Young Redrigs walks where the sunbeams fa';
He sees his shadow slant up the wa'--
Wi' shouthers sae braid, and wi' waist sae sma',
Guid faith he's a proper man!
He cocks his cap, and he streeks out his briest;
And he steps a step like a lord at least;
And he cries like the deevil to saddle his beast,
And aff to court he's gaun.
The Laird o' Largy is far frae hame,
But his dochter sits at the quiltin' frame,
Kamin' her hair wi' a siller kame,
In mony a gowden ban':
Bauld Redrigs loups frae his blawin' horse,
He prees her mou' wi' a freesome force--
"Come take me, Nelly, for better for worse,
To be your ain guidman."
"I'll no be harried like bumbee's byke--
I'll no be handled unleddy like--
I winna hae ye, ye worryin' tyke,
The road ye came gae 'lang!"
He loupit on wi' an awsome snort,
He bang'd the fire frae the flinty court;
He's aff and awa' in a snorin' sturt,
As hard as he can whang.
It's doon she sat when she saw him gae,
And a' that she could do or say,
Was--"O! and alack! and a well-a-day!
I've lost the best guidman!"
But if she was wae, it's he was wud;
He garr'd them a' frae his road to scud;
But Glowerin' Sam gied thud for thud,
And then to the big house ran.
The Glowerer ran for the kitchen-door;
Bauld Redrigs hard at his heels, be sure,
He's wallop'd him roun' and roun' the floor,
As wha but Redrigs can?
Then Sam he loups to the dresser-shelf--
"I daur ye wallop my leddy's delf;
I daur ye break but a single skelf
Frae her cheeny bowl, my man!"
But Redrigs' bluid wi' his hand was up;
He'd lay them neither for crock nor cup,
He play'd awa' wi' his cuttin' whup,
And doon the dishes dang;
He clatter'd them doon, sir, raw by raw;
The big anes foremost, and syne the sma';
He came to the cheeny cups last o' a'--
They glanced wi' goud sae thrang!
Then bonny Nelly came skirlin' butt;
Her twa white arms roun' his neck she put--
"O Redrigs, dear, hae ye tint your wut?
Are ye quite and clean gane wrang?
O spare my teapot! O spare my jug!
O spare, O spare my posset-mug!
And I'll let ye kiss, and I'll let ye hug,
Dear Redrigs, a' day lang."
"Forgie, forgie me, my beauty bright
Ye are my Nelly, my heart's delight;
I'll kiss and I'll hug ye day and night,
If alang wi' me you'll gang."
"Fetch out my pillion, fetch out my cloak,
You'll heal my heart if my bowl you broke."
These words, whilk she to her bridegroom spoke,
Are the endin' o' my sang.
I got this copy of his song since, else I could not have recollected
it from that hearing; for I was too impatient to put the plan into
execution for which I had come out, to attend even to this
immortalising of an ancestor.
I knew Ingram at once by his blue jacket, and the corkscrews which
bobbed over each temple as he nodded and swayed his head to the
flourishes of "the gaberlunzie man" (the measure which Halliday had
chosen for his words); so when the song was finished, and I had drank
a health to Robin's muse, I stepped across to where he sat, and said I
wished to speak with him alone. He put down his jug of punch, and
followed me into my own room. I closed the door and told him, that as
I understood him to be in the Channel trade, I applied to know if he
could put me on any expeditious conveyance to the coast of France.
"Why, sir," said he, "I could give you a cast myself in our own tight
thing, the Saucy Sally, as far as Douglas or the Calf; and for the
rest of the trip, why there's our consort, the Little Sweep, that will
be thereabouts this week, would run you up, if it would lie in your
way, as far as Guernsey, or, if need be, to Belle Isle." "Belle Isle!"
repeated I, with a start; for the words of O'More to the priest came
suddenly upon my recollection, "Has any boat left this coast or that
of Man for Belle Isle within the last fortnight?" "Not a keel, sir;
there's ne'er a boat just now in the Channel that could do it but
herself--they call her the Deil-sweep, sir, among the revenue sharks;
for that's all that they could ever make of her. She is the only boat,
sir, as I have said, and if so be you are a gentleman in distress, you
will not be the only one that will have cause to trust to her--but,
d--n it (he muttered), those women--well, what of that?--Mayn't I
lend a hand to save a fine fellow for all that?--but harkye, brother,
this is all in confidence."
