Wallace--that fat overgrown _bellygerent_ son of Mars, so famous, in his
day, for vaunting of feats of arms, at Bothwell, (where he never was,) over
the Mayor's wine, and in presence of his fair daughter, whom he thus
courted after the manner of the noble Moor, with a slight difference as to
the truth of his feats scarce worth mentioning. It appeared to Hume, as he
listened, that Wallace, and the Mayor, who was with him, had sallied out,
after the fourth bottle, in search of Isabel--a suspicion verified by the
speech of the warlike Captain.
"Did I not tell thee, Mr Mayor," said the Governor, in a voice that
reverberated among the walls, and fell distinctly on Hume's ear, "that she
would be about the fortifications? Ha!--anything appertaining to war
delighteth the fair creature as much as it did that rare author, Will
Shakspeare's Desdemona. If I had been as black as the Moor--ay, or as the
devil himself--my prowess at Bothwell would have given this person of mine,
albeit somewhat enlarged, the properties of beauty in the eyes of
noble-spirited women--so much do our bodies borrow from the qualities of
our souls."
"Where is she?" rejoined the Mayor. "I like not that love of the
fortifications. It is the outside of the walls she loves. See, she flies,
conscience-smitten. I like not this, my noble Captain--see, there is
Patrick Hume beyond the wall, if thou hast courage, drive thy pike through
that loop, and, peradventure, ye may blind a Hume for life."
"I like to strike a man fair--body to body--as we did on the Bridge of
Bothwell," responded the Captain. "Ha! ha! Give me the loop-hole of a good
bilbo-thrust, out of which the soul wings its flight in a comfortable
manner. Nevertheless, to please my noble friend the mayor, and to get quit
of a rival, I may" (lowering his voice to a whisper) "as well kill him in
the way thou hast propounded; but I assure thee, upon my honour, I would
much rather have the fellow before me, without the intervention of these
plaguey walls, that come thus in the way and march of one's valour. There
goes!"
On looking-up, Hume saw the Captain's bilbo thrusting manfully through the
night air, as if it would pierce the night gnomes and spirits that love to
hang over old battlements. Taking out his handkerchief, he wrapped it round
his hand, and seizing the point of the sword, gave it a jerk, which (and
the consequent terror) disengaged it from the hand of the pot-valiant hero
of Bothwell. A shout of fear was heard from within.
"Stop! stop! mine good Mr Mayor!" cried the Captain to the Mayor, who had
begun to fly; "I do not see, as yet, any very great, that is, serious cause
of apprehension; but, I forget, thou wert not at Bothwell. By my honour,
I've done for him! He hath carried off my sword in his body. Was it Patrick
Hume, saidst thou? Then is he dead as my grandmother, and no more shall he
follow after my betrothed, or threaten thee with the downfall of the
Newmilne dam-dike. All I sorrow for is my good sword, which, but for that
accursed loop, I might have redrawn from his vile carcass, and thus saved
my property at the same time that I gave the carrion crows of old Berwick a
dinner."
"Ah! but he's a devil that Hume," responded the Mayor. "Long has he hounded
after my daughter Bell; and though it is now likely near an end with him, I
should not like to come in the way of the dying tiger. Let us home."
The sound of the retreating warriors brought back Hume to the loop-hole, to
see if Isabel was still there, to whom he was anxious to propose a plan,
whereby he might (with the gay romp's most cheerful good-will and hearty
co-operation) carry her off from the contaminating embrace of the
pot-valiant Governor, with whom she was to be wed on that day se'ennight.
He waited a long time, but no Isabel came. He suspected that the Mayor,
after having caught her speaking to him, (Hume,) his most inveterate foe,
would, as he had often done before, lock her up, and set the noble Captain
as a guard upon his lady-love. Cursing his unlucky fate, that brought them
out to interrupt his converse with the mistress of his heart, and prevent
the arrangement of an elopement, he bent the Captain's bilbo hilt to point
till it rebounded with a loud twang, and stepping away up the Tweed, fell
into a deep meditation as to the manner by which he should secure Isabel.
As he went along, his eye fell upon that source of so much contention
between the men of Berwick and the border barons, the dam-dike of the
Newmilne, and against which the Lord Hume, as well as himself and many of
the neighbouring knights and lairds, had vowed destruction. A thought
flashed across his mind, and his eye sparkled in the moonbeam, as brightly
as did the Captain's sword, which he still held in his hand.
