Jump up there, one of you boys, and douse it. Rogers, there's a traitor
on board.'
"'Then Jose is the man, sir!'
"The Delight had lost a few hands in harbour, by fever; and, a few days
before she sailed, a Portuguese seaman had been shipped to supply the
place of one of them. He was an active, able-bodied fellow, and produced
excellent certificates from former ships; but there was something
extremely forbidding and repulsive in his countenance, and the mate was
very unwilling to obey Captain Forbes's order to receive him on board.
He was a man of few words; but his eyes were constantly wandering, with
a furtive glance, round the ship; and, when he did speak, it was
generally to express his fear of pirates, and to inquire into the means
of defence of the Delight. On the evening before the ship sailed, he
went on shore as one of the boat's crew, but did not make his appearance
again till next morning. For this breach of duty he made some plausible
excuse, which was unfortunately accepted. It was afterwards proved that
he was one of the crew of the pirate, and had been employed to gain all
the information in his power, as to our guns, time of sailing, &c., and
to make private signals, if necessary.
"The brig kept hovering about till daylight, and then bore down upon us,
and, when within range, fired a shot across our bows, to make us heave
to. To this salutation no answer was returned, but we stood steadily on,
as before, reserving our fire for closer quarters. Shot after shot was
dropped into us, but still not a hand was moved on board. At last the
pirate came within hail, and swore with the most horrid oaths that he
would sink us, if we did not immediately heave to.
"'Now, my lads, stand by!' The men were on their feet in a moment.
'Starboard a little! Fire!' Again our grape rattled into her, and we
could judge, by the bustle on her decks, and by the loud cries and
execrations that reached our ears, that our fire had been a destructive
one. Two of our men were killed by his discharge, and our boat amidships
smashed to pieces; but he again sheered off, and, shaking his sails in
the wind, dropped slowly astern. Again our hopes revived, but only to be
miserably disappointed. When he was beyond the range of our short
carronades, he kept dropping shot after shot into us, with deadly
precision from his long gun.
"'Rogers,' said the captain, 'if this game lasts long, it is all up with
us; unless the breeze freshens, we shall all be murdered like so many
sheep.'
"In vain did we endeavour to come to closer quarters with him; as we
shortened sail, so did he. Our guns were useless,
while--crash--crash--crash--followed each remorseless shot from his long
twelve. The breeze, instead of freshening, gradually died away to a
calm, and we lay entirely at his mercy, for he kept sweeping round us,
and, unhurt himself, inflicted deadly injuries upon us. At last, we lay
a complete wreck upon the water; our gallant captain was killed, and
fifteen of the men either dead or desperately wounded, and the gallant,
but exhausted remnant of the crew were persuaded by the mate to consent
to surrender. Our colours were accordingly hauled down; yet the pirate
for some time paid no attention to this mark of submission on our part,
but seemed determined to gratify his thirst for slaughter, by putting
his threat of sinking us into execution. At last he ceased firing, and,
sweeping up on our quarter, hailed to order the captain of the Delight
on board.
"'Our captain is killed, and we have not a boat left that can swim.'
"'Oh, then, if you can't come to me, I must go and fetch you!' A boat,
well manned, soon pushed off from the pirates, and in a few minutes
dashed alongside of us. The first man who boarded us was the captain, as
ferocious-looking a monster as I ever beheld; and his followers, who
swarmed up the side after him, were, in appearance, worthy of their
leader. They rushed on board with cries of exultation and rage,
brandishing their cutlasses, and shouting, 'Down with them!' 'Cut them
down, and make an end of them at once!' And they were proceeding to put
their threats into execution, when they were checked in a moment by the
loud and commanding tones of the captain. 'Stand back, all of you! I'll
shoot the first man that lays a hand upon them! No, no, my lads; it
would be letting the rascals off too cheap to kill them at once; we'll
despatch them in pairs at a time; there are twelve of them, so we shall
have six days' sport instead of one.' This proposal was received with
shouts of savage joy by the crew. 'We'll keep these two till the last,'
continued he, pointing to the mate and myself, 'that they may have the
pleasure of seeing all their comrades walk the plank before them. But,
come my lads, be smart; we have no time to lose; put all these fellows
on board our little hooker; and then we'll see what's to be done below.'
