CHAPTER LVIII.

To sum the whole-the close of all.

DEAN SWIFT.

As Glossin died without heirs, and without payment of the price,

the estate of Ellangowan was again thrown upon the hands of Mr.

Godfrey Bertram's creditors, the right of most of whom was however

defensible, in case Henry Bertram should establish his character of

heir of entail. This young gentleman put his affairs into the

hands of Mr. Pleydell and Mr. Mac-Morlan, with one single proviso,

that though he himself should be obliged again to go to India,

every debt, justly and honourably due by his father, should be made

good to the claimant. Mannering, who heard this declaration,

grasped him kindly by the hand, and from that moment might be dated

a thorough understanding between them.

The hoards of Miss Margaret Bertram, and the liberal assistance of

the Colonel, easily enabled the heir to make provision for payment

of the just creditors of his father, while the ingenuity and

research of his law friends detected, especially in the accounts of

Glossin, so many overcharges as greatly diminished the total

amount. In these circumstances the creditors did not hesitate to

recognise Bertram's right, and to surrender to him the house and

property of his ancestors. All the party repaired from Woodbourne

to take possession, amid the shouts of the tenantry and the

neighbourhood; and so eager was Colonel Mannering to superintend

certain improvements which he had recommended to Bertram, that he

removed with his family from Woodbourne to Ellangowan, although at

present containing much less and much inferior accommodation.

The poor Dominie's brain was almost turned with joy on returning to

his old habitation. He posted upstairs, taking three steps at

once, to a little shabby attic, his cell and dormitory in former

days, and which the possession of his much superior apartment at

Woodbourne had never banished from his memory. Here one sad

thought suddenly struck the honest man--the books!--no three rooms

in Ellangowan were capable to contain them. While this qualifying

reflection was passing through his mind, he was suddenly summoned

by Mannering to assist in calculating some proportions relating to

a large and splendid house, which was to be built on the site of

the New Place of Ellangowan, in a style corresponding to the

magnificence of the ruins in its vicinity. Among the various rooms

in the plan, the Dominie observed, that one of the largest . vas

entitled THE LIBRARY; and close beside was a snug well-proportioned

chamber, entitled, MR. SAMPSON'S APARTMENT.--"Prodigious,

prodigious, pro-di-gi-ous!" shouted the enraptured Dominie.

Mr. Pleydell had left the party for some time; but he returned,

according to promise, during the Christmas recess of the courts.

He drove up to Ellangowan when all the family were abroad but the

Colonel, who was busy with plans of buildings and pleasure-grounds,

in which he was well skilled, and took great delight.

"Ah ha!" said the counsellor, "so here you are! Where are the

ladies? where is the fair Julia?"

"Walking out with young Haziewood, Bertram, and Captain Delaserre,

a friend of his, who is with us just now. They are gone to plan

out a cottage at Derncleugh. Well, have you carried through your

law business?"

"With a wet finger," answered the lawyer; "got our youngster's

special service retoured into Chancery. We had him served heir

before the macers."

"Macers? who are they?"

"Why, it is a kind of judicial Saturnalia. You must know, that one

of the requisites to be a macer, or officer in attendance upon our

supreme court, is, that they shall be men of no knowledge."

"Very well!"

"Now, our Scottish legislature, for the joke's sake I suppose, have

constituted those men of no knowledge into a peculiar court for

trying questions of relationship and descent, such as this business

of Bertram, which often involve the most nice and complicated

questions of evidence."

"The devil they have? I should think that rather inconvenient,"

said Mannering.

"Oh, we have a practical remedy for the theoretical absurdity. One

or two of the judges act upon such occasions as prompters and

assessors to their own doorkeepers. But you know what Cujacius

says, 'Multa sunt in moribus dissentanea, multa sine ratione.'

[*The singular inconsistency hinted at is now, in a great degree,

removed] However, this Saturnalian court has done our business; and

a glorious batch of claret we had afterwards at Walker's.

Mac-Morlan will stare when he sees the bill."