"I have hit it!" he cried, as he clapped his hand on his limb, and the
sound echoed back from the mill-walls. "For spearing a salmon or a
Southron, dissolving that old foolish tenure between a proprietor and his
cattle, or cutting the tie of forced duty between a rich old Mayor and his
daughter, where shall the bastard of Hume be equalled on the Borders? My
fair Bell, thou wouldst spring with the elasticity of this bent blade, and
dance like these moonbeams in the Tweed, if thou wert in the knowledge of
this thought that now tickles the wild fancy of thy lover, whom thou
equallest in all that belongest to the gay heart and the bounding spirit."
Occupied with these thoughts, Patrick went home to the castle of the Humes;
and, next morning, he bent his way to Foulden, where he sought Lord Ross's
baillie, James Sinclair, a man who had a very hearty spite against the
obstruction to the passage of the Tweed salmon. With him he communed for a
considerable time, and thereafter he proceeded to Paxton and to others of
the gentlemen in the vicinity. The subject of these interviews will perhaps
best be explained by the following placard, which appeared in various parts
of Berwick in two days thereafter:--
"On Friday last, the tenant of Newmilne, belonging to the toun of Baricke,
gave information to our honourable Mayor, who has communicated the same to
our gallant Governor, Captain Wallace, that the Lord Hume and other the
Scotch gentlemen, our neighbours, do, on Monday next, intend to be at the
Newmilne aforesaid, by tenn of the clock of the morninge; and that they had
summoned their tenants to be then and there present, alsoe, to assist in
the breaking downe and demolishing the dam of the said Newmilne; and that
the Lord Ross his bailiffe of Foulden had given out in speeches, that he
was desired to summon the said Lord Ross, his tenants, and inhabitants of
Foulden barronry, to be then and there aiding and assisting them, alsoe,
for better effecting the same: Whereupon, it is necessary, that, at a
ringing of a belle, our tounsmen, headed by our Mayor, and directed by the
warlike genius of Captain Wallace, should proceed to the said Newmilne, and
give battle in defence of the said dike, which is indispensable to the
existence of the toun's property. God save the Mayor!"
The effect produced by this proclamation was rapid and stirring. The
English, at that period, had contrived to raise a strong prejudice in the
minds of the Berwick burghers against the Border Scots; and the
intelligence that the daring robbers intended to demolish their property,
inflamed them to the high point of resolution to fight under their valorous
Captain, while one stone of the dike remained on another, and one drop of
blood was left in their bodies. Hume, who had a greater part in the
occasion of these preparations than had been made apparent, got secret
intelligence, on all that was going on within the town; but none of his
vigils at the loop-hole were rewarded with a sight of his spirited Isabel,
who, he understood, had been confined in her father's house since the night
on which she had been discovered upon the wall. Meanwhile, the preparations
for the defence of the town's property proceeded; and, on the Monday
morning, a bell, whose loud tongue spoke "war's alarums," sounded over town
and walls, spreading fear among the timid, and rousing in the noble breasts
of the valorous proud and swelling resolutions to give battle to the Border
robbers, in the style of their ancestors. Ever since the first
announcement, they had been drilled by the Captain, whose loud command of
voice, proud bearing, bent back (bent in self-defence against the
counterpoise of his stomach), and martial strut, filled them with great awe
of his power, and great confidence in his abilities. Many hundred people,
"on horse and foote," (we use the language of our old chronicle), "were
gathered together, considerably armed with swordes, pistolles, firelocks,
blunderbushes, foalingpieces, bowes and arrowes of the tyme of the first
Edward, and uther powerful ammunition, fit to resist the ryot of the
Scotch; and away they marched to the newe miln, with Mr Mayor and the
Governor (a verrie terrible man of war--to be married the morn to the
Mayor's dochter Isabel, if he come back with lyffe), and the sergeants with
their halberts, and constables with their staves, going before them." In
front, there was beat some thundering engines of warlike music, which was
cut occasionally by sharp screams of small fifes, blown into by the burgher
amateurs of that lively musical machine. Altogether, the cavalcade
presented many appearances of a stern and warlike nature, which might well
have prevented the Scotch raiders from proceeding with their felonious
intention of driving down the obstruction to the salmon, and forced them to
remain content with the angling of trout and parr. The "verrie sight" of
the brave Wallace was deemed sufficient by those who followed him, "to put
an end to the fraye before it was begunne."
