mind, I had as queer a dream as mortal ever dreamed. I thought I was out
on a fine summer's day in the month o' June, fishing in the stream a
little below Selkirk, where the Tweed is augmented by the Ettrick. I
was angling, I thought, with the artificial fly in the manner o' worm;
and, though the water was very turbid, trouts, like silly women, are so
apt to be taken with _appearances_, that that day multitudes o' them
eagerly seized the deadly barb, and only found out the deceit at the
precious cost o' their lives! I imagined I was particularly nice,
however, in choosing the fish I raised; for, as I drew them ashore upon
the nearest channel, instead o' rinning forward with alacrity and
seizing them, I thought I stood like an innocent, turning owre in my
mind whether the trouts were o' such a quality as to repay me for the
trouble o' stooping to take them up. Presently the fish, not being
properly banked, would have broken the gut and torn themselves from the
hook, leaving me in bewilderment and shame, to execrate my ain stupid
indecision. But this was not the worst o' it; for in some cases I
actually fancied I saw the same bonny detached trouts taken further down
the stream by other anglers, while a number, after a fierce struggle to
get free, would have been seen pining, with wounded hearts, at the
bottom o' the water, unable apparently either to feed or spawn. To add
to my vexation, Maister Brown, the stream began suddenly to clear, while
the fish, from the quantity o' food that covered the water, grew lazy,
and would not so muckle as move. At last I thought I threw in, for the
last time, in a fit o' desperation, and what should I do but hook a huge
salmon by the side fin! He immediately started in beautiful style for
his far hame, the sea; and as a fish so fastened was no better secured
than a young bluid-horse bridled by the middle instead o' the mouth, I
saw there was nothing for it but following him, and using my legs as
weel as my line. Away we accordingly went, at a dead heat, down the
Tweed--starting from about Ettrick foot, while the fish every now and
then would have sprung furiously out o' the water in his attempts to
shiver the line with his tail. It would not a' do, however; and, after
a great many hours' play, I thought we landed at "Coldstream Brig-end,"
where, finding him greatly exhausted, I drew him closer and closer to
the edge, whiles giving him a brattle out into the deep water, till
seeing him unable to give any further resistance, I gaffed and secured
him. But, judge o' my mortification, when, instead o' a bonny plump
salmon, a lean, deformed skate lay in the dead-thraws upon the white
gravel, to mock me for my pains! The bairns, at this moment, whom I
thought I saw distinctly on the bridge, setting up a wicked shout o'
derision, I awoke with the noise. Nor will I ever forget the agony that
I was in--the sweat ran from my body like a planet shower; and do what I
liked, I could not get the disagreeable image o' the ill-coloured toom
skate from my mind; for aye, as I dovered owre again, I was as suddenly
started by the presence o' the hateful fish laying itsel cheek by jowl
alongside o' me.