"Never fear," said the Colonel, "we'll face the shock, and

entertain the county at my friend Mrs. Mac-Candlish's to boot."

"And choose Jock Jabos for your master of horse?" replied the

lawyer.

"Perhaps I may."

"And where is Dandie, the redoubted Lord of Liddesdale?" demanded

the advocate.

"Returned to his mountains; but he has promised Julia to make a

descent in summer, with the good wife, as he calls her, and I don't

know how many children."

"Oh, the curly-headed varlets! I must come to play at Blind Harry

and Hy Spy with them.--But what is all this?" added Pleydell,

taking up the plans;--"tower in the centre to be an imitation of

the Eagle Tower at Caernarvon--corps de logis--the

devil!--wings--wings? why, the house will take the estate of

Ellangowan on its back, and fly away with it!"

"Why then, we must ballast it with a few bags of Sicca rupees,"

replied the Colonel.

"Aha! sits the wind there? Then I suppose the young dog carries off

my mistress Julia?"

"Even so, counsellor."

"These rascals, the post-nati, get the better of us of the old

school at every turn," said Mr. Pleydell. "But she must convey

and make over her interest in me to Lucy."

"To tell you the truth, I am afraid your flank will be turned there

too," replied the Colonel.

"Indeed?"

"Here has been Sir Robert Hazlewood," said Mannering, "upon a visit

to Bertram, thinking, and deeming, and opining--"

"O Lord I pray spare me the worthy Baronet's triads!"

"Well, sir," continued Mannering to make short, he conceived that

as the property of Singleside lay like a wedge between two farms of

his, and was four or five miles separated from Ellangowan,

something like a sale, or exchange, or arrangement might take

place. to the mutual convenience of both parties."

"Well, and Bertram--"

"Why, Bertram replied, that he considered the original settlement

of Mrs. Margaret Bertram as the arrangement most proper in the

circumstances of the family, and that therefore the estate of

Singleside was the property of his sister."

"The rascal!" said Pleydell, wiping his spectacles, "he'll steal my

heart as well as my mistress--Et puis?"

"And then, Sir Robert retired after many gracious speeches; but

last week he again took the field in force, with his coach and six

horses, his laced scarlet waistcoat, and best bob-wig--all very

grand, as the good-boy books say."

"Ay! and what was his overture?" Why, he talked with great form of

an attachment on the part of Charles Hazlewood to Miss Bertram."

"Ay, ay; he respected the little god Cupid when he saw him perched

on the Dun of Singleside. And is poor Lucy to keep house with that

old fool and his wife, who is just the knight himself in

petticoats?"

"No--we parried that. Singieside House is to be repaired for the

young people, and to be called hereafter Mount Hazlewood."

"And do you yourself, Colonel, propose to continue at Woodbourne?"

"Only till we carry these plans into effect. See, here's the plan

of my Bungalow, with all convenience for being separate and sulky

when I please."

"And, being situated, as I see, next door to the old castle, you

may repair Donagild's tower for the nocturnal contemplation of the

celestial bodies? Bravo, Colonel!"

"No, no, my dear counsellor! here ends THE ASTROLOGER."

NOTES

Note, 1.--MUMPS'S HA'.

IT is fitting to explain to the reader the locality described in

this chapter. There is, or rather I should say there was, a little

inn, called Mumps's Hall, that is, being interpreted, Beggar's

Hotel, near to Gilsland, which had not then attained its present

fame as a Spa. It was a hedge alehouse, where the Bolder farmers

of either country often stopped to refresh themselves and their

nags, in their way to and from the fairs and trysts in Cumberland,

and especially those who came from or went to Scotland, through a

barren and lonely district, without either road or pathway,

emphatically called the Waste of Bewcastle. At the period when the

adventures described in the novel are supposed to have taken place,

there were many instances of attacks by freebooters on those who

travelled through this wild, district, and Mumps's Ha' had a bad

reputation for harbouring the banditti who committed such

depredations.

