THE PORTE OF THE SPUR.
"What! no reprieve, no least indulgence given,
No beam of hope from any point of heaven?
Ah, mercy! mercy! art thou dead above?
Is love extinguished in the source of love?"
_The Last Day_, Book III.
Redhall's second wound was of the most dangerous kind. It was below
that inflicted by Roland, but nearer the region of the heart; it bled
profusely; and his blind passion and fury on discovering that Lady
Jane had really escaped, carried him beyond all bounds. While
Trotter sprang on horseback, and galloped off for John of the
Silvermills, and Dobbie, armed with the warrant, was despatched to
recapture the fugitive Jane and her brother the earl, and have them
secured in the castle of Edinburgh, Redhall, in a paroxysm of rage
and despair, so great that it rendered him supine and powerless, lay
on his bed as in a swoon, until the arrival of the physician, on
whom, as on all, he enjoined (under the most tremendous threats)
solemn silence concerning a wound, the inflicter of which he declined
to name.
The strong emotions of anger and revenge, which, with every fresh
interview, rejection, and defeat, had been gradually gathering in his
heart, had now indeed swollen, drop by drop, to the torrent he had
predicted; and, like the reed upon the current, she was about to be
swept away with it.
"Harkye, Dobbie!" said he, through his clenched teeth, between which
the blood was oozing, as he writhed in agony on his bed; "harkye!
give me thy thumb; silence on all this--as thou livest, my good man
and true--silence on this matter--I tell thee _silence_! Here is the
warrant--seek the Albany herald and captain of the guard--quick! have
this woman committed to ward, as it imports!"
"Should she say she has been our prisoner already?"
"Begone, fool! who would believe her? Hence--hence, my God!--go,
wretch," he added, in a low, hissing voice, as Dobbie hurried away;
"go, and accomplish this my work of vengeance; and, one day or other,
I shall brush thee, too, from my path, like the bloated spider thou
art!"
In half an hour the physician arrived; and the light of the dull grey
dawn presented a figure which certainly had something very appalling
in it, for, in his haste, he had come away wearing a mask which was
furnished with two large, green, globular glass eyes, to protect his
face from the poisonous air and scorching heats of his laboratory.
His high and wrinkled forehead lowered above it, and his long beard
flowed below.
The wound was speedily bathed and salved; and lint, with a bandage,
was applied.
"Thou seest, friend, that I find this new office of king's advocate
no sinecure," said Redhall, with a fierce smile. "A thousand
furies--how the wound smarts!"
"'Tis the _unguentum armarium_," replied the learned John, with
medical composure; "one touch is sufficient to make such a wound as
this shrink to the size of a pin-thrust, and two ought to efface it."
"I feel as if the dagger was still in my heart! Two touches cure,
sayest thou?"
"Yea, my lord."
"I pray they may do so."
"They must, Sir Adam, if thou followest rigidly my prescriptions,
which are here," and from his pouch he produced various phials marked
with those cabalistic figures which are still so much in vogue among
apothecaries. These he drew up in line, with their labels hanging
like shields before them. "Here is my Elixir of Life, which the care
of many a long year hath yet failed to perfect, for the lack of a
certain herb which groweth in Arabia Petræa, and is the real _arbor
vitæ_--the tree of life of the patriarchs; but still, its restorative
and strengthening properties are wondrous! Here are my mercurial
balm and the essence of acorns, which last giveth to the bones the
strength of the oak tree, and to the nerves and sinews the toughness
and tenacity of the ivy. A spoonful of each are taken night and
morning, dissolved in a little warm water; and doubt not, Sir Adam,
that this day week will behold you a strong man, and well--yea, with
redoubled energies, like those whom the Cassida of the pagan Romans
restored to life."
And with these words the physician retired, leaving Redhall to writhe
and struggle, in solitude, with his mental and bodily agonies--the
former outdoing the latter by a thousand-fold.
Our learned astrologer enjoyed a great reputation in Edinburgh, and
doubtless would have enjoyed a still greater in the present day, if
we may judge of the success of southern quacks and quackeries; as
they, like everything that is English, enjoy a vast popularity among
the Scottish vulgar.