You may laugh as ye like, Maister Brown, at this strange dream; but,
when you hear how significantly the crowning event in the after-history
o' my life was prefigured by it, you'll see less cause for laughter, I'm
thinking. It might be half-a-year subsequent to the dream, or
thereabouts, that I happened to be in Wooler on a jaunt; and as the
place and the folk about it were muckle to my mind, I was induced to
protract my stay for several weeks. I soon made the acquaintance o'
several o' the young leddies o' the same _caste_ as mysel; and, among
others, I got uncommonly intimate with a Miss Cochrane, and her sister
Arabella. The former, I was told, had a hantle o' siller, besides rich
expectations from some auld aunt in Newcastle; while stories were
whispered o' the prodigious number o' offers she had refused, and that
he would be considered a lucky man who should make off with such a
capital prize! Here, thinks I, I've fallen on my feet at last; and, if I
do not impove the golden opportunity to my advantage, blame me. Miss
Cochrane continued shy, however; and I was beginning to despair o'
making any impression, when, one night, being at a party with her and
her sister, at the house o' a Mrs Cavendish, we a' three grew so
delighted with each other, that it was agreed, before parting, that, as
neither Arabella nor hersel had ever seen Coldstream, and as they had a
genteel cousin there, we should take a trip to it the next day in a
post-chaise. Off we accordingly went on the ensuing morning; and, as
soon as we reached the town, a messenger was despatched for the genteel
cousin, when presently a little dissipated-looking creature made his
appearance, who, at the sight o' his dear Sophia and Arabella, was like
to go into ecstatics. He did not need to be asked twice to join us at
dinner; for he moved about as if the inn had been his ain, and he fell
to the dainties we had ordered as greedily as a half-famished cur. The
wine and brandy, too, were sent down his throat as if his stomach had
been a sand-bed, and he kept drinking glasses with us every whip-touch,
first asking me to join him, and then his "dear cousins," till, long
before the dinner was owre, I had got so completely _rosined_, that I
could not weel make out where I was, or satisfactorily account for the
appearance o' the two strange women that sat on each side o' me. The
haze, however, that hung owre me began to go off in the course o' the
evening; and, when I cleared up sufficiently, the Coldstream birkie
proposed that we should sally out and get a sight o' the famed
"Brig-end," where the well-known Peter Moodie celebrated clandestine
marriages.
"I'm yer man for a spree," says I--for the brandy, by this time, had
flown to my head. And, starting to my feet, and seizing Miss Cochrane by
the arm--"Come, my dawty," cries I, "let us away down to the brig and
see Hymen's Altar!"
"Oh, Master Blackwell!" says madam, in girlish bashfulness, allowing
hersel at the same time to be led off "only think what our friends will
say, should they hear of _us_ being there! I would not for ten thousand
worlds they should know."
"Fiddledee, fiddledum!" shouted I; and off we strutted, uttering a' the
balderdash, and foolery in the world on our way down; and, when we came
to the Brig-end, I began to sing, at the very top o' my lungs,
"There's naebody coming to marry me."
But I had scarcely finished the first line o' the sang, when forward
stepped an auld man, with a snuffy white napkin round his neck, and with
a head as white as the driven snaw; and says he, touching his hat with
his hand--
"Would ye be wanting my services, sir?"
"What services in a' the world can ye render, auld carle?" says I.
"I'm the man that marries the folk," says he; "my name's Peter Moodie."
"And what do you seek for your marriage-service?" says I.
"Three half-crowns frae working-folk, and a guinea frae the like o' you,
sir," says he.
"There's a crown-piece, my guid fellow," says I, "and let me see you go
owre the foolery--for the very fun o' the thing."
"Do, do, Peter!" cried the youngest Cochrane and her cousin, eagerly.
"Wha shall I buckle, then?" says the mimicking priest.
"Our two selves," says I, pressing Miss Cochrane's hand, in maudlin
fondness.
"What's your name, sir?" says the white-headed impostor, looking me
gravely in the face.
"Richard Blackwell," says I, proudly.
"Speak after me, then," says he--"I, Richard Blackwell, do take thee,
Sophia Cochrane, to be my married wife, and do promise to be a loving
husband unto thee until death shall separate us."
I did as I was ordered by the body, and he next caused Miss Cochrane to
take me by the right hand, and repeat a few words after him, muckle to
the same effect. This being done--"Richard Blackwell and Sophia
Cochrane," added the carle, with an air o' mock solemnity, "I proclaim
you husband and wife."
"Get on with the ceremony, ye drunken neer-do-weel," bawled I; "the five
shillings will surely go a deal farther than that. We're not half
married!"
"Try to get off, if you can, and see how ye'll thrive," says Peter, and
staggered off, leaving us to enjoy what I considered at the time a mere
farce or bit o' harmless diversion.