An old and sturdy yeoman belonging to the Scottish side, by surname

an Armstrong or Elliot, but known by his soubriquet of Fighting

Charlie of Liddesdale, and still remembered for the courage he

displayed in the frequent frays which took place on the Border

fifty or sixty years since, had the following adventure in the

Waste, which suggested the idea of the scene in the text .

Charlie had been at Stagshaw-bank fair, had sold his sheep or

cattle, or whatever he had brought to market, and was on his return

to Liddesdale. There were then no country banks where cash could

be deposited, and bills received instead, which greatly encouraged

robbery in that wild country, as the objects of plunder were

usually fraught with gold. The robbers had spies in the fair, by

means of whom they generally knew whose purse was best stocked, and

who took a lonely and desolate road homeward,--those, in short, who

were best worth robbing, and likely to be most easily robbed.

All this Charlie knew full well; but he had a pair of excellent

pistols, and a dauntless heart. He stopped at Mumps's Ha',

notwithstanding the evil character of the place. His horse was

accommodated where it might have the necessary rest and feed of

corn; and Charlie himself, a dashing fellow, grew gracious with the

landlady, a buxom quean, who used all the influence in her power to

induce him to stop all night. The landlord was from home, she

said, and it was ill passing the Waste, as twilight must needs

descend on him before he gained the Scottish side, which was

reckoned the safest. But Fighting Charlie, though he suffered

himself to be detained later than was prudent, did not account

Mumps's Ha' a safe place to quarter in during the night. He tore

himself away, therefore, from Meg's good fare and kind words, and

mounted his nag, having first examined his pistols, and tried by

the ramrod whether the charge remained in them.

He proceeded a mile or two, at a round trot, When, as the Waste

stretched black before him apprehensions began to awaken in his

mind, partly arising out of Meg's unusual kindness, which he could

not help thinking had rather a suspicious appearance. He,

therefore, resolved to reload his pistols, lest the powder had

become damp; but what was his surprise, when he drew the charge, to

find neither powder nor ball, while each barrel had been carefully

filled with bore, up to the space which the loading had occupied!

and, the priming of the weapons being left untouched, nothing but

actually drawing and examining the charge could have discovered the

inefficiency of his arms till the fatal minute arrived when their

services were required. Charlie bestowed a hearty Liddesdale curse

on his landlady, and reloaded--his pistols with care and accuracy,

having now no doubt that he was to be waylaid and assaulted. He

was not far engaged in the Waste, which was then, and is now,

traversed only by such routes as are described in the text, when

two or three fellows, disguised and variously armed, started from a

moss-hag, while, by a glance behind him for, marching, as the

Spaniard says, with his beard on his shoulder, he reconnoitred in

every direction, Charlie instantly saw retreat was impossible, as

other two stout men appeared behind him at some distance. The

Borderer lost not a moment in taking his resolution, and boldly

trotted against his enemies in front, who called loudly on him to

stand and deliver; Charlie spurred on, and presented his pistol.

"D-n your pistol," cried the foremost robber; whom Charlie to his

dying day protested he believed to have been the landlord of

Mumps's Ha'. "D-n your pistol--care not a curse for it."--"Ay,

lad," said the deep voice of Fighting Charlie, "but the tow's out

now." He had no occasion to utter another word; the rogues,

surprised at finding a man of redoubted courage well armed, instead

of being defenceless, took to the moss in every direction, and he

passed on his way without further molestation.

The author has heard this story told by persons who received it

from Fighting Charlie himself; he has also heard that Mumps's Ha'

was afterwards the scene of some other atrocious villainy, for

which the people of the house suffered. But these are all tales of

at least half a century old, and the Waste has been for many years

as safe as any place in the kingdom.

Note II.--DANDIE DINMONT.

