gentlemen. You must know that he was one of the prettiest and most
accomplished men of his time, and a great favourite at court. His
perfection in all warlike exercises--his fondness for horses--and
his fearless riding, were qualifications which fitted him for being
the companion of the king's brothers, the spirited Alexander Duke
of Albany, and the tall and graceful John Earl of Mar, whilst his
skill in fencing--his proficiency in music--and his taste in dress,
secured for him a high place in the good graces of that elegant,
but weak monarch, James the Third. With young Ramsay of Balmain,
afterwards created Earl of Bothwell, he was in the best habits of
intimacy. But with the lower minions of the king, I mean, with such as
Cochran the mason--Rogers the musician--Leonard the smith--Hommil the
tailor--Torfefan the fencing-master, and Andrew the Flemish astrologer,
he was more polite than familiar. With the ladies of the court Sir
Walter Stewart was an object of admiration, nay, he was the theme of
the praise of every one of them, from the beautiful, fascinating,
and virtuous Queen Margaret herself, down to the humblest of her
maids of honour. It is no wonder, then, that Sir Walter was induced
to spend more of his time at court than among the wilds of his native
mountains. On the occasion of which I am now speaking, he was on his
way to the castle of Stirling, where James the Third was at that time
residing, and after a long and tiresome journey, he and his attendants
entered the city, and rode up to their hostel in the main street,
at such an hour of the evening, as made it neither very seemly nor
very convenient for him to report himself to his majesty.
Sir Walter Stewart was too well known not to command immediate
attention from every one belonging to the inn. The horse-boys, who
were grooming the numerous steeds, that were hooked up to various
parts of the walls surrounding the yard, made way respectfully, not
only for himself, but also for his people and their animals, and the
cattle of some persons of less note and consideration, were turned
out of their stalls for the accommodation of his horses. Meanwhile,
the knight was ushered up stairs into the common room, by mine host
in person, who, with his portly figure, stripped to his close yellow
jacket and galligaskins, and with a fair linen towel hanging from
his girdle, puffed and sweated up the steps before him, his large
rubicund visage vying in the brightness of its scarlet, with the fiery
coloured cap of coarse red cloth which he wore. Sir Walter found the
large apartment surrounded by oaken tables and chairs, which were
occupied by various guests, some eating, and some drinking, whilst
the rattling of trenchers, the clinking of cans, the buzz of voices,
and the hum of tongues, were so loud and continuous, as to render
it difficult for him to detect a word of the conversation that was
going on any where, except the clamorous calls for fresh supplies of
provender, ale, or wine, which the bustling serving men and tapsters
were hurrying to and fro to satisfy.
As the host showed Sir Walter to an unoccupied table at the upper end
of the place, most of the guests arose and saluted him as he passed
by them. To some of these he gave a condescending bow of recognition,
whilst to others he hardly deigned to bestow more than a dignified
acknowledgment of their courtesy. But he was no sooner seated,
than he was left to his own reflections, for each man again turned
his attention to his own particular comforts, and the knight was
not sorry to be very soon enabled to do the same thing for himself,
by paying his own addresses to the smoking pasty that was placed on
the table before him. He had but just finished his meal, when the
host entered, ushering in a very elegant young man, the richness of
whose attire, as well as the perfection of its make, together with
his noble air, at once showed him to be a gentleman of the court. His
rose-coloured jacket, and amber trewse, were of the richest silk,
and made to fit tight, so as to show off, to the greatest advantage,
his very handsome person. His girdle-belt of black velvet, together
with the pouch of the same material, sparkled with gems, as did also
the sheaths and hilts of his sword and dagger. Several rich chains of
gold were hung about his neck; his shoes had those long thin points,
which were worn at that period, though they were not, in his instance,
carried to any very absurd extravagance. His cloak was of blue velvet
richly bordered with silver, and his broad jewelled hat, of scarlet
stuff of the same material, was drawn over one side of his head,
as a necessary precaution of counterpoise to the weight of the
long feathers of green, blue, red, and yellow, which stretched out
from it so far as to threaten to overbalance it on the other. From
beneath this his brown hair hung down, curling over his ample brow,
and spread itself in wide profusion over his shoulders.
"What, Ramsay!" exclaimed Sir Walter Stewart, rising to meet him
with a cordial salutation, which again silenced the clatter of the
trenchers and cans, and brought all eyes for some moments upon the
two gentlemen. "This is a lucky meeting indeed."
