along the banks of the river; the waters were bound, from side to side,
with a broad belt of ice, but, at the rapids, they could hear them
growling beneath, like a wild beast in its den; and, just as the evening
was beginning to darken, they descended into a deep hollow, surrounded
by immense precipices and overhung by trees, into the upper part of
which the stream precipitated itself in one unbroken sheet of foam,
which had resisted the extremest influence of the frost. Innes thought
he had never before seen a scene of wilder or more savage grandeur.
There was a lofty amphitheatre of rock all around; the centre was
occupied by a dark mossy basin, in which the waters boiled and bubbled
as in a huge caldron; a broad, level strip, edged with trees and bushes,
lay immediately under the precipices; and, directly beneath the
cataract, there was a fantastic assemblage of tall riven peaks, laden
with icicles, that seemed in the gloom a conclave of giants. A deep,
gloomy cavern, whose echoes answered incessantly to the roar of the
torrent, opened behind and under it; while, immediately in front, there
rose a large circular mound, roughened with a multitude of lesser
hillocks, and now wrapped up, like all the rest of the landscape, in a
deep covering of snow.
"'Tis an Indian burying-place," said the manager, pointing to the mound;
"wild and savage, you see, as the people who have chosen it for their
final resting-place. These hillocks are sepulchral cairns. My sister
spends most of her summer evenings here--for we are now little more than
a mile from the settlement; and she has taught me to be well-nigh as
fond of it as herself. Should she die in this country, I am pledged to
lay her among the poor Indians. There are strange stories among them of
yonder cave and cataract--the one is a place of purification, they say,
the other, a way to the land of spirits. I am certain you will feel much
interest, Mr Cameron, in discussing with Catherine what she terms the
beginnings of mythology, as illustrated by this place. She has naturally
an original and highly vigorous mind, and her father (by the way, she is
but a half-sister of mine) spared no pains in cultivating it. But now
that we have gained the ridge, yonder is the settlement; see--that
higher light comes from Catherine's window. Trust me, you may calculate
on her warmest gratitude for what her brother owes you."
Hawk River Settlement is situated in the middle of a valley, surrounded
by low, swelling hills, with a river in front, and a deep pine-wood
behind. It forms a small straggling village, composed mostly of
log-houses, with a range of stone and lime buildings--the store places
of the company--rising in the centre. On reaching the manager's house--a
handsome erection of two storeys--Innes and his companion were shown
into a small, but very neat parlour. There were books, musical
instruments, and drawings. The very arrangement of the furniture showed
the delicate and nicely-regulated taste of an accomplished female. The
shutters were fast barred, there were candles burning on a neat mahogany
table, and the cheerful wood-fire glowed through the bars of a grate,
and threw up a broad powerful flame, that, in the intense frost, roared
in the chimney.
"Ah," said Innes to the manager, "your neat, Scotch-looking parlour
brings Scotland to my mind, and my old evening parties; it reminds me,
too, that a dress of skins is not quite the fittest for meeting a young
lady in. Can you not indulge me with a change of dress?"
"Ah, how stupid I am," replied the manager, "not to have thought of
that! Attribute it all to my eagerness to introduce you to Catherine.
There is a whole chestful of clothes from London waiting you below. Come
this way. We shall join you, Sandy, in less than twenty minutes, when Mr
Cameron has made his toilet; and Catherine, meanwhile, will find what
amusement for you she can."
On their return, Catherine and the fur-gatherer were engaged in
conversation.
She was a lady of about two-and-twenty; paler of cheek and sparer of
form than she had been once; for there was an indescribable something in
her expression that served to tell of sufferings long endured, and
exertions painfully protracted; but she was still eminently beautiful;
and there was an air of mingled spirit and good-nature in the light of
her fine black eyes, and the smile that seemed lurking about her mouth,
that might well be termed fascinating. Sandy had evidently felt its
influence ere his companion entered the room.
"And what," eagerly inquired the lady, as the manager opened the door,
"is the name of your companion, the man to whom, with you, my brave,
warmhearted countryman, I owe the life of my brother?"
"Good heavens!" ejaculated Innes, springing forward, "can it be
possible?--Catherine Roberts, the best, truest, dearest of all my
friends!"
"Innes Cameron!" exclaimed Catherine; and in one moment of intense,
life-invigorating joy, whole years of suffering were forgotten.