The author may here remark, that the character of Dandie Dinmont

was drawn from no individual. A dozen, at least, of stout

Liddesdale yeomen with whom he has been acquainted, and whose

hospitality he has shared in his rambles through that wild country,

at a time when it was totally inaccessible save in the manner

described in the text, might lay claim to be the prototype of the

rough, but faithful. hospitable, and generous farmer. But one

circumstance occasioned the name to be fixed upon a most

respectable individual of this class, now no more. Mr. James

Davidson of Hindlee, a tenant of Lord Douglas, besides the points

of blunt honesty, personal strength, and hardihood, designed to he

expressed in the character of Dandie Dinmont, had the humour of

naming a celebrated race of terriers which he, possessed, by the

generic names of Mustard and Pepper (according as their colour was

yellow, or grayish-black), without any other individual

distinction, except as according to the nomenclature in the text.

Mr. Davidson resided at Hindlee, a wild farm, on the very edge of

the Teviotdale mountains, and bordering close an Liddesdale, where

the rivers and brooks divide as they take their course to the

Eastern and Western seas. His passion for the chase, in all its

forms, but especially for fox-hunting, as followed in the fashion

described in the next chapter, in conducting which he was skilful

beyond most men in the South Highlands, was the distinguishing

point in his character.

When the tale on which these comments are written became rather

popular, the name of Dandie Dinmont was generally given to him,

which Mr. Davidson received with great good humour, only saying,

while he distinguished the author by the name applied to him in the

country, where his own is so common--"that the Sheriff had not

written about him mair than about other folk, but only about his

dogs." An English lady of high rank and fashion being desirous to

possess a brace of the celebrated Mustard and Pepper terriers,

expressed her wishes in a letter, which was literally addressed to

Dandie Dinmont, under which very general direction it reached Mr.

Davidson, who was justly proud of the application, and failed not

to comply with a request which did him and his favourite attend

ants so much honour.

"I trust I shall not he considered as offending the memory of a

kind and worthy man, if I mention a little trait of character which

occurred in Mr. Davidson's last illness. I use the words of the

excellent clergyman who attended him, who gave the account to a

reverend gentleman of the same persuasion :--

"I read to Mr. Davidson the very suitable and interesting truths

you addressed to him. He listened to them with great seriousness,

and has uniformly displayed a deep concern about his soul's

salvation. He died on the first Sabbath of the year (1820); an

apoplectic stroke deprived him in an instant of all sensation, but

happily his brother was at his bed-side, for he had detained him

from the meeting-house that day to be near him, although he felt

himself not much worse than usual.--So you have got the last little

Mustard that the hand of Dandie Dinmont bestowed.

"His ruling passion was strong even on the eve of death. Mr.

Baillie's fox-bounds had started a fox opposite to his window a few

weeks ago, and as soon as he heard the sound of the dogs, his eyes

glistened; he insisted on getting out of bed, and with much

difficulty got to the window, and there enjoyed the fun, as he

called it. When I came down to ask for him, he said, 'he had seen

Reynard, but had not seen his death. If it had been the will of

Providence,' he added, 'I would have liked to have been after him;

but I am glad that I got to the window, and am thankful for what I

saw, for it has done me a great deal of good.' Notwithstanding

these eccentricities (adds the sensible and liberal clergyman), I

sincerely hope and believe he has gone to a better world, and

better company and enjoyments."

If some part of this little narrative may excite a smile, it is one

which is consistent with the most perfect respect for the

simple-minded invalid, and his kind and judicious religious

instructor, who, we hope, will not he displeased with our giving we

trust, a correct edition of an anecdote which has been pretty

generally circulated. The race of Pepper and Mustard are in the

highest estimation at this day, not only for vermin-killing, but

for intelligence and fidelity. Those who, like the author, possess

a brace of them, consider them as very desirable companions.

Note III.--Lum Cleeks.

The cleek here intimated is the iron book, or hooks, depending from

the chimney of a Scottish cottage, on which the pot is suspended

when boiling. The same appendage is often called the crook. The

salmon is usually dried by hanging it up, after being split and

rubbed with salt, in the smoke of the turf fire above the cleeks,

where it is said to reist, that preparation being so termed. The

salmon thus preserved is eaten as a delicacy, under the name of

kipper, a luxury to which Dr. Redgill has given his sanction as an

ingredient of the Scottish breakfast.--See the excellent novel

entitled Marriage.