Having returned to the inn, we had another bottle o' brandy, to drink to
the health and happiness o' Mr and Mrs Blackwell; and, as I was willing
to carry on the joke, I good-naturedly humoured the fools--for what will
a man not do in drink--and thanked them with sham politeness for their
kind wishes. The bill at length was sent up to _our lordships_; but, as
the cousin had no small change on him, and as the leddies had left their
purses behind them in the bustle o' setting off, I had to pay dearly for
my "whistle," but I cared not. Having got a' settled, we packed into the
chaise, and drove off for Wooler; but I was so far gone, that I lay as
sound as a tap on the auldest Cochrane's shoulder, until we came within
a mile o' the village; and when I awoke the _mercury_ had fallen so low,
that I felt as stupid and dead as a door nail. No sooner, however, did
we reach their door in the main street, than I banged up in the chaise,
and attempted to jump out; but, alack-a-day! my legs fell from beneath
me as if they did not belong to my body, while my puir head swam round
and round, like a light bung in a gutter.--"Will ony o' you chiels,"
hiccuped I to the crowd that stood in front o' the chaise window, "carry
me to Lucky Hunter's?"
"Ye maun pack in wi' your wife, Billy," cried they.
"I've no _wife_," stammered I; "I'm Ma-ma-ister Blackwell, the braw
sou-sou-ter o' Selkirk."
At hearing this, some witty rascal roared out--
"_Doun_ wi' the souters o' Selkirk,
And _up_ wi' the Yearl o' Hume."
And, suiting the action to the words, _doun_ from the chaise they
accordingly dragged me; but, as I would not on any account enter Miss
Cochrane's house, the youngsters lifted me into a butcher's slaughtering
barrow, and whirled me along the pavement like daft devils; and in the
lapse o' a few minutes, I was thudded against my landlady's door, and
tumbled out on the dirty street, as unceremoniously as if I had been the
"lord o' misrule" at a village feast. Being carried up-stairs and laid
upon a sofa, I was owre asleep before ye could say "Jock Robinson," and
as unconscious o' the late hullybilloo as the bairn unborn. The burning
fever, however, that the drink had flung me into would not let me sleep
for any length o' time; and about two in the morning I awoke, with my
tongue sticking to my mouth, as if it had been tacked; nor could I open
my lips wide aneugh to let in a teaspoon shank, though my very throat
was cracking with the heat, like a piece o' parched muirland. In raising
mysel on the sofa, I fortunately got hold o' the bell-rope, and, resting
mysel on my elbow, I rang it as furiously as if the house had been in
flames about my ears.
"What, what, what is the matter with you?" sputtered the terrified
landlady, scrambling up the stairs. "People will think it is the
fire-bell."
"It is a great enough fire-bell," says I; "and if ye do not keep back
your abominable candle, you'll set my breath a-low."
"The good folk will then take you for one of the new lights," says she.
"For mercy's sake," cries I, "bring up your water-pipe, and let it run
doun my throat, to slocken me!"
"There's not such a thing as a water-pipe in Wooler," says the
aggravating creature. "The good people in this quarter haven't the
_spirit_ in them that you've got."
"Oh, do not torture me, wife," said I, "with your off-taking way, for I
could drink the Till dry, could I get at it."
"You shall have a proper sluicing in it in the morning, then," says the
unfeeling wretch; "so just lay your head high till daylight comes in."
Seeing I could not better myself, I flung my head down with a terrible
clash on the side o' the sofa; while my thirst grew so intolerable, that
the very breath which issued from my cramped lips was like to stifle me.