But why lengthen a story rapidly hastening to its conclusion, in the
vain attempt to describe what, from its very nature, must always elude
description? Never was there a happier evening passed on the shores of
Hudson's Bay.
It has long since become a truism, that, when fortune ceases to
persecute a man, his story ceases to interest. It was certainly so with
Innes Cameron and his story. Few men could be happier than he for the
two months he remained at Hawk River Settlement. When, however, the ice
broke up, and vessel after vessel began to arrive from Europe, he had
become happier still; and when, about the middle of summer, he sailed
for Stromness, in the good ship Falcon, accompanied by Miss Roberts and
his old comrade, Sandy, there was yet a further accession to his
happiness. An old file of Inverness newspapers, from which I manage to
extract a good deal of amusement in the long winter evenings--for no one
writes more pleasingly than Carruthers--shows me that his enjoyments
were not wholly full, until after his arrival in Scotland, when he was
married, says the paper, "at Belville Cottage, by the Rev. Dr Rose, to
the beautiful and highly accomplished Miss Catherine Roberts." I find,
in a more recent number of the same newspaper, a very neat description
of a masonic procession in one of our northern towns. "There is, to a
native of Scotland," says the editor, "something very pleasing in the
contemplation of a goodly assemblage of Scotchmen, powerful in muscle
and sinew--suited either to repulse or invade--to preserve the fame of
their country, or to extend it; and this feeling was of general
experience among the people of Sutorcreek on Friday last. After the
brethren had paraded the streets, they returned to their lodge, where
dinner was prepared for them, and where, after choosing Mr Alexander
Munro, late of Hudson's Bay, as their master for the ensuing year, they
spent the evening in meet cordiality." And here my story ends. The lives
of a country gentleman, of superior talent and worth, and a shrewd,
honest mechanic--varied only by those migrations which the Vicar of
Wakefield describes--migrations from the blue room to the brown, or from
the workshop to the street--however redolent of happiness and comfort to
themselves, furnish the writer with but little scope for either
narrative or description.
THE PROFESSOR'S TALES.
THE WEDDING.
On a certain vacation-day of August, of which I have still a vivid
recollection, I fished in Darr Water; and with so much success, that
night had gathered over me ere I was aware. I was at this moment fully
fifteen miles from home, in a locality unmarked by one single feature of
civilisation; for here neither plough, nor sickle, nor spade had ever
made an impression. For anything I knew to the contrary, there was not a
human habitation nearer than ten miles. I was loaded down to the very
earth with fish, and not a little fatigued by the forenoon's travel and
sport. It behoved me, however, at all events and risks, to set my face
homewards; and, although I might have followed the Darr till it united
with the Clyde, and thus made my way with a certainty home at last, yet
I preferred retracing my steps, and saving at least a dozen of miles of
mountain travel. But the mist was close and crawly, lying before me in
damp, danky obscurity; and the wind, which during the day had amounted
to a breeze, was now wrapped up, and put to rest in a wet blanket. All
was still, except the voice of the plover, mire-snipe, and peese-weep.
The moss or muir, or something partaking of the nature of both, and
rightly neither, was lone, uniform, and unmarked; it was like sailing
without star or compass over the Pacific. Meanwhile, day, which seemed
to be desirous of accelerating its departure, disappeared, and I was
left alone in my wilderness. I could not even lie down to rest, for the
spongy earth gave up its moisture in jets and squirts. I hurried on,
however, following my breath, which smoked like a furnace amidst the
mountain mist, and trailing my fish, in a large _bag_, after me. I had
killed somewhere about sixteen dozen. At last I gained a small stream,
and, as I have an instinctive liking for all manner of streams, I was
led by the ear along its course, till I found myself in a close ravine
or dell, surrounded on each hand by steep grassy ascents, scaurs and
rocks. I kept by the voice of the water, which now fell more
contractedly over gullet and precipice, till at last, to my infinite
delight, I heard, or thought I heard, the bark of a dog; and in a few
seconds one of these faithful animals occupied the steep above me,
giving audible intimation of my unlooked-for presence. The shepherd's
voice followed hard behind; and I never was happier in my life than on
the recognition of a fellow-creature. My tale was soon told, and as
readily understood and believed. To travel home on such a night was out
of the question; so I was conducted to the shepherd's sheiling--to that
covert in the wilderness in which there is more downright shelter,
comfort, and happiness than in town palaces; for comfort and happiness
are inmates of the bosom rather than of the home.