We were all immediately forced into the boat, and rowed on board the
brig, where some of us were put in irons, and others lashed to ringbolts
on the deck. The boat then returned, and the work of plunder commenced;
and for some hours the pirate crew were busily employed in transferring
to the brig all the valuables they could lay their hands upon on board
the Delight. When they had taken everything available, they scuttled the
ship, and left her, and obliged us, with many taunts and blows, to watch
for the catastrophe. It was a heartrending sight to us all to see our
gallant little ship gradually settling in the water, rolling deep and
uneasily, till at last, after a heavy lurch, she dipped her bulwarks low
into the water, and, struggling in vain to recover herself, sank to rise
no more. A groan of horror burst from us all; we felt as if our last
connecting link with humanity was broken; we were left powerless in the
hands of monsters in human form, but with the spirit of demons. Alas!
our fears were but too well verified: that very evening two of our poor
shipmates, after having been tormented in the most savage manner, were
blindfolded, and compelled to walk out upon a plank launched from the
gangway, from the end of which they fell into the sea, shrieking with
horror as they fell. As their bodies plunged heavily into the smooth
water, the captain turned to us with a savage sneer, and said--
"'They were too well fed by half; when it comes to your turn, you won't
make such a disturbance amongst the fishes.'
"But why need I dwell longer upon these horrors? For five succeeding
days, the same murderous scene was enacted; we were fed on bread and
water, and tormented in every way that cruelty could suggest, and then
had the horror of witnessing the death of our companions, and of
anticipating the same cruel fate for ourselves. At last the mate and I
were the only survivors, and we were brought to the gangway, to mount
the same fatal plank which had been the instrument of death to our
unfortunate shipmates. Our eyes were blindfolded, and, weak and
exhausted as we were, we looked forward to death as an easy and happy
release from our miseries. We bade each other farewell.
"'Our murderers allow us one blessing, Rogers,' said I--'to die
together.'
"That remark saved my life.
"'A blessing is it?' exclaimed the captain; 'then it's one that I'll be
hanged if you enjoy. You shall go to the devil by yourself. Take the
handkerchief off that sentimental gentleman's eyes, and let him see his
dear friend take a leap in the dark. He can moralise about it till
to-morrow evening.'
"Poor Rogers! I did indeed feel deserted, when the sullen plunge
announced that the sea had closed over its prey! To this refinement in
cruelty on the part of the pirate, however, I eventually owed my
deliverance. Slowly and painfully did the first hours of that night pass
over my head. My thoughts constantly recurred to the horrors I had
witnessed, and to the dreadful doom that awaited me on the morrow. The
tears filled my eyes as I prayed for forgiveness of my past sins, and
for strength to support me through the coming trial. The brig was
tumbling about on the almost calm sea, with all sails furled, except the
topgallantsail, which by some chance had broken adrift, and the crew,
not excepting the look-out man, were all asleep, when all at once the
report of a gun came booming over the water. The sound acted like magic
upon the slumbering crew--they were on the alert in a moment--the sails
were set with wonderful quickness--the sweeps were manned, and the
little schooner rippling through the water. Next morning we had
distanced the stranger considerably, and the pirate was in great hopes
of escaping; but the breeze freshened, and before noon the frigate, for
such she proved to be, had gained so much upon us, that her shot began
to tell upon us. I was now hurried below, and a sentry was placed over
me; the captain ordering him to blow my brains out if I attempted to
escape, and adding, 'I'll settle his account by and by.' It was with
impatience almost amounting to agony that I listened to the strange
medley of sounds which reached my ear--the creaking of the sweeps, the
curses and shouts of our crew cheering each other at their work, the
loud report of our guns, and the more faint and distant sound of those
of the frigate; and I prayed for deliverance--prayed that some lucky
ball might find its way into the cabin, and put an end to my suspense
and to my miseries at once. At last the sound of the sweeps ceased. I
heard the rattling of blocks and the sound of running feet. I felt, by
the motion of the vessel, that some alteration was made in her course,
and then--I burst into tears--I heard a voice hailing the brig! I felt
that the hour of my deliverance was at hand, and I breathed a prayer of
silent thankfulness to Heaven. Again there was a movement on deck, the
brig laid over to the breeze, and a loud shout burst from her crew, as
they discharged the guns. Merciful powers! she had escaped; and my
spirit sank within me. But the avenger of blood was behind us, and his
voice spoke in the thunder of his guns. I heard a crash upon deck, then
the noise of something coming down from aloft, followed by the muttered
curses of my sentry, as he exclaimed, 'The gaff is gone!' The report of
the frigate's guns now became louder and louder, and the little brig
absolutely staggered, when the grape-shot rattled against her sides. Her
crew, however, seemed to be fighting with the desperation of madmen, for
they maintained a warm fire. At last all was silent on board; the firing
ceased, and not even a voice could be heard. Presently I heard the dash
of oars; then the grating of a boat against the vessel's side; then loud
and angry voices, and afterwards all the sounds of a desperate conflict.