In this indescribably miserable state I lay till about seven o'clock,
when, by a sickly effort o' strength, I got up, and tried to walk across
the floor; but my brain reeled at every step, and my limbs shook beneath
me like willow wands. With my eyes swimming in dizziness, I next sought
the washhand-basin, and plunging my head into the cauld water, I kept it
there for nearly three minutes, drinking copiously at the same time; and
though the terrible stimulus brought on a severe shivering qualm, that
lasted for nearly a quarter-of-an-hour, it cleared my faculties
sufficiently to lay me open to a' the violence o' self-reproach. Having
swallowed a beefsteak, with plenty o' mustard and pepper, I felt
comparatively recruited, at least in body; and when the day had worn on
to about four in the afternoon, I thought, as the reading-room was only
at the next door, I might contrive to slip in unobserved, and get a
sight o' the papers. I accordingly stole out, and got into the room
without meeting any one, where I found an auldish man in a brown tufted
wig, who used glasses, sitting brooding owre the _bad times_ fornent
the window. He did not take any notice o' me, nor I o' him; but I had
not got weel seated, when in steps a spruce-looking body, in a Petersham
frock, who immediately marched up to the spectacled dumby, and inquired
if there was any news going.
"None," replied the latter, in a sepulchral tone o' voice, "neither
foreign nor domestic."
"You haven't heard, then," says the other, "of Miss Cochrane's affair?"
"Has she been _seized_?" says the elderly gentleman, taking off his
spectacles, and turning up the whites of his eyes.
"Ay, ay, heart and body," says the younger, in a fit of laughter; "she
has been seized by her husband, a half-witted idiot of a fellow, a
native of the town of Selkirk."
"Ye dinna mean to say sae?" rejoins his friend.
"The simpleton was hooked at Coldstream Brig-end," cries the young man
in the surtout, as I stole out, in an agony o' remorse, and directed my
steps to my lodgings, on the most freendly terms with desperation. My
worst fears were instantly confirmed; for I no sooner had entered the
house, than Mrs Hunter placed a letter in my hand from the youngest
Cochrane. I have carried the thing about with me for these ten years
now; and, as I regard it as a kind o' curiosity, ye would aiblins like
to hear it. It's just word for word to this day as I received it:--
"MY DEAR BROTHER,--Mrs Blackwell, your much-attached wife, has
passed a miserable night--going out of one hysteric into
another; and bitterly lamenting that she should have given her
hand to one who seems determined to repay the affection she has
heaped upon him with a neglect which, if persisted in, will not
fail to break her loving heart. She has tasted nothing since
she left Coldstream, save a mouthful of cold water, and a
little thin gruel; and our fear is, that the poor soul will
starve herself to death! Do come down immediately, and try to
comfort her, and you may rely upon my kind offices in doing
away with the unpleasant feelings to which your unaccountable
conduct last night has given rise.--Your affectionate sister,
"ARABELLA COCHRANE."
I turned in actual loathing from the perusal o' this artful scrawl;
while my heart was like to burst with the wild tumult o' feeling that
distracted me. "Is it possible," asked I, again and again, o' mysel,
"that I am married? No, no, it cannot be; and rather than live with a
woman I do not like, I'll leave the country, and transport myself for
life to the farthest isle o' Sydney Cove." How I was kept in my right
judgment throughout that sleepless and miserable night, is a wonder to
me till this day. Twenty times did I fondly convince mysel that it was
a' but a crazed dream; and as often did the truth flash upon my mind,
curdling my very bluid with shame and remorse. The morning at length
breaking, I hastily arose, threw on my clothes, and hurried down to the
"Cottage" for a post-chaise; and in less than an hour I was off, bag and
baggage, on my way to Selkirk. But bad news travel unco fast; and, long
before I reached the town, the story o' my clandestine marriage was in
the mouths o' auld and young; and, on driving up to my ain house, the
first sight I saw was the big radical flag wapped to the chimney, and
flapping out owre the premises, in token o' rejoicing.
"Oh, Tam Wilson," cried I to the foreman, stamping my foot in madness,
"what, in the name o' a' that's guid, has tempted ye to hoist that
infernal rag above my house? Tear it doun this moment, sirrah, if ye
value either your maister's character or your ain employ."
"It was put up, sir, in honour o' your marriage," says he.
"Breathe that word again in my hearing," says I, "and I'll cleave you to
the teeth, ye scoundrel!"