My entrance was welcomed by the shepherd's wife and an only daughter.
There was likewise a young lad, of about twelve years, who was the
younger of two sons, the elder being dead. Servants there were none; for
where all serve themselves, there is no need of what the Americans call
"helps." Nothing could exceed the kind hospitalities of this family; the
very dogs, with a couple of young puppies, gathered round me. They
licked the wet from my legs and clothes, and seemed sufficiently
satisfied even with a _look_ of approbation. My supper was the
uncelebrated, but unequalled, Dumfries-shire feast--champit
potatoes. I slept soundly till morning; and, after a breakfast of
porridge--"Scotland's halesome food"--and learning that the young and
beautiful woman, the shepherd's daughter, was to be married on Saturday
eight-days, I bent my way homewards, to hear and bear merited reproof
for the anxiety which my absence (which was, however, luckily attributed
to a stolen visit to an aunt) had occasioned.
Saturday eight-days dawned, and by this time I had resumed my fishing
preceptor and companion, _Willie Herdman_, to accompany me to the
mountains, thinking to decoy him, as it were, to the neighbourhood of
the wedding, and there to treat him with a view of the happy party and
blooming bride. I kept my own secret, and we were within a mile of the
sheiling ere I disclosed it. It was then about two o'clock, and, so far
as we could guess, precisely the marriage dinner-hour. Willie, who was
an old soldier, had no objection to join in the merriment, nor to drink
a glass to the future happiness of the young folks. So on we trudged,
our lines rolled up, and our fishing-wallet (for baskets we had none)
properly adjusted. We soon caught the descending stream; and, at a
pretty sharp turning, came all at once within view of the hospitable
cottage; but, to our surprise, there was neither noise nor
cavalcade--all was desolation and silence around. The very dogs rather
seemed to challenge than to invite our advance, and neither smoke nor
bustle indicated any preparation. At first I thought that I had mistaken
my way, and was upon the point of entering, to ascertain the fact, when
the shepherd presented himself in the doorway. I then could hear the
voice of mourning--"Rachel weeping" within, and the boy lying across a
half-demolished hay-rick, crying and sobbing as if his heart would
burst. The face of the shepherd was blank and awful--it was as if by a
sudden concussion of the brain he had lost all recollection of the past.
He stood leaning against both lintels of the door, and neither advanced
nor retreated. At last, hearing the voice of lamentation wax louder and
louder behind him, he turned suddenly round, and disappeared. Impressed
with the belief that something terrible had happened, but not knowing
the nature or extent of it, I advanced to the boy, with whom, as a
fellow-fisher in the mountain streams, I had made up an acquaintance at
the former meeting, and, taking him firmly by the shoulder, endeavoured
to turn his face towards me; but he kept it concealed in the hay, and
refused either commiseration or comfort. The very dogs seemed aware of
the calamity, and one of them howled mournfully from the corner of a
peat-stack adjoining. At last a woman, with whom I was totally
unacquainted, emerged from the doorway, and informed us of the cause of
all this lamentation. She had been sent for as a relation from a
distance, and had only arrived a few hours before. The particulars were
as follows:--Two days previous to the day set apart for the marriage,
the young, light-hearted, and blooming bride had been employed in
building a rick or stack of bog-hay, for winter fodder to the cow. She
was in the act of completing the erection, and standing on the
contracted apex, when her foot slipped, and she fell head foremost, and
at once dislocated her neck. Had there been immediate medical assistance
(as had been injudiciously communicated to the family), the fatal
accident might have been remedied; but, alas! there was not, and, long
ere surgical aid could be procured, the ill-fated bride had ceased to
breathe!
The first thought of the household had been directed towards the
bridegroom, who had, ever since the fatal tidings, lost his reason, and
become apparently fatuous, ever and anon insisting that the wedding
should take place "for a' that!"
We did not deem it proper, nor would it have been so, to inflict our
presence upon such a household. And for months after, I never slept
without dreaming of this incident, and of the distressed family--of
whose future fortunes I know nothing further.
MIKE MAXWELL AND THE GRETNA GREEN LOVERS.
There are many individuals who think they are safe if they act within
the strict letter of the law of the land, although they transgress the
precepts of Holy Writ, as well as the dictates of their conscience.