I looked up the companion--my sentinel had deserted his post, to join in
the fray. I saw the boat's crew of the frigate engaged in a deadly
struggle with the pirates. I rushed over to them, and had just joined
them, calling for help, when the pirate captain seized me by the
shoulder, and raised his tomahawk to cleave me to the deck. Weak as I
was, I must have fallen a victim to his fury, had not a gallant sailor
rushed between us, and inflicted a severe wound upon his upraised arm. I
saw my brave deliverer fall immediately afterwards by a pistol-shot; but
he was well avenged; for the next moment the pirate fell lifeless on his
body. I saw no more. I was carried, in a state of insensibility, on
board the frigate, and it was long before I recovered from the effects
of my severe discipline on board the pirate. As soon as I was
sufficiently recovered, I wished to hasten homewards immediately; but I
was obliged to remain, to give evidence against the crew of the
piratical brig, all of whom, with the exception of three or four,
suffered the extreme penalties of the law. And now, my dear father, my
tale is at an end, and grateful am I to the merciful Providence which
has restored me to your arms."
"My dear, dear son!--doubly endeared to me by the dangers you have
undergone on my account--I am thankful that my altered fortunes now
enable me to gratify what I know to be the dearest wish of your heart.
Go to her, John--go to Miss Winterton--she is worthy of you: no longer
restrained by the clog of poverty, you may freely indulge the feelings
of your heart."
As the father and son were walking along the road, they saw two men
approaching them at some distance.
"Whom have we here?" said John Hamilton.
"One of them is old Willie Duncan, a cottar of mine; and who the lame
man is that is with him I know not. By the by, I heard that his son was
returned from sea; perhaps that's the man."
Willie Duncan respectfully saluted his master, when he approached, and
said--
"I was just bringing my son to----"
"Good heavens!" exclaimed John Hamilton, gazing earnestly at the
disabled man; "it cannot be--yes, it is--my brave deliverer! My gallant
fellow," continued he, shaking him heartily by the hand, "how rejoiced I
am to see you, and to have an opportunity to prove my gratitude to you!
I heard you were dead--how did you escape?"
"Why, blow me, your honour, if you didn't take me quite aback. I
couldn't make you out at first--you're twice the man you were when I
see'd you on the pirate's deck; and I'd never no thoughts of falling in
with you so near home. I'm right glad, however, to see your honour once
more."
"Duncan," said Hamilton, senior, with a trembling voice, "I owe you a
debt I can never repay. You lost your limb in saving the life of my
son--it shall be my endeavour to make the loss to you as light as
possible."
"And is the gentleman the son of my father's good master? Then a fig for
the leg!--it couldn't have been lost in a better cause. And, as for
gratitude, sir, you owe me none; his honour, here, would have done the
same for me, if the case had been reversed, like--if he'd been the
sailor, and I'd been the gemman."
"Well, well, my good fellow--no doubt--we won't argue on that point;
only tell me how I can serve you, and I will do so, to the best of my
ability."
"Why, your honour, I wants for nothing just now. I've got a lot of
prize-money, and my father's snug roadstead to anchor in; but, if your
honour likes to give me a few ounces of baccy, I won't say but what I'll
be obligated to you."
