IT was about dusk when I was caught in a mist on the borders of
Scotland. I had made my way from Manchester, by Kendal and Penrith, and
was on a long stretch across the bleak muirs which separate England from
Scotland, as you advance towards the village of Castletown on the
Liddle. Not being familiar with the footpath which I was tracing, I
fairly lost my way, and had some severe pulls, through mosses and
ravines of no ordinary depth and extent. Still, I was young and strong,
and not subject to superstitious fears. At last, however, I was
enveloped in close and almost palpable darkness, or rather
whiteness--for the ground-mist rose, and crawled, and trailed, white,
and damp, and still, all around me. I even felt as if it entered my very
nostrils, and made a portion of myself. I could scarcely see the two
ends of my pack, as they peeped over my shoulders. My faithful dog
Neptune, of the Newfoundland breed, went on, however, gaily and
caressingly before me; and seemed to say, at every return, "Another
effort, master--one pull more--and we shall be alongside of the
flesh-pots of Mr. Elliot, laird of Whithaugh." All at once, I came to
the brow of a precipice, from which my faithful monitor warned me to
retreat; and while in the act of so doing, I thought I heard human
voices in the linn beneath. Neptune, too, gave loud note of the
discovery; and in an instant was engaged in mortal warfare with a
bull-dog of great power and fierceness. Whilst I was endeavouring, with
my yard-wand, to separate the combatants, a stout, tall, and somewhat
ungainly figure came, with a long horsewhip, to my assistance. The
combatants, seeing how matters stood, were content to adopt the
growling, instead of the tearing system; and separated, as if by mutual
agreement, that matters should not long remain as they were. However, a
leash of strong cord, with a neck-band, made fast Neptune's opponent,
and rendered it safe for Neptune and me to accept of the stranger's
invitation to join their camp.
The camp was, indeed, of a novel and somewhat strange description. Over
a brawling current, which, as I was told, at this point separated
England from Scotland, there were extended from rock to rock, poles and
branches of dwarf-elder and saughs, which were growing, or rather
decaying, on each side of the glen or linn. These branches and poles
were again traversed by cords, which kept them in close order and
regular position. Over all, were laid turf, and spret, and bog-hay,
which formed a kind of isthmus betwixt the two kingdoms. When you stood
in the middle of this erection, you were neither in England nor in
Scotland, but _medio tutissimus_; and, should the civil power show its
miscreant front on the one side, you could immediately retreat to the
other, and _vice versa_ with regard to that of England. The gipsies were
the famous Yetholm band, and had lived here for some time past,
disposing during the day-time, of their pots, pans, ram-horn spoons, and
other kitchen conveniences; and spending the night under shelter of
their tents, located, or rather suspended, as above-mentioned, in riot,
uproar, revelment, and debauchery. There were about an equal number of
men and women, but no children--these being left at Yetholm, where they
remained stationary during the winter months. Their king or leader was
at this time Cuthbert, or Cubby Elliot, who boasted of his long descent
and connection with the laird of Whithaugh, on the skirts of whose
property he was now encamped. The use which Cubby made of his
relationship with Whithaugh, was to amerce him in a fat wedder every
time he came round, together with a gallon of whisky, in consideration
for which voluntary donation he protected his hen-roost and barn-yard
from all manner of gipsy depredation. This was sheep-night, as it was
called--the evening, namely, on which the Whithaugh wedder was to be
discussed, and the whisky was to be drunk; and the whole company was in
the middle of the wassail, when I stumbled upon their retreat.