There is a wide field of right and wrong, good and evil, within the
lines of demarcation drawn by legislators or moralists; and as the acts
therein performed are equally removed from punishment and reward, the
merit of the actors is the greater, the less they are influenced by the
hope of praise or the fear of censure. It would, indeed, be as absurd
for an individual to say that he cannot be blamed if he acts within the
law, as for another to allege that he can do no good unless his actions
are blazoned in the columns of a newspaper, after the fashion of the
five-pound donations of dukes and duchesses; but, clear as the
proposition is, there are many who pretend to say that it is far from
being self-evident. To such mole-eyed moralists, the best lesson is one
derived from a practical example drawn from life; and we shall, as
public moral teachers, in our humble sphere, proceed to lay one, not, we
hope, altogether divested of amusement, before our readers.
The remembrance of the strange individual, Michael Maxwell, who lived,
in the end of the last century, in the village of Gretna, so famed for
irregular marriages, is not, it is supposed, yet extinct. He was the son
of a small farmer, called David Maxwell, who claimed relationship to the
Maxwells of Tinwald; and having died when Michael was still young, left
him to the care of his mother, without, however, any means of support.
His friends gave him a little education, and endeavoured to prevail
upon him to learn some trade; but early habits of roving, and living on
the chance occurrences of the day--perhaps strengthened by the continued
assistance of his mother's friends, who got her a small house, with an
acre or two of ground, for a trifling rent, and thus furnished some
occasion for his services (when these could be procured) at
home--rendered all kinds of business disagreeable to him.
He became remarkable, as he grew up, for great strength, strong love of
enterprise, and amazing bodily agility, so that no man in that part of
Dumfries-shire could cope with him at the games of the neighbourhood, or
in personal contest. Of these gifts he was prouder than those who are
possessed of undisputed superiority, in any respect, generally are; but
he claimed also the possession of other qualities, which are not often
found associated with those we have mentioned: an adroit cunning, or
Scottish sagacity, and certain powers of humour, on which he plumed
himself more than on his bodily strength and agility. In his trials of
strength with the English, whom he loved to vanquish, he sometimes
contrived to bring all those qualities into operation at once--a feat in
which he delighted. Giving his English vaunting opponent in a wrestling
match every advantage, he allowed him gradually to get more confident
and proud of his anticipated victory, wiled him on to greater exertions
and more impertinent boastings, and, when he saw him rising on his
tiptoe for the last triumphant throw, laid him on his back like a child,
amidst the mirth and applause of the assembled crowds.
It was a problem which few of the people about Gretna even attempted to
solve, how Mike Maxwell, as he was called, lived; and how he contrived
to keep a swift black mare always well fed and redd, besides supporting
his old mother, apparently from the proceeds of a small mailing of
ground, formed an addition to the difficulty, and set the wits of the
wiseacres at defiance. Some supposed that he had a secret intercourse
with the smugglers of the Solway, and that he kept the horse for the
purpose of aiding him in directing the contraband dealers on what part
of the coast to land their commodities; others again surmised that he
was secretly employed by the village secular-marriage priest, to act as
_avant courier_ to runaway couples, whom, by leading through circuitous
roads, he might enable to escape from their pursuers.
Of all those who speculated on the subject, none felt a greater interest
in the mystery than a young Englishwoman of the name of Alice Parker,
the daughter of a widow who lived on the English side of the Borders,
and with whom Maxwell had been long on habits of great intimacy,
notwithstanding of an indomitable prejudice he entertained against her
country and countrymen. The great leveller of all distinctions of rank
shows little respect for national prejudices; the two were devoted to
each other, and would have been united, if he would have complied with
her repeated request, to satisfy her as to the means whereby he
maintained himself, and would maintain her. The condition of the young
woman was reasonable; and one night, as she was accompanying him a short
way on his road homewards, she pressed the point with so much force,
that Maxwell could scarcely resist an explanation.
"It is not I alone," said she, "who feel a curiosity on this subject,
which perhaps you may think only concerns yourself. The inhabitants of
the surrounding country all know you, in consequence of the fame of your
strength; and my countrymen of Cumberland, by token of their broken
limbs and dislocated joints, know you in particular to their cost. It is
to this fame, which you yourself have produced, that you owe the
curiosity that is entertained about your means of living; for your
maimed enemies would fain make out that you betake yourself to the
highway--a very convenient and satisfactory way of accounting for the
mystery, as it includes an explanation of your object in keeping Black
Bess there; who, as I mention her name, looks about to chide me for the
imputation."