"A modest request, certainly," said Mr Hamilton, laughing; "but we must
give you something better than tobacco, and as much of that as you like
into the bargain. Come, William, as your son won't speak, you must do so
for him. Tell me how I can best serve him."
A whispering consultation here took place between father and son, which
was put a stop to by the latter addressing Mr Hamilton in a sheepish,
confused manner, twirling his hat in his hands at the same time, and
feeling the rim all around, as if to ascertain that it was all there.
"Why, your honour, as your honour's so kind----Blow'd if I can speak
about it, father! You see, your honour, I'm a first-rate hand at a yarn
on a Saturday night; but, somehow, my jawing-tacks gets all bedevilled
when I begins to speak about _she_."
"And who's she?" said Mr Hamilton, laughing--"some old sweetheart that
has been waiting for you?"
"Why, it's bonny Jean Cameron that was when I went away. She's a widow
now, your honour, and, as I wants to be spliced, and she's no objection,
why, if it's not making too bold, if your honour would let us have one
of your empty cottages, we'd join company at once, and sail together for
the rest of our cruise."
We need hardly say that the sailor's request was cheerfully granted; and
in a few weeks he and his wife were happily settled in a neat cottage,
comfortably and substantially furnished by Mr Hamilton, who likewise
settled upon him an annuity, sufficient to keep him from want, but not
so large as to encourage habits of idleness or dissapation. John
Hamilton was equally successful in his suit; and his union with Ellen
Winterton proved that those who have been tried by adversity are best
qualified to enjoy prosperity.
THE PROFESSOR'S TALES.
THE THREE BRETHREN.
"Together such as brethren are,
In unity to dwell."
The unity of the three brethren about whom I am going to speak is
complete: some are united in heart and soul, but these are united in
body and frame: closer than the Siamese twins did their union abide,
till, in an evil hour, the winds smote them, and they were no
more--"_Sed stat nominis umbra._" They have left behind them a name and
a record which will not soon perish. They might have said--had speaking
been at all their forte--with Horace, "_Non omnis moriar."_ They shall
live in the recollection of the present, and in the records of future
times--at least it will not be from want of will, if the pages of the
"Tales of the Borders" do not transmit their memorial to late posterity.
The three brethren! you exclaim, quite naturally enough. What! were they
brothers by blood or by marriage--brothers in profession--or, like
Simeon and Levi, in iniquity? We should like to see the mist cleared
away, and the subject made tangible. Well, listen!
The three brethren were three trees, or rather divisions of one tree--as
like each other as one pea is to another--which once stood in the middle
of the high road from Glasgow to Dumfries, upon the banks of the Nith.
People had it that their similarity was so great that it reached the
details of their branches, and even leaves, and that they were in
every--even in the minutest--respect copies or fac-similes of each
other. Nobody living--and far less any one dead--can tell their age.
They saw Oliver Cromwell and his saintly crew march into Scotland; and
beheld, in later times, the Highland host, in the year '45, pass along.
They might have given an old chronicle of ancient times and manners, had
it not been that they probably did not outlive the age of Methuselah.
But
"Improvisa vis lethi rapuit
Rapietque gentes."
Destruction came in the shape of a nor'wester, and they are now in the
act of being converted into snuff-boxes, writing-desks, and
dressing-cases, for their old and attached acquaintances and friends;
every one seems more anxious than another to obtain a relic of the
immortal triumvirate--and they are more likely to be remembered with
pleasurable feelings than even were the Triumvirates of ancient Rome.
But now that they have bowed their heads, and given up their roots, it
is proper that some effort should be made to perpetuate their memory;
and who so fit as an old Closeburn man to execute this bold but
praiseworthy task?
The explanation, however, requires a glance at the race of gipsies, one
of whom thus characterises the race:--
"My bonny lass, I work in brass--
A tinkler is my station--
I've travell'd round all Christian ground
In this my occupation.
I've ta'en the gold--I've been enroll'd
In many a noble squadron--
In vain they search'd, when off I march'd,
To go and clout the caldron."
The gipsies have now disappeared entirely from the north of Scotland;
even in Fife, the former residence of the gipsy clan Jamphrey, no such
variety of the species is to be found. Their chief residence, as we have
had occasion to say before, is now on the Borders, where, in the village
of Yetholm, and in Langtown, they still maintain a separate clanship.