"Your confidence shall not be abused," whispered I, hardly able to
breathe for eager hope--the female passengers--the desire for
exclusion--the only boat that fortnight, all confirmed me. "Mr O'More
and I are friends; fear neither for him nor yourself; let me only get
first on board, and I can rough it all night on deck, as many a time
I've done before: his daughter and her woman can have your cabin to
themselves." It was a bold guess, but all right; he gaped at me for a
minute in dumb astonishment; then closing one hand upon the earnest
which I here slipped into it, drew the other across his eyes, as if to
satisfy himself that he was not dreaming, and in a respectful tone
informed me that they intended sailing on the next night from Cairn
Castle shore. "We take the squire up off Island Magee, sir; he has
been lying to on the look-out for us there for the last ten days; so
that if you want to bear a hand in getting the young lady aboard, it
will be all arranged to your liking."
During this conversation, my whole being underwent a wonderful change;
from the collapsing sickness of bereavement, I felt my heart and limbs
expand themselves under the delightful enlargement of this new spring
of hope: I shook Ingram by the hand, led him back to the kitchen, and
returned turned to the old man with a step so elated, and with such a
kindling of animation over my whole appearance, that he exclaimed, in
high glee, "Heard ye ever sic verses at Oxford, Willie? Odd! man, Rab
Halliday is as good as a dozen o' Janet's possets for ye; I'll hae him
here again to sing to ye the morn's e'en."
"He is a very pleasant fellow--a very pleasant fellow indeed, sir; but
I fear I shall not be able to enjoy his company to-morrow night, as I
purpose taking my passage for the Isle of Man in Ingram's
boat."--"Nonsense, Willy, nonsense; ye wadna make yoursell 'hail,
billy, weel met,' wi' gallows-birds and vagabonds--though, as for Paul
himsell"----"My dear sir, you know I have my passport, and need not
care for the reputation of my hired servants; besides, sir, you know
how fond I am of excitement of all sorts, and the rogue really sings
so well"----
"That he does, Willy. Weel, weel--he that will to Cupar maun to
Cupar!" and so saying, he lifted up his candle and marched off the
field without another blow.
Ingram and I started next evening about four o'clock, attended by
little Davie, who was to bring back the horse I rode next day; Ingram,
whose occupation lay as much on land as sea, was quite at home on his
rough sheltie, which carried also a couple of little panniers at
either side of the pommel, well-primed with samples of his contraband
commodities. We arrived a little after nightfall in Larne, where we
left Davie with the horses, while Ingram, having disposed of his pony,
joined me on foot, and we set off by the now bright light of the moon
along the hills for Cairn Castle.
During the first three or four miles of our walk, he entertained me
with abundance of songs echoed loud and long across the open mountain;
but when we descended from it towards the sea, we both kept silence
and a sharp look-out over the unequal and bleak country between. We
now got among low clumpy hills and furzy gullies, and had to pick our
steps through loose scattered lumps of rock, which were lying all
round us white in the clear moonshine, like flocks of sheep upon the
hill-side. The wind was off the shore, and we did not hear the noise
of the water till, at the end of one ravine, we turned the angular jut
of a low promontory, and beheld the image of the moon swinging in its
still swell at our feet.
Ingram whistled, and was answered from the shore a little farther on;
he stepped out a few paces in advance, and led forward; presently I
saw a light figure glide out of the shadow in front and approach us.
"Vell, mine Apostéle Paul, vat news of the Ephesiens?"
"All right, Munsher Martin, and here is another passenger."
He whispered something, and the little Frenchman touched his hat with
an air, and expressed, in a compound of Norman-French, Manx, and
English, the great pleasure he had in doing a service to the
illustrious cavalier, the friend of liberty. Hearing a noise in front,
I looked up and discerned the light spar of a mast peeping over an
intervening barrier of rock; we wound round it, and on the other side
found a cutter-rigged boat of about eighteen tons hauled close to the
natural quay, with her mainsail set and flapping heavily in the night
wind. Here we met another seaman. In ten minutes we were under way;
the smooth groundswell running free and silent from our quarter, and
the boat laying herself out with an easy speed, as she caught the
breeze freshening over the lower coast. The Saucy Sally was a
half-decked cutter (built for a pleasure-boat in Guernsey), and a
tight thing, as Ingram had said. I did not go into the cabin, which
occupied all the forecastle, but wrapping myself in my cloak, lay down
along the stern-sheets, and feigned to be asleep, for I was so excited
by the prospect of meeting Madeline, that I could no longer join in
the conversation of the crew. In about half an hour I heard them say
that we were in sight of Island Magee, and rising, beheld it dark over
our weather-bows. I went forward and continued on the forecastle in
feverish impatience as we neared it. The breeze stiffened as we
opened Larne Lough, and the Saucy Sally tossed two or three
sprinklings of cold spray over my shoulders, but I shook the water
from my cloak and resumed my look-out. At last we were within a
quarter of a mile of the coast, and a light appeared right opposite;
we showed another and lay to. With a fluttering heart I awaited the
approach of a boat. Twice I fancied I saw it distinguish itself from
the darkness of the coast, and twice I felt the blank recoil of
disappointment. At last it did appear, dipping distinct from among the
rocks, and full of people. They neared us; my heart leapt at every jog
of their oars in the loose thewels; for I could now plainly discern
two female figures, two boatmen, and a muffled man in the stern. All
was now certain; they shot alongside, laid hold of the gunnel, and I
heard O'More's voice call on Ingram to receive the lady. I could
hardly conceal my agitation as she was lifted on deck, but had no
power to advance; Nancy followed, and O'More himself leaped third on
deck--the boat shoved off, the helmsman let the cutter's head away,
the mainsail filled, and we stood out to sea.