This extraordinary cavalcade was seen passing along the road by Patrick
Hume, who had, with his companions, retired behind some brushwood, the
better to enjoy the sight. The warriors passed on, and every now and then
the loud voice of the captain was heard commanding and exhorting his troops
to keep up their courage for the coming strife. When the last file was
disappearing, Hume and his companions made the woods resound with a loud
laugh, and, starting up, and crying, "For Berwick, ho!" they hurried away
in the direction of the town, which the Governor, in his anxiety to form a
large assemblage, had left without a guard. Meanwhile the burgher army
pushed on for Newmilne; "and, when they came there," (says the chronicle),
"they pitched their camp; and nae doubt butt they were well disciplined,
seeing theye had the advantage of the Captain's training, with the great
blessing attour of weapons suitable--viz., rusty ould swords and pistolles;
and they continued about three or foure houres on the bankes and about the
milne: still there was nae appearance of the Scotch coming to fecht with
them." For a long time the Captain was solemn and quiet; but when it
appeared that the Scots "were not to come to show fecht," he got as wordy
as a blank-verse poet, and stood up in the face of a neighbouring wood,
from which it was expected the enemy would emanate, and called upon the
cowards (as he styled them) to come out "and dare to touche one stone of
the milne dam-dike."
"Did I not tell thee, Mr Mayor," he cried, "that I killed Patrick Hume? If
not, where is he now, and he the Lord Ross of Foulden, and he of Paxton,
and all the rest of the Border heroes? Come forth from thy wood recesses,
if there be as much pluck in thee as will enable thee to meet the fire of
the eye of the Governor of Berwick! Ha! ha! The rascals must have been at
Bothwell, where, doubtless, they felt the pith of this arm. There goeth the
disadvantage of bravery! The devil a man will encounter one whose name is
terrible, and I fear I may never have the luxury of a good fight again.
This day I expected to have fleshed my good sword. To-morrow is my
wedding-day. How glorious would it have been to have made it also a day of
victory! I could almost hack these unconscious trees for very spite, and to
give my sword the exercise it lacketh."
And he swung his falchion from side to side, cutting off the tops of the
young firs, just as if they had been men's heads; but no Scotchman made his
appearance. The whole bells of Berwick now began to swing and ring as if
the town had been invaded; and messengers, breathless and panting, arrived
at the camp, and communicated the intelligence that the Bastard of Hume
had, with a body of men, got entrance to the Mayor's house, by shewing the
guard the Governor's sword, and carried off Isabel, the Mayor's daughter,
who was more willing to go than to stay. The route of the fugitives was
distinctly laid down, and it was represented by the messengers that, by
crossing over a couple of miles, they had every chance of overtaking them
and reclaiming the disobedient maid. The recommendation was instantly
seized by the distracted Mayor, and a shout of the burgher forces, and an
accompanying peal from the drums and fifes, shewed the desire of the men to
fulfil the wish of their master. The captain's spirit was changed. He
burned to reclaim his bride; but he feared the Bastard of Hume, whose
prowess was acknowledged far and wide from the Borders. Shame did what
could not have been accomplished by love; and, putting himself, with a mock
warlike air, at the head of the troops, away he posted as fast as sixteen
stone of beef, penetrated by alternate currents of fear, shame, and valour,
would permit. The musical instruments of war were hushed; and as the forces
hurried on, panting and breathing, not a voice was heard but the occasional
vaunts of the captain, who found it necessary to conceal his fear by these
running shots of assumed valour. As fate would have it, the Berwickers came
up with the Bastard's party, who, with the gay and laughing Isabel in the
midst of them, were seated, as they thought securely, in the old Berwick
wood, enjoying some wine, which she, with wise providence, had handed to
one of the men as a refreshment when they should be beyond danger. The
sounds of merriment struck on the ear of the invaders; they stopped, and
thought it safer, in the first instance, to reconnoitre--a step highly
eulogized by the Captain, who seemed to want breath as well from the toil
of the chase as from some misgivings of his valour, which had come, like
qualms of sickness, over his stout heart.
"Ha! traitor!" cried the Mayor, "the device of sending us to Newmilne will
not avail thee. Give me my daughter, traitor!" addressing himself to the
Bastard, who stood now in the front of the party, all prepared for a tough
defence.
"In either of two events thou shalt have her," cried Hume--"if thou canst
take her, or if she is willing to go with thee."