"Lucky!" replied Ramsay, smiling jocularly; "what a boorish phrase!--It
is indeed well worthy of one, who hath been rusticating so long amidst
northern moors and mountains."
"Cry your mercy, my lord of the court," said Sir Walter Stewart,
laughing.
"Nay," continued Ramsay; "I know not whether thy clownish expression
be most discourteous to me, or to thyself,--to me, as it would deny
me all credit for this mine expressly purposed visit to thee,--or
to thyself, for supposing that such a preux-chevalier, as thou art,
could be, for the smallest fraction of time, within the atmosphere
of the court, without being run after by those who love thee."
"Thank thee! thank thee, my dear Ramsay," replied Sir Walter, shaking
him cordially by the hand, and laughing heartily; "Then will I say,
that it was most kind of thee to find me out so soon, and to come
thus purposely to take a stoup of French claret with me, and to pour
thine agreeable talk into mine ear, so as to fill the empty vessel
of mine ignorance, to a level with that of thine own full knowledge
of courtly affairs, and of all the interesting occurrents which have
chanced about the court since I last left it. So, sit thee down,
I pray thee. We shall be private enow at this table, which is well
out of ear-shot of all those noisy gormandizers and guzzlers."
"Nay," replied Ramsay, as he seated himself beside his friend; "thine
emptiness is of too vast a profundity for me to be able to fill it at
this time. On some other occasion I shall do my best to replenish thee,
when we can have leisure for a longer talk together, than we can look
to have to-night. I came hither only to carry thee away with me."
"Whither wouldst have me go?" demanded Sir Walter. "Trust me, I am
more disposed, at this moment, to enjoy mine ease in mine inn, than
to move any where else."
"But I must have thee," replied Ramsay; "rustic as thou art, thou must
submit to be led by me for some little time, like a blind man who hath
but newly recovered his eyesight, lest thou shouldst stumble amidst
the blaze of courtly sunshine. I came to bring thee to a small supper,
at the lodging of Sir William Rogers, that most cunning fingerer of the
lute and harp, and whose practice thereupon," continued he, sinking his
voice almost to a whisper, "seems to have taught him a most marvellous
power, of bringing what music may be most profitable for himself, out
of that strange and many-stringed instrument called a Royal Sovereign."
"Hush, hush, Ramsay!" replied Sir Walter. "Thy talk is dangerous in
such a place as this. But say, does the King go to this party?"
"No," replied Ramsay; "He is to be employed to-night in the occult
science, to which he hath of late so much addicted himself. He is to
be occupied with that knave Andrew the Astrologer, in regarding and
reading the stars."
"Then, what boots it for us to go to the party of this empty piece
of sounding brass?" demanded Sir Walter.
"Much, much, my dear Stewart," replied Ramsay. "In the first place,
thou shalt be introduced to his niece, who hath lately arrived from
England. Thou shalt see and hear that fair Philomela, yclept Juliet
Manvers, who plays and sings to admiration. Though here it behoves
me, as thy friend, to bid thee take care of thy heart, for the uncle
seems to have imported her, with the wise intent, of marrying her
to some one of the court, and mine own heart hath already been very
sorely assailed."
"A dangerous siren, truly!" said Sir Walter, laughing; "yet methinks
I may safely enough bid defiance to her enchantment."
"We shall see," replied Ramsay, with a doubtful nod of his head;
"But be that as it may, my second reason for taking thee thither,
is that, with exception of our host himself, we may at least spend
one tolerably pleasant evening undrugged and unencumbered, with the
base society of those vulgar fellows, whom the King, with so much
mistaken judgment, hath chosen to associate in his favour, with two
such well-born gentlemen as you and me. Cochran, that man whom nature
hath built up of stone and mortar, and who would yet ape the graces
of a finished lord of the court, as a bear would copy the gambols of
a well educated Italian greyhound."
"Hommil!" cried Sir Walter, laughing, and following up his friend's
humour. "Hommil! that thread-paper, whose sword and dagger would
be better removed, to have their places supplied by his shears and
his bodkin."
"Leonard!" cried Ramsay, "Leonard! that man of iron, whose very face
is a perfect forge, his chin being the stithy, his mouth the great
bellows, his eyes the ignited charcoal, his nose the fore-hammer,
and his brows the broken and smoke begrimmed pent-house that hangs
over all."