Note IV.--CLAN SURNAMES.

The distinction of individuals by nicknames when they possess no

property, is still common on the Border, and indeed necessary, from

the number of persons having the same name. In the small village

of Lustruther, in Roxhurghshire, there dwelt, in the memory of man,

four inhabitants, called Andrew, or Dandie Oliver. They were

distinguished as Dandie Eassil-gate, Dandie Wassil-gate, Dandie

Thumbie, and Dandie Dumbie. The two first had their names from

living eastward and westward in the street of the village; the

third for something peculiar in the conformation of his thumb; the

fourth from his taciturn habits.

It is told as a well-known jest, that a beggar woman, repulsed from

door to door as she solicited quarters through a village of

Annandale, asked, in her despair, if there were no Christians in

the place. To which the hearers, concluding that she inquired for

some persons so surnamed, answered, "Na, na, there are nae

Christians here; we are a' Johnston and Jardines."

Note V.--GIPSY SUPERSTITIONS.

The mysterious rites in which Meg Merrilies is described as

engaging, belong to her character as a queen of her race. All know

that gipsies in every country claim acquaintance with the gift of

fortune-telling; but, as is often the case, they are liable to the

superstitions of which they avail themselves in others. The

correspondent of Blackwood, quoted in the: Introduction to this

tale, gives us some information on the subject of their credulity.

"I have ever understood," he says, speaking of the Yetholm gipsies,

"that they are extremely superstitious--carefully noticing the

formation of the clouds, the flight of particular birds, and the

soughing of the winds, before attempting any enterprise. They have

been known for several successive days to turn back with their

loaded carts, asses, and children, on meeting with persons whom

they considered of unlucky aspect; nor do they ever proceed on

their summer peregrinations without some propitious omen of their

fortunate return.

"They also burn the clothes of their dead, not so much from any

apprehension of infection being communicated by them, as the

conviction that the very circumstance of wearing them would shorten

the days of their living. They likewise carefully watch the corpse

by night and day till the time of interment, and conceive that 'the

deil tinkles at the lykewake' of those who felt in their dead-thraw

the agonies and terrors of remorse."

These notions are not peculiar to the gipsies; but having been once

generally entertained among the Scottish common people, are now

only found among those who are the most rude in their habits, and

most devoid of instruction. The popular idea, that the protracted

struggle between life and death is painfully prolonged by keeping

the door of the apartment shut, was received as certain by the

superstitious eld of Scotland. But neither was it to be thrown

wide open. To leave the door ajar, was the plan adopted by the old

crones who understood the mysteries of deathbeds and lykewakes. In

that case, there was room for the imprisoned spirit to escape; and

yet an obstacle, we have been assured, was offered to the entrance

of any frightful form which might otherwise intrude itself. The

threshold of a habitation was in some sort a sacred limit, and the

subject of much superstition. A bride, even to this day, is always

lifted over it, a rule derived apparently from the Romans.

Note VI.--TAPPIT HEN.

The Tappit Hen contained three quarts of claret--

Weel she loed a Hawick gill, And leugh to see a Tappit Hen.

I have seen one of these formidable stoups at Provost Haswell's, at

Jedburgh, in the days of yore. It was a pewter measure, the claret

being in ancient days served from the tap, and had the figure of a

hen upon the lid. In later times, the name was given to a glass

bottle of the same dimensions. These are rare apparitions among

the degenerate topers of modern days.

Note VII.--CONVIVIAL HABITS OF THE SCOTTISH BAR.