"Weel may she," answered Maxwell, "for it is a foul charge; and if I
knew wha originated it, I wad mak the place o' him it sprang frae (his
head) sae dizzy that he wad be at some loss again to find it. But is it
no yersel, Alice, wha maks the charge, and faithers it on the hail o'
Cumberland, to force me to gie ye an explanation, which, after a', ye
dinna need? The mailin I rent frae Laird Dempster keeps Bess, the
kailyard my mither, and" (smiling, and taking his companion round the
neck) "a man in love, Alice, needs little meat."
"No one has any chance with you, Mike," replied she. "Your arm lays your
foes on the ground, and your Scottish tongue, made supple by cunning,
baffles all attempts to reach your judgment; yet you have not succeeded
in this instance, for you tell me in plain terms that, if I marry you, I
must live on love. That sounds not well in the land of roast beef, of
which I am as fond as my neighbours; so you shall be no husband of
mine."
"You forget, Alice," said Maxwell, still smiling, "the three weeks ye
lay in bed sick wi' love, when I left ye for Bridget o' the Glen. How
muckle o' yer national dish did ye eat durin that time?"
"Again at your Scottish humour!" replied Alice; "but I am in earnest.
You treat me ill, Mike. What is your love to me, if I am denied your
confidence? Yet may I not be asking poison? I could not hear that you
were a lawless man, and live a week after I was intrusted with the
secret. Unhappy fate, to love, and be forced, by the mysterious conduct
of my lover, to suspect his honesty!"
"You are on dangerous ground, Alice," said Maxwell. "We o' the north
side o' the Borders say that love has nae suspicions, and that whar
there are suspicions, there is nae love. Do ye mean that I should
suspect yer love, as ye do my honesty."
"Would to heaven," cried Alice, "there were as little ground in the one
case as in the other! Here comes a carriage at full speed; take Bess to
the side of the road."
"Na," cried Mike, with a sudden start, and looking in the direction of
the carriage; "Bess and I will tak the middle o' the road. She'll no
stay behind a carriage; she has owre muckle gentle bluid in her veins."
The carriage came up with great speed; the blinds were up, and the route
was to Gretna.
"Guid-nicht, Alice," cried Mike, as he flung himself suddenly on the
back of Bess, and bounded off immediately behind the flying carriage.
The young woman stood and looked after her friend with feelings of
surprise, and it was some moments before she became sufficiently
self-possessed to try to account for so abrupt a departure. Was he angry
with her? His conversation showed the reverse, and his good-nature was a
prominent feature of his character. A painful question followed these
thoughts: Was he away after the carriage, to realise the suspicion she
had been communicating to him by the privilege of love? It seemed too
likely; for he had never left her before without many endearing
expressions of attachment; and she had observed the sudden change of
manner and look which seemed to be produced by the approaching vehicle.
All the vague reports she had heard concerning him came in aid of these
suspicious appearances; and as she wandered slowly home to Netherwood,
where her mother resided, she sunk into a gloomy train of thought, which
shadowed forth, on the dim horizon of futurity, disgrace and shame to
her lover, and misfortune and death to herself.
The carriage which Maxwell followed under such unfavourable appearances
was, as already said, on the route for Gretna. The speed of the horses,
and the loud cracking of the whip which propelled them, indicated haste;
and the close blinds told of adventure, secresy, and love. Maxwell
followed hard; and just as the vehicle turned to take the direction of
the village, Black Bess and her rider flew past with the speed of light,
and by another path reached the back-door of a small house, where she
stopped. Maxwell descended, and tapped lightly at the door.
"David Hoggins," said he, "are you in?"
"Yes," answered the individual addressed; "what's wanted?" And the door
was opened by an old man in a Kilmarnock nightcap.
"There's a couple on the road, David," said Maxwell, "dootless in search
o' you. The night is gettin dark, and the carriage-lights winna tell
them north frae south. I'll wait at the back-door till you try and get
me engaged to lead the fugitives out o' danger and the reach o' their
pursuers."
"The auld condition, I fancy," said David--"half and half."
"Lively," answered Mike--"quick; the row o' the wheels mak the village
ring. There, they're landed. Awa wi' your noose, and dinna let me slip
through the loop."
"I'm as sure's a hangman," said David, nodding significantly, and
shutting the door, to proceed to the front of the house, where his
presence was in great request.