Here I was then, and would be for four-and-twenty hours at the least,
by the side of her whom a little time before I would have given years
of my life to have been near but for a minute; yet, with an
unaccountable irresolution, I still delayed, nay, shrunk from, the
long-sought interview. It was not till her father had gone into the
little cabin to arrange it for her reception, and had closed the door
between us, that I ventured from my hiding-place behind the foresail,
and approached her where she stood gazing mournfully over the boat's
side at the fast passing shores of her country. I whispered her name;
she knew my voice at the first syllable, and turned in amazed delight;
but the flush of pleasure which lit up her beautiful features as I
clasped her hand, had hardly dawned ere it was chased by the rising
paleness of alarm. I comforted her by assurances of eternal love, and
vowed to follow her to the ends of the earth in despite of every human
power. We stood alone; for two sailors were with O'More and the girl
in the cabin, and the third, having lashed the tiller to, was fixing
something forward. We stood alone I cannot guess how long--time is
short, but the joy of those moments has been everlasting. We exchanged
vows of mutual affection and constancy, and I had sealed our blessed
compact with a kiss, witnessed only by the moon and stars, when the
cabin-door opened, and her father stood before me. I held out my hand,
and accosted him with the free confidence of a joyful heart. The
severe light of the moon sharpened his strong features into startling
expression, as he regarded me for a second with mingled astonishment
and vexation. He did not seem to notice my offered hand; but, saying
something in a low cold tone about the unexpected pleasure, turned to
the steersman, and demanded fiercely why he had not abided by his
agreement? The sailor, quailing before the authoritative tone and
aspect of his really noble-looking questioner, began an exculpatory
account of my having been brought thither by Ingram, to whom he
referred.
Bold Paul was beginning with "Lookee, Squire, I'm master of this same
craft," when I interrupted him by requesting that he would take his
messmates to the bows, and leave the helm with me, as I wished to
explain the matter myself in private. He consigned his soul, in set
terms, to the devil, if any other man than myself should be allowed to
make a priest's palaver-box of the Saucy Sally, and sulkily retired,
rolling his quid with indefatigable energy, and squirting jets of
spittle half-mast high.
O'More almost pushed the reluctant Madeline into the cabin, closed the
door, and addressed me.--"To what motive am I to attribute your
presence here, Mr Macdonnell?"
"To one which I am proud to avow, the desire of being near the object
of my sole affections--your lovely daughter; as well, sir, as from a
hope that I may still be able to overcome those objections which you
once expressed."
He pointed over the boat's side to the black piled precipices of
the shore, as they stood like an iron wall looming along the
weather-beam.--"Look there, sir; look at the Bloody Gobbins, and hear
me--When a setting moon shall cease to fling the mourning of their
shadows over the graves of _my_ butchered ancestors, and when a
rising sun shall cease to bare before abhorring Christendom"----
"Luff, sir, luff," cried Ingram, from the forecastle.
"Come aft yourself, Paul," I replied in despair and disgust.
O'More retired to the cabin bulkhead, and leaned against the door,
without completing his broken vow. Ingram took the helm, and I sat
down in silence. Paul saw our unpleasant situation, and ceasing to
remember his own cause for ill-humour, strove to make us forget ours.
He talked with a good deal of tact, but with little success, for the
next half hour. O'More remained stern and black as the Gobbins
themselves, now rapidly sinking astern, while the coast of Island
Magee receded into the broad Lough of Belfast upon our quarter. The
moon was still shining with unabated lustre, and we could plainly
discern the bold outline of the hills beyond; while the coast of Down
and the two Copelands lay glistening in grey obscure over our
starboard bow. No sail was within sight; we had a stiff breeze with a
swinging swell from the open bay; and as the cutter lay down and
showed the glimmer of the water's edge above her gunnel, the glee of
the glorying sailor burst out in song:--
Haul away, haul away, down helm, I say;
Slacken sheets, let the good boat go.--
Give her room, give her room for a spanking boom;
For the wind comes on to blow--
(Haul away!)