The account given by Mr. Pleydell, of his sitting down in the midst

of a revel to draw an appeal case, was taken from a story told me

by an aged gentleman, of the elder President Dundas of Arniston

(father of the younger President, and of Lord Melville). It had

been thought very desirable, while that distinguished lawyer was

King's counsel, that his assistance should be obtained in drawing

an appeal case, which, as occasion for such writings then rarely

occurred, was held to be matter of great nicety. The solicitor

employed for the appellant, attended by my informant acting as his

clerk, went to the Lord Advocate's chambers in the Fishmarket

Close, as I think. It was Saturday at noon, the Court was just

dismissed, the Lord Advocate had changed his dress and booted

himself, and his servant and horses were at the foot of the close

to carry him to Arniston. It was scarcely possible to get him to

listen to a word respecting business. The wily agent, however, on

pretence of asking one or two questions, which would not detain him

half an hour, drew his Lordship, who was no less an eminent bon

vivant than a lawyer of unequalled talent, to take a whet at a

celebrated tavern, when the learned counsel became gradually

'Involved in a spirited discussion of the law points of the case.

At length it occurred to him, that he might as well ride to

Arniston in the cool of the evening. The horses were directed to he

put in the stable, but not to be unsaddled. Dinner was ordered,

the law was laid aside for a time, and the bottle circulated very

freely. At nine o'clock at night, after he bad been honouring

Bacchus for so many hours, the Lord Advocate ordered his horses to

be unsaddled,--paper, pen, and ink were brought--he began to

dictate the appeal case--and continued at his task till four

o'clock the next morning. By next day's post, the solicitor sent

the case to London, a chef-d'oeuvre of its kind; and in which, my

informant assured me, it was not necessary on revisal to correct

five words. I am not, therefore, conscious of having overstepped

accuracy in describing the manner in which Scottish lawyers of the

old time occasionally united the worship of Bacchus with that of

Themis. My informant was Alexander Keith, Esq., grandfather to my

friend, the present Sir Alexander Keith of Ravelstone, and

apprentice at the time to the writer who conducted the cause.

Note VIII.--LORD MONBODDO,

The Burnet, whose taste for the evening meal of the ancients is

quoted by Mr. Pleydell, was the celebrated metaphysician and

excellent man, Lord Monboddo, whose coenae will not be soon

forgotten by those who have shared his classic hospitality. As a

Scottish judge, he took the designation of his family estate. His

philosophy, as is well known, was of a fanciful and somewhat

fantastic character; but his learning was deep, and he was

possessed of a singular power of eloquence, which reminded the

hearer of the os rotundum of the Grove ,or Academe.

Enthusiastically partial to classical habits, his entertainments

were always given in the evening, when there was a circulation of

excellent Bordeaux, in flasks garlanded with roses, which were also

strewed on the table after the manner of Horace. The, best

society, whether in respect of rank or literary distinction, was

always to be found in St. John's Street, Canongate. The

conversation of the excellent old man, his high, gentleman-like,

chivalrous spirit, the learning and wit with which he defended his

fanciful paradoxes, the kind and liberal spirit of his hospitality,

must render these noctes coenaeque dear to all who, like the author

(though then young), had the honour of sitting at his board.

Note IX.--LAWYERS' SLEEPLESS NIGHTS.

It is probably true, as observed by Counsellor Pleydell, that a

lawyer's anxiety about his case, supposing him to have been some

time in practice, will seldom disturb his rest or digestion.

Clients will, however, sometimes fondly entertain a different

opinion. I was told by an excellent judge, now no more, of a

country gentleman, who, addressing his leading counsel, my

informer, then an advocate in great practice, on the morning of the

day on which the case was to be pleaded, said, with singular

bonhomie, "Weel, my lord (the counsel was Lord Advocate), "the

awful day is come at last. I have nae been able to sleep a wink

for thinking of it--nor, I dare say your Lordship either."

ADDITIONAL NOTE

GALWEGIAN LOCALITIES AND PERSONAGES WHICH HAVE BEEN SUPPOSED TO BE

ALLUDED TO IN THE NOVEL.

An old English proverb says, that more know Torn Fool than Tom Fool

knows; and the influence of the adage seems to extend to works

composed under the influence of an idle or foolish planet. Many

corresponding circumstances are detected by readers, of which the

author did not suspect the existence. He must, however, regard it

as a great compliment, that in detailing incidents purely

imaginary, he has been so fortunate in approximating reality, as to

remind his readers of actual occurrences. It is therefore with

pleasure he notices some pieces of local history and tradition,

which have been supposed to coincide with the fictitious persons.

incidents, and scenery of Guy Mannering.