"Torfefan!" continued Stewart; "Torfefan! that bully of the backsword,
rapier, and dagger, who, except when he is pot-valiant, is always so
wise in his steel-devouring courage, as to spread it forth like the
tail of a turkey-cock, always the wider, the weaker the adversary he
may have to deal with."
"Bravo! bravo!" cried Ramsay, absolutely shouting in his mirth;
"Bravo! bravo! and then, last of all, Andrew, that solemn and
mysterious knave, who seems as if he would pluck the stars from
the skies, as I would the daisies from a flower border, and who,
if I mistake not, will yet contrive to weave a good rich garland of
fate out of them for himself, whatever he may do for others. To be
compelled to keep such company, Stewart, is to pay a severe penalty for
the daily converse and favour of a king. But this night, the monarch
being engaged, as I told thee, each of these precious fellows hath
gone on his own private amusement, for, as thou knowest, there is no
such great love among them, as to make any two of them much desire to
company together, so, to get rid for one single night of the whole of
them but Rogers, whom we must admit to be by far the least offensive
and most tolerable individual among them, is certainly a matter upon
which we may very well congratulate ourselves."
"True," replied Sir Walter; "but I see no reason why we should not rid
ourselves of Rogers, as well as of the rest, by staying and spending
the evening together over this excellent wine. I must confess that
I am somewhat travel-worn, and but little inclined for any such
entertainment as he may give us."
"Nay, that cannot be," said Ramsay; "I gave my promise to him, ere I
knew of thy coming, and when I heard of thine arrival, I pledged my
word to bring thee with me. So, now, thou must not abandon me. Besides,
as I told thee, the fellow is the best of these minions, and his music,
not to mention that of his niece, is always some recompense for the
endurance of his company. So haste thee to doff thy travelling weeds,
and pink thyself out in such attire, as may make thee pleasing in the
eyes of the fair and philomela-voiced Juliet. Be quick! for I shall
wait for thee here."
Sir Walter Stewart, rather unwillingly, summoned his servants--was
lighted to his chamber, and soon returned, in a dress, which was in no
wise put to shame by that of his friend, and they proceeded together
to the lodgings of Sir William Rogers.
The apartments of this favourite minstrel of the king were not
extensive, but, as the custom was, down to a very late period of our
history, even the principal bed-room, which purposely contained a
richly carved aud highly ornamented bed, was thrown open, and all
were lighted up with a blaze of lamps. The furniture was gorgeous
and gaudy. The serving-men numerous, but not always expert, and
the company was small, and chiefly composed of such persons as were
likely to be willing to scrape their way up into favour at court, by
grasping the skirt, and scrambling after the footsteps, of any one,
however worthless, who might be rising there. The entrance of two
gallants so distinguished as Ramsay and Sir Walter Stewart produced
just such an effect as one might look for from the sudden arrival of
two noble peacocks, in full glory of plumage, in the midst of a vulgar
flock of turkeys. Each small individual present vainly endeavoured to
hobble-gobble itself into notice, whilst the two greater and grander
birds permitted their own agreeable admiration of themselves, to be but
little interrupted by the ruffling and noise of the creatures around
them. To Sir William Rogers himself, however, court policy induced them
to yield a full and respectful attention. He was a good looking, and
rather stoutish man, with more of talent than of gentility in his face,
for though his brows were heavy, his large eyes were always ready to
respond, with powerful expression, to the varied feelings which music
never failed to awaken within him. In music he was an enthusiast,
but when not under the excitement which it invariably produced in
him, his whole features betrayed that dull, sordid, self-complacency,
only to be disturbed when his own immediate interest moved him.