They still are, and have always been, extremely jealous of the marriage
of any of their daughters, in particular, out of the tribe. Hence the
fact, that almost every third person amongst them labours under some
mental peculiarity or defect. Their male youths enjoy greater latitude;
yet, on their alliance with the Philistine fair, they are usually looked
down upon, and regarded as a kind of amphibious race, who, like the
"Proselytes of the Gate" amongst the Jews, were not admitted into equal
communion. Their children are brought up (at least were so, till of
late) in the most religious contempt of the alphabet. Nor are any moral
principles inculcated, beyond successful thieving--that is, downright
knavery--and dexterity of execution as workmen, whether it be in forming
a ram's horn into a cutty spoon, or in appropriating the fattest hens
from the farmer's bauks. Their women, too, are expert fortunetellers,
and have husbands ready-made for sixpence. They are a fearful, fearless
race, wandering about, in former times, almost during the whole year,
and pitching their tents--in other words, setting their asses to graze,
and themselves to forage--wherever solitude or the tolerance of the
laird or farmer will permit their presence. When Scotland, in general,
and Dumfries-shire in particular, from Criffell to Corsincon, were
densely covered with natural wood, these people divided the woodland
with the fox, the boar, and the wolf, and were extremely expert in
noosing hares, rabbits, and polecats. Theirs was the bow, and ultimately
the long-barrelled gun, for securing the fowls of heaven; and the set
line, liester, and fishing-rod for the tenants of the water.
As was the case with the Roman of old--"_Patres ad insignem deformitatem
puerum cito necaverunt;_" in other words, and in a different tongue,
they put their diseased and deformed offspring to death; and more than
one-half of those which were permitted to survive were killed in a year
or two by harsh usage, cold, and imperfect clothing. Thus their youth
which did survive these manifold trials and risks rose up into man and
womanhood, proud, hardy, strong, well-seasoned plants, exhibiting much
muscular power and symmetry in the male, and occasionally uncommon
beauty and figure in the female form.
The "wild gazelle exulting" and bounding on the hills of Judah was not
more elastic in its motion, nor penetrating and fascinating in its
glance, than were many of the fairer wives and daughters of these hordes
of part mendicant, part predatory, and part artist wanderers. Their
chief resorts, in ancient times, were to the banks of the Hermitage and
Slitterick, near Hawick; to the banks of the Dee, near Kirkcudbright;
and, above and beyond all, to the woods of Colliston, and the linns of
Balachun, on the Nith, in Dumfries-shire; and it is to this last
locality that the following narrative particularly refers.
It was about the middle of the month of October that a packman, or
pedlar, with an enormous chest laid transverse on his shoulders, was
seen wending his way up the banks of the Nith, from Manchester to
Glasgow. He had hoped to have reached Thornhill, then an exceedingly
small village, before dusk; but this being his first migration in this
direction, he found himself so surrounded and obstructed by the river
Nith on the one hand, the linns of Balachun on the other, and an almost
impenetrable wood in front, that night came upon him, dark and moonless,
whilst still pushing his way through brambles, thorns, and every species
of tangling and perplexing underwood. At last, despairing of extricating
himself, and terrified, at the same time, by the roaring of waters,
howling of wild beasts, and hooting of owls, he extricated his shoulders
from the pack-bands, and, selecting as dry and soft an apartment as
circumstances permitted, he set himself down on the grassy turf, with a
birch branch for his canopy, and the old stump of a tree for his lean.
In a little time he was alarmed by the cries of what appeared to be a
child in the act of being cruelly murdered. Mungo Clark (for such was
the packman's name) rose, and, advancing a few steps in the direction of
the now faintly-emitted sounds, found a hare in the act of expiring of
strangulation by means of a noose, or girn, formed of strong wire, and
placed so as to intercept a little footpath made by the feet of the wild
animals of the forest. Mungo was in the act of disengaging the dead
creature from its executioner, the noose, when he heard the rustling as
if of a lion on the spring, very near him, and all at once he found
himself in the iron grip of a customer with whom he had no wish, on
this occasion at least, to deal.