In the midst o' our cangling, a chaise rolled up to the door, when out
jumped my two she-tormentors, and their little blackavised cousin, and
marched direct into the shop. A _scene_ immediately ensued that baffles
a' description. The auldest Cochrane first tried on the fainting and
greeting; but finding, after a great deal o' attitudinising, that she
was as far from her purpose as ever, she next began to storm like a
fury, and even had the audacity and ill-breeding to smack me in the
face--not with her lips truly, but with her open hand--using towards me,
at the same time, language that would disgrace an outcast in a
Bridewell. After expending the whole o' her wrath on my head, the party
left the shop, threatening that they would make my purse smart for it in
the way o' a settlement. And they were as guid as their word; for I had
forty pounds a-year to settle on a person the law acknowledged as my
lawfully-wedded wife, besides incurring legal expenses to the amount o'
three hundred pounds.
Years have come and passed sin a' this happened; but never has my
unlucky marriage gone down in Selkirk: and I not only have lost my
"status" in society, but my presence, at a public meeting or the
like--even at this day--is the ready signal for the evil-disposed to
kick up a riot. This I might even get owre; but when I think o' the
cheerlessness o' my ain house, and the sad desolateness o' my
heart--that my only sister, whose advice I have often treated with owre
little deference, has sunk into the grave with a broken heart--that I
have none to take an interest or enter into the cause o' the inquietude
and suffering that has silently worn down the strength o' my
constitution--and that, were I dying the morn, the fremmit must close my
eyes, and my effects go to enrich an ingrate:--I say, Maister Brown,
when I think on the misery that my foolishness has brought upon me, and
reflect how happy I might have been, had I not become the dupe o' my ain
erroneous opinions and self-conceit--my very heart sickens within me;
and, in the bitterness o' my feelings, I earnestly wish that I were laid
by the side o' my puir sister, and my head at rest, for ever below the
sod.
ROSEALLAN'S DAUGHTER.
The old strength of Roseallan cannot now boast even a site on the face
of the earth; for (so at least says tradition) the waters of the
Whitadder run over the place where it reared its proud turrets. It is
sad enough to look upon the green grass, and contemplate, with a heart
beating with the feelings that respond to antiquarian reminiscences, the
velvet covering of nature spread over the place where chivalry, love,
and hospitality claimed the base-court, the bower, and the banqueting
hall; but green grass, though long, and whistling in the winds of
winter, carries not to the sensitive mind the feeling of mournful change
and desolation suggested by the murmuring stream, as, rolling over the
site of an old castle, it speaks its eloquent anger and triumph over the
proud structures of man. So long as there is apparent to the eye a place
where the cherished object of memory might, without violence to the
ordinary conditions of nature, have stood, the plastic fancy asserts
instantly her constructive power, and sets before the eye of the mind a
structure that satisfies all our historical associations; but the moment
we see the favoured place occupied by a running water, vindicating,
apparently, a right to an eternal and unchangeable course, the
many-coloured goddess takes fright, and refuses to obey the behest of
the will that wishes her to compete with nature in the work of creation.
We have stated a tradition, and we do not answer for it. There may be
doubts now about the precise locality of the old strength of Roseallan,
but there are none in regard to the fact of its last proprietor having
been Sir Gilbert Rollo, a favourite of King James V., who saw no better
mode of rewarding his loyal subject for important services, than by
giving him a grant of the castle and domains, upon the old feudal tenure
of ward-holding. This the king was enabled to do, from the property
having fallen to the crown by the constructive rebellion of its former
proprietor, whose name we have not been able to discover. Sir Gilbert
Rollo had a wife and one daughter, the latter of whom was called
Matilda. According to the account contained in some letters still extant
in the possession of a branch of the family, this young lady was
possessed of charms of so extraordinary a nature as to make her famous
throughout "broad Scotland." Having little faith in verbal descriptions,
as a mean of conveying to the mind of one who has not seen the original,
any adequate idea of those peculiar qualities of form, colour,
proportion, and expression that go to form what is called female beauty,
we will not transcribe the elaborate account of her perfections which we
have had the privilege of perusing. We content ourselves with stating,
what will give a far better notion of her excellence, that there can be
no doubt of the fact of her having been famous throughout Scotland at
that period as the fairest woman in the kingdom. It has been stated that
Queen Mary showed her picture to some of her French followers, with a
view to impress upon their minds that, beautiful as she was, her country
had produced one even transcending her; though some have asserted that
the picture which hung in Mary's bedroom was that of a daughter of
Crighton of Brunston. We cannot reconcile the different statements; but
it is enough for our purpose that Matilda Rollo was supposed to be
entitled to compete for this distinction.
