CHAPTER IX

In the meantime, as much friendliness and intercourse was maintained

between the families of Grippy and Plealands as could reasonably

be expected from the characters and dispositions of the respective

inmates. Shortly, however, after the conversation related in the

preceding chapter had taken place, it happened that, as Malachi was

returning on horseback from Glasgow, where he had lost a law-suit, long

prosecuted with the most relentless pertinacity against one of his

tenants, he was overtaken on the Mairns Moor by one of those sudden

squalls and showers, which the genius of the place so often raises, no

doubt purposely, to conceal from the weary traveller the dreariness

of the view around, and being wetted into the skin, the cold which he

caught in consequence, and the irritation of his mind, brought on a

fever, that terminated fatally on the fifth day.

His funeral was conducted according to the fashion of the age; but the

day appointed was raw, windy, and sleety; not, however, so much so as

to prevent the friends of the deceased from flocking in from every

quarter. The assemblage that arrived far transcended all that can be

imagined, in these economical days, of the attendance requisite on any

such occasion. The gentry were shown into the dining-room, and into

every room that could be fitted up with planks and deals for their

reception. The barn received the tenantry, and a vast multitude--the

whole clanjamphry from all the neighbouring parishes--assembled on the

green in front of the house.

The Laird in his lifetime maintained a rough and free hospitality; and,

as his kindred and acquaintance expected, there was neither scant nor

want at his burial. The profusion of the services of seed-cake and wine

to the in-door guests was in the liberalest spirit of the time; and

tobacco-pipes, shortbread, and brandy, unadulterated by any immersion

of the gauger’s rod, were distributed, with unmeasured abundance, to

those in the barn and on the green.

Mr. Kilfuddy, the parish minister, said grace to the gentry in the

dining-room; and the elders, in like manner, performed a similar part

in the other rooms. We are not sure if we may venture to assert that

grace was said to the company out of doors. Mr. Taws, the dominie of

Bodleton, has indeed repeatedly declared, that he did himself ask

a blessing; but he has never produced any other evidence that was

satisfactory to us. Indeed, what with the drinking, the blast, and the

sleet, it was not reasonable to expect much attention would be paid to

any prayer; and therefore we shall not insist very particularly on this

point.

The Braehill church-yard was at a considerable distance from

Plealands-house, and hearses not being then in fashion in that part

of the country, one of the Laird’s own carts was drawn out, and the

coffin placed on it for conveyance, while the services were going

round the company. How it happened, whether owing to the neglect of

Thomas Cabinet, the wright, who acted the part of undertaker, and who

had, with all his men, more to attend to than he could well manage, in

supplying the multitude with refreshments; or whether John Drappie,

the old servant that was to drive the cart, had, like many others,

got a service overmuch, we need not pause to inquire:--it, however, so

happened, that, by some unaccountable and never explained circumstance,

the whole body of the assembled guests arranged themselves in funereal

array as well and as steadily as the generality of them could, and

proceeded towards the church-yard--those in the van believing that

the cart with the coffin was behind, and their followers in the rear

committing a similar mistake, by supposing that it was before them

in front. Thus both parties, in ignorance of the simple fact, that

the coffin and cart were still standing at the house door, proceeded,

with as much gravity and decorum as possible, to the church-yard gate,

where they halted. As the gentlemen in front fell back to the right and

left, to open an avenue for the body to be brought up, the omission

was discovered, and also that there was no other way of performing the

interment but by returning, as expeditiously as possible, to the house

for the body.

By this time the weather, which had been all the morning cold and

blustering, was become quite tempestuous. The wind raved in the trees

and hedges--the sleet was almost thickened into a blinding snow,

insomuch, that, when the company reached the house, the greater number

of them were so chilled that they stood in need of another service, and

another was of course handed round on the green; of which the greater

number liberally and freely partaking, were soon rendered as little

able to wrestle against the wind as when they originally set out.

However, when the procession was formed a second time, Thomas Cabinet

taking care to send the cart with the coffin on before, the whole

moved again towards the church-yard, it is said, with a degree of less

decorum than in their former procession. Nay, there is no disguising

the fact, that more than two or three of the company, finding

themselves, perhaps, unable to struggle against the blast, either lay

down of their own voluntary accord on the road, or were blown over by

the wind.

When the procession had a second time reached the church-yard, and

Thomas Cabinet, perspiring at every pore, was wiping his bald head with

his coat sleeve, his men got the coffin removed from the cart, and

placed on the spokes, and the relatives, according to their respective

degrees of propinquity, arranged themselves to carry it. The bearers,

however, either by means of the headstones and the graves over which

their path lay, or by some other cause, walked so unevenly, that those

on the one side pushed against their corresponding kindred on the

other, in such a manner, that the coffin was borne rollingly along for

some time, but without any accident, till the relations on the right

side gave a tremendous lurch, in which they drew the spokes out of the

hands of the mourners on the left, and the whole pageant fell with a

dreadful surge to the ground.

This accident, however, was soon rectified; the neighbours, who were

not bearers, assisted the fallen to rise, and Thomas Cabinet, with his

men, carried the coffin to its place of rest, and having laid it on the

two planks which were stretched across the grave, assembled the nearest

kin around, and gave the cords into their hands, that they might lower

the Laird into his last bed. The betherel and his assistant then drew

out the planks, and the sudden jerk of the coffin, when they were

removed, gave such a tug to those who had hold of the cords, that it

pulled them down, head foremost, into the grave after it. Fortunately,

however, none were buried but the body; for, by dint of the best

assistance available on the spot, the living were raised, and thereby

enabled to return to their respective homes, all as jocose and as happy

as possible.

The Entail; or, The Lairds of Grippy · 第 9 / 102 章