The prototype of Dirk Hatteraick is considered as having been a

Dutch skipper called Yawkins. This man was well known on the coast

of Galloway and Dumfriesshire, as sole proprietor and master of a

Buckkar, or smuggling lugger, called the Black Prince. Being

distinguished by his nautical skill and intrepidity, his vessel was

frequently freighted, and his own services employed, by French,

Dutch, Manx, and Scottish smuggling companies.

A person well known by the name of Buckkar-tea, from having been a

noted smuggler of that article, and also by that of Bogle-Bush, the

place of his residence, assured my kind informant, Mr. Train, that

he had frequently seen upwards of two hundred Lingtow-men assemble

at one time, and go off into the interior of the country, fully

laden with contraband goods.

In those halcyon days of the free trade, the fixed price for

carrying a box of tea, or bale of tobacco, from the coast of

Galloway to Edinburgh, was fifteen shillings, and a man with horses

carried four such packages. The trade was entirely destroyed by

Mr. Pitt's celebrated commutation law, which, by reducing the

duties upon excisable articles, enabled lawful dealer to compete

with the smuggler. The statute was called in Galloway and

Dumfriesshire, by those who had thriven upon the contraband trade,

"the burning and starving act."

Sure of such active assistance on shore, Yawkins demeaned himself

so boldly, that his mere name was a terror to the officers of the

revenue. He availed himself of the fears which presence inspired

on one particular night, when, happening to be ashore with a

considerable quantity of goods in his sole custody, a strong party

of excisemen came down on him. Far from shunning the attack,

Yawkins sprung forward, shouting, "Come on, my lads; Yawkins is

before you." The revenue officers were intimidated, and

relinquished their prize, though defended only by the courage and

address of a single man. On his proper element, Yawkins was

equally successful. one occasion, he was landing his cargo at the

Manxman's lake, near Kirkcudbright, when two revenue cutters (the

Pigmy and the Dwarf) hove in sight at once on different tacks, the

coming round by the Isles of Fleet, the other between the point of

Rueberry and the Muckle Ron. The dauntless free-trader instantly

weighed anchor, and bore down right between the luggers, so close

that he tossed his hat on the deck of the one and his wig on that

of the other, hoisted a cask to his maintop, to show his

occupation, and bore away under an extraordinary pressure of

canvas, without receiving injury. To account for these and other

hair-breadth escapes, popular superstition alleged that Yawkins

insured his celebrated Buckkar by compounding with the devil for

one-tenth of his crew every voyage. How they arranged the

separation of the stock and tithes, is left to our conjecture. The

Buckkar was perhaps called the Black Prince in honour of the

formidable insurer.

The Black Prince used to discharge her cargo at Luce, Balcarry, and

elsewhere on the coast; but her owner's favourite landing-places

were at the entrance to the Dee and the Cree, near the old Castle

of Rueberry, about six miles below Kirkcudbriglit. There is a cave

of large dimensions in the vicinity of Rueberry, which, from its

being frequently used by Yawkins, and his supposed connection with

the smugglers on the shore, is now called Dirk Hatteraick's cave.

Strangers who visit this place, the scenery of which is highly

romantic, are also shown, under the name of the Gauger's Loup, a

tremendous precipice, being the same, it is asserted, from which

Kennedy was precipitated.

Meg Merrilies is in Galloway considered as having had her origin in

the traditions concerning the celebrated Flora Marshal, one of the

royal consorts of Willie Marshal, more commonly called the Caird of

Barullion, King of the Gipsies of the Western Lowlands. That

potentate was himself deserving of notice, from the following

peculiarities. He was born in the parish of Kirkmichael, about the

year 1671; and as he died at Kirkcudbright, 23rd November, 1792,

he must then have been in the one hundred and twentieth year of his

age. It cannot he said that this unusually long lease of existence

was noted by any peculiar excellence of conduct or habits of life.