"No, no!" cried the sprightly maid herself, coming boldly forward. "I love
my father and the good citizens of Berwick, and none of them shall lose a
drop of their blood for Isabel. If we are to have battle, let it be between
the two lovers who claim my hand. By the honour of a Mayor's daughter, I
shall be his who gaineth the day! Stand forward, Patrick Hume and Governor
Wallace."
"Bravo!" shouted the burghers, delighted with a scheme that smacked so
sweetly of justice and safety.
All eyes were now turned on the Captain; and Isabel, delighted with her
scheme, was seen concealing her face with the corner of her cloak, to
suppress her laughter. The Captain saw, however, neither justice nor safety
in the scheme, and, edging near the Mayor, whispered into his ear his
intention not to fight. Palpable indications of fear were escaping from his
trembling limbs, and the hero of Bothwell was on the eve of being
discovered. Hume was prepared--he stood, sword in hand, ready for the
combat.
"Come forward, Captain!" cried the Bastard.
"Come forward!" resounded from Isabel, and a hundred voices of the
burghers.
"I am the Governor of Berwick," answered the hero, in a trembling voice,
keeping the body of the Mayor between him and Hume. "As the servant of the
King, I dare not" (panting) "run the risk of reducing my
authority--by--by--engaging, I say, by committing myself in single combat,
like a knight errant, for a runaway damsel. It comporteth not with my
dignity--hegh--hegh--I say, I cannot come down from the height of my glory
at Bothwell, by committing myself in a love brawl. But ye are my
men--hegh--hegh--ye are bound to fight when I command. Do your duty--on,
on, I say, to the rescue."
"We want not the wench," responded many voices. "He that will not fight for
his love, deserves to lose her for his cowardice." "Resign her, good
Mayor," cried others. "Give the damsel her choice," added others. "Bravo,
good fellows!" cried Bell, in the midst of her laughter; and a shout from
Hume's men rewarded her spirit. The enthusiasm was caught by the
Berwickers, some of whom, observing certain indications thrown out by
Isabel, ran forward and got from her a flagon of good wine. The vessel was
handed from one to another. "Hurra for Hume!" shouted the Berwickers. The
tables were turned. All, to a man, were with Isabel and her partner. The
Mayor had sense enough to see his position. In any way he was to lose his
daughter, and he heartily despised the coward that would not fight for his
love.
"Hume," he cried, standing forward, "come hither; and, Isabel, approach the
side of thy father."
The laughing damsel ran forward, and, perceiving her absolute safety, flung
herself on her father's neck, and hung there, amidst the continued shouts
of the men.
"Forgive me, forgive me, father!" cried she. "My choice is justified by my
love, and the characters of my lovers. The one is a coward, the other a
brave youth. Hume's intentions are honourable, and I may be the respected
wife of one of noble blood."
"I forgive thee, Bell," answered the father. And he took her hand and
placed it in Hume's. "Come, Captain, forgive her too, and let us all be
friends."
He looked round for the Captain, and all the party looked also; but the
hero was gone. He had mounted a white Rosinante, as thin as he was fat, and
was busy striking her protruding bones with his sword, to propel her on to
Berwick, where he thought he would be more safe than where he was. The
figure he made in his retreat--his large swelled body on the lean jade,
like a tun of wine on a gantress--his anxiety to get off--his receding
position--his flight after such a day of vaunting--all conspired to render
the sight ludicrous in the extreme. One general burst of laughter filled
the air; but the Captain held on his course, and never stopped till he
arrived at Berwick. That day Hume and Isabel were wed--and a happy day it
was for the Berwickers; who, in place of fighting, were occupied in
drinking the healths of the couple. The device of Hume, in sending them to
the Newmilne, was admired for its ingenuity; and all Berwick rung with the
praises of Hume and his fair spouse. Regular entries were made in the
council books, of the expedition to the Newmilne, "where they braived the
Scottes to come and fecht them, butte the cowardes never appeared." But it
was deemed prudent to say nothing therein of Hume's trick, which,
doubtless, might have reduced the amount of bravery which it was necessary
should appear, for the honour of the town.
END OF VOL. XVII.
_Tubbs & Brook, Printers, Manchester._
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| |
| Transcriber's Note: |
| |
| Inconsistencies and unexpected spelling, punctuation and |
| hyphenation have been retained as they appear in the |
| original book except: |
| |
| Page 31 through the intrumentality has been changed to |
| through the instrumentality |
| |
| Page 43 and and unflinching opinion has been changed to |
| and an unflinching opinion |
| |
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