The musical knight came forward to receive the two friends, with
manifest satisfaction, as persons who raised the tone of his little
society, and gave him additional consequence in the eyes of his other
guests. He presented Sir Walter, without delay, to his fair niece, who
arose gracefully from the harp, over which she had just begun to run
her fingers in a prelude, and returned his salute with condescending
smiles. She was very beautiful; but, although she appeared to be young,
her beauty seemed, somehow, to want the freshness of youth. She looked
like a gay garment, which, though neither soiled nor worn, had lost
somewhat of that glossy newness of surface, with which it first came
forth from the tailor's shop. Whilst her regards were turned towards
Ramsay, or Sir Walter Stewart, her countenance was covered with the
most winning smiles she could wear; but when they chanced to wander
round among the meaner personages of the company, it assumed a degree
of haughtiness, that was not unmingled with contempt. This proceeded
from her very expressive eyes, which beamed forth warm rays, when half
veiled by her long dark eyelashes, and were quite in harmony with the
mildness of her oval face, her polished forehead, and her dark and
finely arched eye-brows. But when their orbs were broadly displayed
by the rise of her full eye-lid, the fires that shot from them were
too formidable to be altogether agreeable. As was the fashion with
ladies of any distinction in those days, her hair was but little
seen--the greater part of it being capped up under a very tall,
steeple-looking head-dress, which was of a shape much resembling an
overgrown pottle-basket. This was of crimson velvet, ornamented with
gold embroidery, and from the taper top of it descended a number of
streamers of different colours, which hung down behind, and floated
over three-fourths of her person. She wore a rich robe, of the same
material and colour as the cap. This was made to fit her tightly, as
low as the waist, where it was confined by a richly wrought girdle
of gold, from which it flowed loosely down, and swept the ground
in a wide train, that covered a large extent of the floor around
her, but which was so looped up at the sides, as to display a deep
cherry-coloured silk petticoat flowered with gold.
"Better had it been for thee, Juliet, to have sung when I first asked
thee," said Sir William Rogers to her; "thy minstrelsy might have
passed well enough with our good friends here: but now, thou must
undergo the severe ordeal, of the nicely critical ears, of these
our honoured and highly accomplished guests of the court. Sir Walter
Stewart here, especially, is well known to be a master of the divine
art of music--as, with his gracious favour, you may perchance by and
bye hear."
"Alas! uncle, I know too well how silly I have been, in allowing myself
to be thus caught, and I feel too surely I am about to be punished for
it!" replied the lady, with a sigh, accompanied by a languishing glance
at Sir Walter; "for who hath not heard of the exquisite science of Sir
Walter Stewart? The fame of his accomplishments have made the proudest
gallants of England envious. But his eye hath too much benevolence
in it, to leave me to doubt, that he will pity and pardon the faults
that may spring from this trembling weakness of hand, and fluttering
of heart, which his presence hath so suddenly brought upon me."
The lady, quite accidentally no doubt, then assumed that attitude which
was best calculated to display her person to advantage, and began
to run her fingers over the chords, with a boldness and strength of
touch, that proved her to be a very perfect mistress indeed of the
instrument she handled, since she could thus make it discourse such
music, under circumstances which she had herself declared to be so
unfavourable. Notwithstanding the overawing presence of Sir Walter
Stewart, whose critical powers she had declared she so much dreaded,
she commenced a beautiful love-ballad, in a full, firm, and clear
voice, with which she very speedily whirled away the musical soul of
the Knight of the Aven, who, in spite of his boast to the contrary,
was immediately drawn towards her chair, over which he continued to
hang during all the time of her performance. Song after song was sung
by this siren, in a style so superior to any thing which he had ever
heard before, that he was perfectly enraptured. He was called upon
to play and to sing in his turn, and the praises which he received,
in terms of no very limited measure, from both uncle and niece, and
which, if fame does not belie him, were not altogether unmerited,
were re-echoed by the whole flock of gobbling turkeys who pressed
around them. The lady then joined her voice to his, in a tender and
melting lay,--and thus the evening passed away, till Sir Walter was
called upon to hand her to the table, where an ample feast was spread,
and where her very agreeable talk was rendered even yet more spirited,
by the rich wines, which enlivened the imagination of both speaker
and listener. The hours fled most agreeably; and, before Sir Walter
took his leave, he readily entered into certain arrangements with
the lovely Juliet, by which it was settled that next day was to be
the first of a series of meetings, for mutual practice in the art
in which both so much delighted, their studies being of course to be
carried on under the direction of Sir William Rogers himself.
"Well, Julietta," said the uncle to the niece, after they were left
alone, "how likest thou this new instrument, now that thou hast run
the fingers of thy fancy over his stops?"
"The instrument is a handsome instrument enough," replied Juliet. "The
strings sound melodiously too. But much of mine affection must rest
on the gold with which it may be enriched, and the value of the case
which may contain it. Is this Stewart wealthy, I pray thee; and are
his possessions ample enough for my desires?"