Being not unknown to Cuthbert, whom I had even met at Whithaugh's
fireside, I ran no risk either of insult or violence; but, on the
contrary, was hailed with an uproarious welcome, which made the grey
gled quit the cliff above. The small cask containing the laird's _due_,
as they called it (mountain dew was then a term unknown), lay in the
midst of the encampment, alongside of a blazing heap of brushwood, which
seemed, ever and anon, to threaten with conflagration the whole
erection; and the sheep, roasted, or rather broiled, in its own skin,
betwixt two forked poles, was subjected every now and then to an
incision from the large whangers or knives, which, like Hudibras' sword,
"served more purposes than one." The mist sat close above; the flames
roared in unison with the torrent beneath; the barrel gave out its
glutting contents in horns and cups; the bare poles of the sheep began
to appear in the shape of ribs; the song, the jest, the jeer, the howl,
the tumble, the almost quarrel, were all in their height, when I thought
I heard a distant but terrific sound. With difficulty I procured a
temporary suspension of noise. It was manifestly distant thunder. No
matter--on went the carousal. A young man who had lately joined the
gang, made a conspicuous figure; he was evidently over head, ears, and
shoulders, in love with Ellen Elliot, the king's fair and buxom
daughter. The fellow was such a one as I have never seen before nor
since. He had the eye of a hawk or eagle; a nose corresponding; high
cheek-bones; fair or yellowish hair, forking out like lightning in every
direction; a red beard, fully a month old; and the limbs, and nerves,
and muscles of a giant. He twisted a horse-shoe in two behind his back;
held out a musket by the extremity of the muzzle, his arm at full
stretch; and lifted up Ellen Elliot, tossing her up in the air, and
catching her again, like a tennis ball. His name I have since learned,
though I am not at liberty to divulge it, as he now occupies a chair in
one of our most celebrated universities, which he adorns with as much
vigour and originality as he did that night the tinkler's gathering. It
is thus that men of genius study human nature to advantage, and not in
the turning over of quarto volumes from one year's end to the other; and
it was thus that the great and celebrated Christ---- N---- acquired that
richness of illustration and vigour of conception which have raised him,
in this respect, above every living name. Long may he live!--and often
may the fresh and vigorous effusions of his pen recall to my
recollection the astonishing gambols and revelment of this evening! At
last, however, the cask gave out its last benediction--the utmost effort
of man or woman could not extract a drop more; limbs became supple, and
eyes misty, muddy, heavy, and shut. Men slid down in their garments, and
snored aloud; women disappeared into the now closing obscurity, and
huddled together under eaves and covering; the embers emitted, or were
about to emit, their last gleam, when the young and extraordinary person
I have described, made up to me. I had thought him drunk; but he was
not--it was all assumed. We entered immediately into conversation, and
he made me acquainted with his resolution of stealing away from the
frolic whilst the company slept. In this he was joined by me, and we
were upon the point of putting our resolution into execution, when a
sudden gleam of lightning shone in upon us, and two or three large
pieces of hail, or rather ice, came down with the force and velocity of
shot. All at once, the waters of the linn began to tumble about in an
unusual manner--the Gullet, or Gray Mare's Tail, immediately above us,
presented, even through the shade of night, a fearful projection of
flood; the gullets roared and choked, and accumulated sticks, and turf,
and heath, in their descent; and, ere a single individual could be
aroused, the whole erection on which the whole gang were sound sleeping,
was swept down the flood. Piteous was indeed the picture, and terrible
the screams; but after the obstruction behind which the waters had
accumulated gave way, the stream narrowed in its course, and many were
left on dry land, almost without any efforts of their own. The fearless
stranger was everywhere--he seemed now to be amphibious; and Neptune,
too, was of the greatest service. I myself was not awanting either in
courage or enterprise; and so it came to pass, that, in a few seconds,
all had mustered, save one, the buxom and frank-hearted Ellen Elliot.
The father raved, and dashed anew into the gullets. "Search Hell's
Caldron!" was the almost universal cry. This was a terrible pool, some
way down the stream. My young friend flew off; and I saw him leap some
twenty or thirty feet into the black and boiling flood; he came up again
exhausted, but exclaiming--"She is here! she is here!" Her father's
plunge was simultaneous with the last words; down they both went
together, and up they brought betwixt them poor Ellen Elliot. She was
apparently dead; but, being laid on the brink of the pool, with her head
downwards, much water escaped from her mouth. "She lives! she lives!"
exclaimed parent and lover at once; "oh, kindle a fire!" It was done, I
never knew how, as if by magic. Spirits from a small flask in her
father's side-pocket were made use of first externally, and latterly
internally. Ellen awoke in terrible pain, she travailled fearfully into
life; but at last she became sensible, and her first words were--"Bless
me! what a terrible dream I have had!"
All is well that ends well. Ellen Elliot, the fair gipsy, is now Lady
Whithaugh; the old man in his dotage having taken it into his head to
marry again, though he was at the time a grandfather. She is one of my
most steady customers, and I have no doubt that, when the old,
kind-hearted, and easy-tempered laird shall have taken his leave, she
may very soon after take her leave of widowhood--and why not? Then will
be "a wedding," and there (perhaps) may be the writer and the reader of
these _chapters_! Amen!