Willie had been pressed or enlisted in the army seven times; and

had deserted as often; besides three times running away from the

naval service. He had been seventeen times lawfully married; and

besides such a reason ably large share of matrimonial comforts,

was, after his hundredth year, the avowed father of four children,

by less legitimate affections. He subsisted in his extreme old age

by a pension from the present Earl of Selkirk's grandfather. Will

Marshal is buried in Kirkcudbright Church, where his monument is

still shown, decorated with a scutcheon, suitably blazoned with two

tups' horns and two cutty spoons.

In his youth he occasionally took an evening walk on the highway,

with the purpose of assisting travellers by relieving them of the

weight of their purses. On one occasion, the Caird of Barullion

robbed the Laird of Bargally, at a place between Carsphairn and

Dalmellington. His purpose was not achieved without a severe

struggle, in which the Gipsy lost his bonnet, and was obliged to

escape, leaving it on the road. A respectable farmer happened to

be the next passenger, and seeing the bonnet, alighted, took it up,

and rather imprudently put it on his own head. At this instant,

Bargally came up with some assistants, and recognising the bonnet,

charged the farmer of Bantoberick with having robbed him, and took

him into custody. There being some likeness between the parties,

Bargally persisted in his charge, and though the respectability of

the farmer's character was proved or admitted, his trial before the

Circuit Court came on accordingly. The fatal bonnet lay on the

table of the court; Bargally swore that it was the identical

article worn by the man who robbed him; and he and others likewise

deponed that they had found the accused on the spot where the crime

was committed, with the bonnet on his head. The case looked

gloomily for the prisoner, and the opinion of the judge seemed

unfavourable. But there was a person in the court who knew well

both who did, and who did not, commit, the crime. This was the

Caird of Barullion, who, thrusting. himself up to the bar, near the

place where Bargally was standing, suddenly seized on the bonnet,

put it on his head, and looking the Laird full in the face, asked

him, with a voice which attracted the attention of the Court and

crowded audience--"Look at me, sir, and tell me, by the oath you

have sworn--Am not I the man who robbed you between Carsphairn and

Dalmellington?" Bargally replied, in great astonishment, "By

Heaven I you are the very man."--"You, see what sort of memory

this gentleman has," said the volunteer pleader: "he swears to the

bonnet, whatever features are under it. If you yourself, my Lord,

will put it on your head, he will be willing to swear that your

Lordship was the party who robbed him between Carsphairn and

Dalmellington." The tenant of Bantoberick was unanimously

acquitted, and thus Willie Marshal ingeniously contrived to save an

innocent man from danger, without incurring any himself, since

Bargally's evidence must have seemed to every one too fluctuating

to be relied upon.

While the King of the Gipsies was thus laudably occupied, his royal

consort, Flora, contrived, it is said, to steal the hood front the

Judge's gown; for which offence, combined with her presumptive

guilt as a gipsy, she was banished to New England, whence she never

returned.

Now, I cannot grant that the idea of Meg Merrilies was, in the

first concoction of the character, derived from Flora Marshal,

seeing I have already said she was identified with Jean Gordon, and

as I have not the Laird of Bargally's apology for charging the same

fact on two several individuals. Yet I am quite content that Meg

should he considered as a representative of her sect and class in

general--Flora, as well as others.

The other instances in which my Gallovidian readers have

obliged me, by assigning to

Airy nothing

A local habitation and a name,

shall also be sanctioned so far as the Author may be entitled to do

so. I think the facetious Joe Miller records a case pretty much in

point; where the keeper of a Museum, while showing, as he said, the

very sword with which Balaam was about to kill his ass, was

interrupted by one of the visitors, who reminded him that Balaam

was not possessed of a sword, but only wished for one. "True,

sir," replied the ready-witted Cicerone; "but this is the very sword

he wished for." The Author, in application of this story, has only

to add, that though ignorant of the coincidence between the

fictions of the tale and some real circumstances, he is contented

to believe he must unconsciously have thought or dreamed of the

last, while engaged in the composition of Guy Mannering.

Guy Mannering · 第 57 / 57 章