"I know that thy desires are ample enough," replied Rogers; "but
report speaks well of the wealth and possessions of this Sir Walter."
"Some where in the bleak north, are they not?" said Juliet. "By all
the saints, the cold and barren sod of this northern clime had hardly
ever been pressed by my foot at all, had I not hoped to have mated
me with some of its most wealthy nobles!"
"Thou hadst little chance of any such noble match where thou wert,
Julietta," replied Rogers; "and, let me tell thee, the fates are
quite as much against any such chance for thee here. These proud and
dogged Scottish nobles scorn to grace a court, where the King makes
so little account of them. And truly there is little wonder that they
should thus take offence, seeing that the places in the royal favour,
which by inheritance belong to them, should be filled by such beasts
as Leonard--Torfefan--Hommil--Andrew--aye, and that prince of brutes,
Cochran, too."
"They are all beasts, as thou sayest, uncle," replied Juliet;
"though, if I were obliged to choose among them, I should rather
tie myself to that coarse, clumsy elephant whom thou hast last named
as king of these brutes, than to any of the others. He is the man,
depend on't, who hath the true and proper art to raise the edifice
of his own fortunes; and, by using his broad shoulders as a scaffold,
a bold woman might thereby mount, methinks, to wealth and honours."
"He is a pestilent, pushing, proud, overbearing, ignorant, vulgar
beast, I tell thee," replied her uncle, much excited. "The brute
despises music! Depend upon it, he will never rise to any thing but to
the garret story of one of his own buildings, from which, if some kind
devil would but throw him down, to the dislocation of that accursed
bull neck of his, I should cheerfully compose an especial jubilate. Oh,
Apollo and Terpsichore! that a man of my musical science and learning,
should be compelled to associate with so vile a piler of stones,
and compounder of mortar!"
"I have a shrewd suspicion, that the measure of thy rage against
Cochran, is but that of thy fears for his outstripping thee in thine
ascent of the lofty tower of ambition," replied Juliet. "But spurn
him not, good uncle, if thou art wise; for his ladder is long, and
strong; and might, with proper management, be useful to thee."
"I should be right glad to see it so, July, could I but kick down
both the ladder and its owner, after I should have so used them,"
said Rogers. "But methinks thou wouldst fain carry ladder, hod and
mortar and all, to the very top of the tower, on thine own shoulders,
rather than lose the man they belong to."
"Thou art grievously mistaken, uncle," replied Juliet, keenly. "To
rise into a high and wealthy station, and the higher and wealthier the
better, would certainly be my desire; but I should much prefer youth,
and beauty, and accomplishment, in the instrument which I might use
for the gratification of mine ambition. If fate denies me all these
indeed, then would I embrace age, and deformity itself, rather than
fail of mine object. Nay, thou canst hardly as yet guess to what means
I should resort to secure its completion. As for Cochran, I know he
loves me; for, in his great condescension, he hath vouchsafed to tell
me so. Nor have I altogether kept the bear aloof. To wed myself to him
would be to speculate, and that too with but an ungainly and unloveable
subject. But if I could read the book of his fate, and find fortune
and honours therein, it would not be the coarse edifice of his body,
supported as it is upon such rustic pillars, and crowned by so vulgar
and heavy a capital, that would deter me from embracing it. Yet 'tis
but a speculation; and, being so, I must confess that I am disposed,
rather to grasp at this handsome Corinthian column of the Stewart,
than to tie myself to that clumsy Cochran, whose clay image might,
after all, crumble to pieces, and suffocate me in its dirty dust."
"I am right glad that thou hast so determined, Juliet," said Rogers. "I
have no jealousy of this well-born knight, who hath, moreover,
a greater feeling for the divine art of music than any of his cold
countrymen with whom I have yet met, without even excepting Royalty
itself. But I might as well see thee built up into a stone wall,
as see thee the wife of Cochran! To see thy great musical genius
tied to this most unmelodious and croaking chisseler of stones,
and compounder of lime, sand, and cow's-hair! I quaver at the very
thought! But get thee to bed, my girl. Now that I know my ground-notes,
I shall wonder if I work thee not out a piece that shall not only win
thee this instrument of thy more recent desires, but enable thee to
play upon it too, according as thou wilt, with thine own variations."