At this time Lady Jane Seton was at the porch of the palace, from
whence Dobbie had dispatched one soldier for the Albany herald, and
another to Sir John Forrester. On reviving, she found herself
surrounded by arquebusiers in their steel caps, gorgets, and
bandoliers, gazing on her with bold and scrutinizing eyes.
"What manner o' lassie is this?" said they, crowding round her chair,
and winking to each other. "A dainty bird--i'faith!" said one.
"What hands;--how white!" said another.
"What ankles!" said a third connoisseur, stooping down. "Soul o' my
body! but a glisk o' these would damn St. Anthony and St. Andrew to
boot!"
"I am Jane Seton of Ashkirk," said she, suddenly opening her eyes,
and looking wildly and imploringly upon them; "oh, where is your
captain, my good soldiers--where is Sir John of Corstorphine?"
"He will be here immediately, madam," said one, while the rest fell
back respectfully and abashed, and several felt themselves
constrained to uncover before her, and remove their helmets. Though
every man in the ranks of the royal guard was a born vassal and
kinsman of the house of Hamilton, that inborn respect for gentle
blood which the Scots possess in a high degree, together with that
generous frankness which the camp always teaches, impressed with
silence the thirty soldiers who occupied the court-of-guard; and the
noisy jests and laughter, which first greeted and surrounded Lady
Jane, immediately became hushed.
Seeing that she was faint and pale, one, without being asked, filled
his drinking-horn with water, and brought it to her. Her fine eyes
gave him a look of thankfulness that sank deep into the honest
fellow's heart, and then she drank thirstily.
Pulling a ring from her finger, she offered it to him, but he shook
his head, and drew back, saying, with a smile:--
"Nay, lady; a die sae braw is useless to the like o' me, a puir
soldier-lad."
"But I owe thee something for thy kindness."
"You owe me nothing, Lady Jean; my mother was a Seton."
At that moment Sir John Forrester, who had been summoned from his
lodgings in the palace, and had come forth armed with soldier-like
alacrity, entered, with his visor up, displaying the sad and dark
cloud that hovered on his brow; for the watchful Dobbie had met him
in the palace-yard, and placed in his hand the warrant for Lady
Jane's arrest and "committal to ward," as they phrased it in those
days.
"To your arms!" said he, waving his hand to the soldiers, who
immediately took their arquebuses from the rack, where they stood in
a row, and leaving the guard-house, fell into their ranks before it.
"My dear Lady Jane," said the courtly knight, taking both her hands
in his, the moment they were left alone; "from what has all this
frightful affair arisen?"
Jane answered only with her tears.
"Lady--dear lady, of what are you guilty?"
"Ask the leaders of your faction, Sir John," she replied, bitterly;
"but ask not me."
"My faction, lady?"
"Thou servest the Court?"
"Nay, madam, I serve the king, like Sir Roland Vipont, whose fast
friend I am; and as such, I beg permission to be thine."
"I thank you, Sir John Forrester," replied Jane, with another
passionate burst of tears; "but were my father and the Lord Angus
here, as of old, I had needed no other friends; but, alas! the one
lieth now in his grave at St. Giles's, while the other is a poor and
impoverished exile, compelled to eat the bread of Englishmen. Alas!
I am now totally forsaken."
"Nay, lady; for here stand I, John Forrester of Corstorphine, ready
to be your champion; and as such, to maintain your innocence against
all men living, body for body, according to the laws of battle and of
arms."
"A thousand thanks, Sir John; but remember, Sir Roland Vipont claims
priority in that. Meanwhile, let me leave this place."
"And dost thou know for where?"
"Oh, yes," she replied, with a bitter smile; "for the castle of
Edinburgh; be it so; I am not the first of my race who has paid
clearly the penalty of opposing tyranny. There were Sir John de
Seton, and his kinsman Sir Christopher de Seton, captain of Lochdoon,
who were so barbarously murdered after surrender by English Edward,
and my grandsire, William Seton, who fell at Verneuil, fighting
against the English, under Lord Buchan, the Constable of France. Let
us go--let us go! the sooner this frightful drama is ended the
better. Oh, they are good men and gallant soldiers, those courtiers
of King James--those slaves and parasites of Arran. Sir John, I
await you."