For the wind comes on to blow,
And the weather-beam is gathering gloom,
And the scud flies high and low.
Lay her out, lay her out, till her timbers stout,
Like a wrestler's ribs, reply
To the glee, to the glee of the bending tree,
And the crowded canvass high--
(Lay her out!)
And the crowded canvass high;
Contending, to the water's shout,
With the champion of the sky.
Carry on, carry on; reef none, boy, none;
Hang her out on a stretching sail:
Gunnel in, gunnel in! for the race we'll win,
While the land-lubbers so pale--
(Carry on!)
While the land-lubbers so pale
Are fumbling at their points, my son,
For fear of the coming gale!
All but O'More joined in the chorus of the last stanza, and the bold
burst of harmony was swept across the water like a defiance to the
eastern gale. Our challenge was accepted. "Howsomever," said Ingram,
after a pause, and running his glistening eye along the horizon, "as
we are not running a race, there will be no harm in taking in a
handful or two of our cloth this morning; for the wind is chopping
round to the north, and I wouldn't wonder to hear Sculmarten's
breakers under our lee before sunrise."
"And a black spell we will have till then, for when the moon goes down
you may stop your fingers in your eyes for starlight," observed the
other sailor, as he began to slacken down the peak halliards; while
they brought the boat up and took in one reef in the mainsail; but the
word was still "helm a-larboard," and the boat's head had followed the
wind round a whole quarter of the compass within the next ten minutes.
We went off before the breeze, but it continued veering round for the
next hour; so that when we got fairly into the Channel, the
predictions of the seamen were completely fulfilled; for the moon had
set, the wind was from the east, and a hurrying drift had covered all
the sky.
We stood for the north of Man; but the cross sea, produced by the
shifting of the wind, which was fast rising to a gale, buffeted us
with such contrary shocks, that after beating through it almost till
the break of day, we gave up the hope of making Nesshead, and,
altering our course, took in another reef, and ran for the Calf.
But the gale continued to increase; we pitched and plunged to no
purpose; the boat was going bows in at every dip, and the straining of
her timbers as she stooped out to every stretch, told plainly that we
must either have started planks or an altered course again. The
sailors, after some consultation, agreed on putting about; and, for
reasons best known to themselves, pitched upon Strangford Lough as
their harbour of refuge. Accordingly, we altered our course once more,
and went off before the wind. Day broke as we were still toiling ten
miles from the coast of Down. The grey dawn showed a black pile of
clouds overhead, gathering bulk from rugged masses which were driving
close and rapid from the east. By degrees the coast became distinct
from the lowering sky; and at last the sun rose lurid and large above
the weltering waters. It was ebb tide, and I represented that
Strangford bar at such a time was peculiarly dangerous in an eastern
gale; nevertheless the old sailor who was now at the helm insisted on
standing for it. When we were yet a mile distant, I could distinguish
the white horses running high through the black trembling strait, and
hear the tumult of the breakers over the dashing of our own bows.
Escape was impossible; we could never beat to sea in the teeth of such
a gale; over the bar we must go, or founder. We took in the last reef,
hauled down our jib, and, with ominous faces, saw ourselves in ten
minutes more among the cross seas and breakers.
The waters of a wide estuary running six miles an hour, and meeting
the long roll of the Channel, might well have been expected to produce
a dangerous swell; but a spring-tide, combining with a gale of wind,
had raised them at flood to an extraordinary height, and the violence
of their discharge exceeded our anticipations accordingly. We had
hardly encountered the first two or three breakers, when Ingram was
staggered from the forecastle by the buffet of a counter sea, which
struck us forward just as the regular swell caught us astern; the boat
heeled almost on her beam ends, and he fell over the cabin door into
the hold; the man at the helm was preparing for the tack as he saw his
messmate's danger, and started forward to save him: he was too late;
the poor fellow pitched upon his head and shoulders among the ballast;
at the same instant the mainsail caught the wind, the boom swung
across, and striking the helmsman on the back of the neck, swept him
half overboard, where he lay doubled across the gunnel, with his arms
and head dragging through the water, till I hauled him in. He was
stunned and nearly scalped by the blow. Ingram lay moaning and
motionless; the boat was at the mercy of the elements, while I
stretched the poor fellows side by side at our feet. I had now to take
the helm, for the little Frenchman was totally ignorant of the coast;
he continued to hand the main-sheet; and O'More, who all night long
had been sitting in silence against the cabin bulkhead, leaped
manfully upon the forecastle and stood by the tackle there. We had
now to put the boat upon the other tack, for the tide made it
impossible to run before the wind. O'More belayed his sheet, and,
as the cutter lay down again, folded his arms and leaned back on the
weather-bulwark, balancing himself with his feet against the skylight.
