHEUS, a famous musician.
TIPPENY, twopenny ale,
TIRTEAFUERA, a character in DON QUIXOTE, the doctor in Sancho
Panza’s island government.
TITHER, the other.
TOD, a bush, a fox.
TOOM, empty.
TOUR OUT, to look about.
TOY, a linen cap; a head-dress hanging down over the shoulders.
TRANCES, passages.
TUPTOWING, beating, from the Greek verb ‘tupto’, to strike.
TWALPENNY, one penny sterling.
TWASOME, a pair or couple.
TYNE, loss or forfeit.
TYRO, TYRONES, beginner, beginners; novice.
UNCO, very, uncommon, strange.
URGANDA, an enchantress in the romance of AMADIS OF GAUL.
USQUEBAUGH, whisky.
VADE RETRO, get thee behind me.
VALE, SIS MEMOR MEI, farewell, be mindful of me.
VARIUM ET MUTABILE SEMPER FEMINA, woman is always variable and
changeful.
VERBUM SACERDOTIS, the word of a priest.
VIA FACTI, by personal force.
VINCERE VINCENTEM, to conquer the conquering.
VINCO VINCENTEM, ERGO VINCO TE, I conquer the conquering,
therefore I conquer you.
VIOLER, a player on a viol.
VIR SAPIENTIA ET PIETATE GRAVIS, a man of much wisdom and piety.
VIS ANIMI, strength of soul.
VITIOUS, vicious, unruly.
VOET, Jan Voet, author of a book on the PANDECTS.
W.S., writer to the signet, a lawyer.
WALING, choosing.
WAME, stomach.
WANCHANCY, unlucky, dangerous.
WARE, spend.
WARK, work, trouble.
WAUR, worse.
WEARS, weirs, dams.
WEIGH-BANKS, scales.
WHIN, gorse.
WHITTLE, a small clasp-knife.
WITHERSHINS, backwards in their courses, in the contrary way.
WUD, mad.
WYND, yard, alley.
YAULD, active.
YELLOCH, yell.
YETTS, gates.
YILL, ale.