"But you cannot go thus--on foot, lady. Excuse me, but for a moment."
He dispatched a messenger to the palace for a horse and a pillion,
and to beg the favour of a riding-cloak from the Lady Barncleugh;
both of which were brought in a few minutes.
In this interval, Jane, with great energy but incoherence, and amid
frequent bursts of tears and indignation, had related the story of
her abduction and retention by Redhall; but, dreading to criminate
her brother, or afford, even to this friendly gentleman, the least
clue to his flight, she blundered the whole episode of her escape,
and became so perplexed and confused, that Sir John Forrester
considered the whole affair as a mere hallucination, and listened
with a face expressive only of pity and sincere sorrow; and thus she
found her tale received by all to whom she afterwards ventured to
relate it; for the reputation for high moral worth and sterling
integrity enjoyed by Redhall, placed him as on a lofty pedestal,
above the reach of ordinary calumny, though some men did at times
shake their heads and look mysteriously at the mention of the gallant
Sir Thomas of Bombie, whose blood stained the steps at the north door
of St. Giles for many a year after the era of James V.
The sun was up and shone joyously on the palace towers and the vanes
of its ancient porch, on the battlements of the traitor's tower
(which Moyse speaks of in his memoirs), and the beautiful façade
designed by Hamilton of Fimart, when Lady Jane was led forth from the
pointed archway.
She was mounted on the pillion behind Sir John Forrester; and
thereafter followed by the Albany herald with the warrant, and a
party of the guard marching with matches cocked and lighted, she
proceeded at a rapid pace towards the castle; for even at that early
hour the High-street was beginning to be busy. The guards and
warders were unclosing the portes and barriers; the merchants were
opening their booths, and displaying their wares under those long
arcades which then were on both sides of the street, and remnants of
which still exist in several places; farm horses laden with barrels,
baskets, and boxes were pouring into the markets, and the
water-carriers were crowding round the fountains at the Cross and the
Mile-end.
A party of the king's guard, with a knight in full armour, and a
female prisoner riding behind him, drew the burgesses from all
quarters to the centre of the street.
"Jean Seton of Ashkirk," flew from mouth to mouth, mingled with
mutterings of commiseration and hatred, as the sympathies or
antipathies of the rabble led them. Many there were who mourned that
one so young and fair should be made another sacrifice to the
animosity avowedly borne by the king and the court against that
humbled faction which had triumphed over both so long, and many there
were who remembered the deadly strife of 1520:--
"When startled burghers fled afar,
The furies of the border war;
When the streets of high Dunedin,
Saw axes gleam, and falchions redden;"
when, sheathed in full mail, her father, at the head of a hundred
barbed horsemen, had thrice hewn a passage through the barricaded
streets, giving to death and defeat the spearmen of Arran. Many
women, whose husbands and fathers, lovers and brothers, had fallen on
that terrible 29th of April, recalled their treasured hatred as
keenly as if the strife of seventeen years had been enacted but
seventeen hours ago, and openly, bitterly, and unpityingly reviled
her.
"A Hamilton! a Hamilton!"
"Doon wi' the Setons! doon wi' the Douglases! doon wi' the star and
the bluidy heart!"
"Set her up, wi' her lace and her pearlings sae braw, when an honest
wife like me wears but a curstsey o' flannel!"
"Holy Virgin!" cried another crone in a grey cloak and a
flanders-mutch; "and to think I hae taen an awmous frae this Seton
sorceress! 'Twas weel I had my relique o' blessed St. Roque aboot
me!"
"Fie upon thee, thou fause Seton! Death to the witch! bones to the
fire, and soul to Satan!"
Full of horror at these frightful and opprobrious cries, this poor
being, whose gentleness had never created her a personal enemy,
surrounded by her guard and a vast mob that every moment grew more
dense as the street narrowed, arrived at the Castle-port, an ancient
and massive archway in the Spur, which then lay between the castle
and the town, covering the whole of what is now called the Esplanade,
and surmounted by a round bastion, displaying a flag and more than
twenty pieces of brass cannon.