The jabble around us was like the seething of a caldron; for the waves
boiled up all at once, and ran in all directions. I was distracted by
their universal assault, and did not observe the heaviest and most
formidable of all, till it was almost down upon our broadside. I put
the helm hard down, and shouted with all my might to O'More--"Stand by
for a sea, sir--lay hold, lay hold." It was too late. I could just
prevent our being swamped by withdrawing our quarter from the shock,
when it struck us on the weather-bows, where he stood: it did not
break. Our hull was too small an obstacle: it swept over the
forecastle as the stream leaps a pebble, stove in the bulwark, lifted
him right up, and launched him on his back, with his feet against the
foresail. The foresail stood the shock a moment, and he grappled to
it, while we were swept on in the rush, like a sparrow in the clutches
of a hawk; but the weight of water bore all before it--the sheets were
torn from the deck, the sail flapped up above the water, and I saw him
tossed from its edge over the lee-bow. The mainsail hid him for a
moment; he reappeared, sweeping astern at the rate of fifteen knots an
hour. He was striking out, and crying for a rope; there was no rope
at hand, and all the loose spars had been stowed away. He could not be
saved. I have said that the sun had just risen: between us and the
east his rays shone through the tops of the higher waves with a pale
and livid light; as O'More drifted into these, his whole agonised
figure rose for a moment dusk in the transparent water, then
disappeared in the hollow beyond; but at our next plunge I saw him
heaved up again, struggling dim amid the green gloom of an
overwhelming sea. An agonising cry behind me made me turn my head. "O
save him, save him! turn the boat, and save him! O William, as you
love me, save my father!" It was Madeline, frantic for grief,
stumbling over, and unconsciously treading on the wounded men, as she
rushed from the cabin, and cast herself upon her knees before me. I
raised my eyes to heaven, praying for support; and though the clouds
rolled, and the gale swept between, strength was surely sent me from
above; for what save heavenly help could have subdued that fierce
despair, which, at the first sight of the complicated agonies around,
had prompted me to abandon hope, blaspheme, and die? I raised her
gently but firmly in my arms; drew her, still struggling and screaming
wild entreaties, to my breast, and not daring to trust myself with a
single look at her imploring eyes, fixed my own upon the course we had
to run, and never swerved from my severe determination, till the
convulsive sobs had ceased to shake her breast upon mine, and I had
felt the warm gush of her relieving tears instead; then my stern
purpose melted, and, bending over the desolate girl, I murmured, "Weep
no more, my Madeline, for, by the blessing of God, I will be a father
and a brother to you yet!" Blessed be he who heard my holy vow!--when
I looked up again we were in the smooth water.
Drenched, numbed, and dripping all with the cold spray, one borne
senseless and bloody in his messmate's arms, we climbed the quay of
Strangford. The threatened tempest was bursting in rain and thunder;
but our miserable plight had attracted a sympathising crowd. No
question was asked of who? or whence? by a generous people, to wounded
and wearied men and helpless women; till there pressed through the
ring of bystanders a tall fellow, with a strong expression of
debasement and desperate impudence upon his face, that seemed to say,
"Infamy, you have done your worst." He demanded our names and
passports, and arrested us all in the king's name, almost in the same
breath. I struck him in the face with my fist, and kicked him into the
kennel. No one attempted to lift him; but he scrambled to his feet,
with denunciations of horrible revenge. He was hustled about by the
crowd till he lost temper, and struck one of them. He had now rather
too much work upon his hands to admit of a too close attention to us;
three or four persons stepped forward and offered us protection.
Ingram and the other wounded sailor were taken off, along with the
Frenchman, by some of their own associates; while a respectable and
benevolent looking man addressed me, "I am a Protestant, sir, and an
Orangeman; but put these ladies under my protection, and you will not
repent your confidence; for, next to the Pope, I love to defeat an
informer;" and he pointed with a smile to our arrester, who was just
measuring his length upon the pavement.
"Is his name Macdonnell?" asked I.
"The same, sir," he replied; "but come away with me before he gets out
of my Thomas's hands, and I will put your friends out of the reach of
his."
I shall never be able to repay the obligation I owe to this good man,
who received Miss O'More, with her attendant, into the bosom of his
family, till I had arranged her journey to the house of a female
relative, whence, after a decent period of mourning, our marriage
permitted me to bear her to my own.