Sir Gilbert and Lady Rollo were staunch Catholics of the primary church.
They gratified King James, by extending their hatred to all those who
showed any disposition to favour the partial reformation effected by
Henry VIII. of England; whose law of the six articles was then a
subject of bitter contention among all parties, both in England and
Scotland. This religious prejudice was of greater importance in the
family of Roseallan Castle than as a mere question of faith. It
interfered with the success of a suitor for the hand of Matilda--an
English knight of the name of Sir Thomas Courtney. This individual, who
was much famed on the English side of the Borders for his knightly
bearing, manly proportions, and beauty of person, was ambitious of
carrying off the fairest woman of Scotland; as well from an ardent
passion with which he was inflamed, as from the pride of having to boast
among his English compeers of being the possessor of so inestimable a
jewel as the "Rose of Roseallan." His suit had been favoured for a time
by Matilda's father, but had been discharged as soon as it was known
that the lover of Matilda was an admirer of Henry's new system of
religious reformation. This determination on the part of her parents was
not disagreeable to the daughter, who had never been able to see, in the
proud stateliness of the handsome Englishman, those softer qualities
which could enable him to respond to the high aspirations and
impassioned feelings of what she conceived to be genuine romantic love.
For a considerable period, Sir Thomas had not been a visiter at
Roseallan. He had, however, left a deputy in the person of Bertha
Maitland, who had been Matilda's nurse, and was still retained in the
family as a favoured domestic. A favourer of the religious tenets of the
new English reformers, she had looked favourably on the suit of the
lover; and there was reason to suppose that English gold, as well as
English principles of religion, had been employed to gain over her
interest in behalf of the Englishman. Her efforts had been sedulously
devoted to the excitement of some feeling of attachment on the part of
Matilda; but as women can only excite love in their female companions by
rivalship, her praises went for nothing more than an old woman's
garrulity. Matilda felt it impossible to give her affections to her
English suitor, and was glad to take refuge behind the commands of her
father, never to see him, and never to listen to his high-flown
professions of passion.
Many other suitors sought the favour of the far-famed Rose of Roseallan.
They were of the highest of the land--many of them the courtiers of King
James; and the rules and canons of love-making, taken from the old
romances--"Amadis de Gaul" and others--were learned by heart, and acted
on by tongue and eyes. But all was in vain. There was not a single
individual among all those who resorted to Roseallan, not even Sir
George Douglas (who had been favoured by her father), that had been able
to excite the least spark of affection in the bosom of the fair object
of their suit. The circumstance was remarkable, but not the less true;
and the difficulty could not be solved by the ordinary expedients.
Though the most beautiful woman in Scotland at that time, she was the
humblest; and no rejected lover could lay his bad fortune to the account
of pride, or solace his self-love by an imputed arrogance of beauty. The
perfect disengagement (so far as could be observed) of her affections,
kept up the hopes of her English admirer, who learned everything that
took place at the castle through the medium of his hired agent. The
mediations of Bertha were kept up; but her praises had, by repetition,
become tiresome, and fell upon the ear of her fair mistress like the
tuneless notes of the birds that, unfitted to be of the choir of the
forest, chirped on the old walls of Roseallan.