There the governor of the fortress--the strong towers of which were
looming redly and grimly in the morning sunshine above the parapets
and glacis of this hornwork--received Lady Jane, as the king's
prisoner, from the herald and captain of the guard, who drew his
soldiers across the Castle-hill-street, to bear back the tumultuous
crowd, whose clamour reverberated with a thousand echoes in that high
and narrow thoroughfare.
Bareheaded and ungloved, the castellan, Sir James Riddel, of
Cranstoun-Riddel, a gallant and courtly soldier, received her with
the utmost respect, and assisted her to alight. As she did so her
riding hood fell back, and her pale and beautiful face was revealed
to the people, who began anew to murmur variously. Then it was (such
is the power of beauty) that many pitied, though more still hated and
upbraided her; for the tide of common clamour in Edinburgh was
against the Angus faction, among whom, in camp and council, her
father and brother had borne a prominent part, having more than once,
at the point of the sword, thrust their vassals as magistrates upon
the people.
Confused and terrified by a scene so unusual, Jane murmured she knew
not what, as her thanks and adieux to Sir John Forrester, and gave
her hand to the governor, who led her within the archway, on the
battlements of which was seen the head of the Master of Forbes, who a
short time before had been beheaded for raising a sedition in the
Scottish camp at Fala, and attempting to shoot King James with an
arquebuse. Though pale and exhausted by the terrors of the night,
with eyes purple and inflamed by weeping, she gave a sad and perhaps
scornful smile at that strong arch, the massive wall, and iron-jagged
gate, whereon her father once had nailed his glove in defiance of
Arran; but her heart sunk when she really found herself within those
lofty walls, where so many had pined in hopeless captivity; nor could
she repress a shudder when the rattling portcullis closed behind her,
sinking slowly down with a jarring sound between its stony grooves.
The Lady of Cranstoun-Riddel, a kind, and (as the Scots term it)
"motherly body," now approached her, and said,--
"Lady Jane Seton, in the name of the blessed Mary, what is the
meaning of all this?"
"Dearest madam, I know as little as thee," said Jane, throwing
herself upon the bosom of this kind matron, rejoicing to find that
one of her own sex, who, though even an entire stranger, could
sympathize with her, and who, in age, appearance, and manner so
nearly resembled her beloved mother. "Indeed, madam," continued
Jane, sobbing, "I swear to you that I am ignorant of the cause; but I
am accused of murder, of sorcery, of treason, and I know not what
more,--I, that have not the heart to kill even the smallest insect.
There must indeed be sorcery in this, but not with me."
"My puir bairn! my pair bairn! thou must thole mickle ere these dark
charges are cleared and refuted."
"Yea, madam; for, as my brother truly said, we are but the victims
and playthings of tyranny and misrule."
"Lady," said Sir James Riddel, gravely, but respectfully, "you are
here by the orders of James V. and his eminence the cardinal, who
fourteen days ago sent me instructions to receive you, but you had
disappeared on the very night his warrant was issued. Remember,
lady, that the king is king; besides, my lord advocate--pardon me if
my words disturb you, for I am a rough old rider of James III.'s
days, and unused to speaking daintily."
Jane shuddered at the name of her persecutor; and hurriedly, but with
more coherence than before, began the story of her recent abduction,
and more recent escape. Again, to her infinite chagrin, she found
that she was utterly disbelieved, for the knight regarded her with a
kind but sad smile of commiseration, as one whom terror had slightly
"demented;" she saw him elevate his eyebrows, and nod perceptibly as
he exchanged a glance with his lady, who kindly smoothed Jane's
glossy hair, kissed her again as a mother would have done, and led
her through the Spur, and up the Castle-rock towards King David's
Tower. Stung to the soul by this provoking disbelief, she became
immediately silent, and resolved to explain no more.
As they proceeded through the vast hornwork, which, as we have said,
covered the whole Castle-hill, between the loopholes and embrasures
she obtained glimpses of the rough bank that shelved abruptly down to
the loch on the north, and of the reedy loch itself, where the wild
ducks and swans were floating, and of the bare ridge of pasture-land
where now the modern city is built.
"So I am now a captive in the castle of Edinburgh, while my poor
mother pines on Inchkeith! Where will the events of this dark drama
end?" thought she; and her heart sank lower still as the gigantic
gates of the Constable's Tower were closed and barred behind her.