CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST.

Now turn the Psalms of David ower,

And lilt wi' holy clangor;

Of double verse come gie us four,

And skirl up the Bangor.

Burns.

The next was the important day, when, according to the forms and ritual

of the Scottish Kirk, Reuben Butler was to be ordained minister of

Knocktarlitie, by the Presbytery of ------. And so eager were the whole

party, that all, excepting Mrs. Dutton, the destined Cowslip of Inverary,

were stirring at an early hour.

Their host, whose appetite was as quick and keen as his temper, was not

long in summoning them to a substantial breakfast, where there were at

least a dozen of different preparations of milk, plenty of cold meat,

scores boiled and roasted eggs, a huge cag of butter, half-a-firkin

herrings boiled and broiled, fresh and salt, and tea and coffee for them

that liked it, which, as their landlord assured them, with a nod and a

wink, pointing, at the same time, to a little cutter which seemed dodging

under the lee of the island, cost them little beside the fetching ashore.

"Is the contraband trade permitted here so openly?" said Butler. "I

should think it very unfavourable to the people's morals."

"The Duke, Mr. Putler, has gien nae orders concerning the putting of it

down," said the magistrate, and seemed to think that he had said all that

was necessary to justify his connivance. Butler was a man of prudence,

and aware that real good can only be obtained by remonstrance when

remonstrance is well-timed; so for the present he said nothing more on

the subject.

When breakfast was half over, in flounced Mrs. Dolly, as fine as a blue

sacque and cherry-coloured ribands could make her.

"Good morrow to you, madam," said the master of ceremonies; "I trust your

early rising will not skaith ye."

The dame apologised to Captain Knockunder, as she was pleased to term

their entertainer; "but, as we say in Cheshire," she added, "I was like

the Mayor of Altringham, who lies in bed while his breeches are mending,

for the girl did not bring up the right bundle to my room, till she had

brought up all the others by mistake one after t'other--Well, I suppose

we are all for church to-day, as I understand--Pray may I be so bold as

to ask, if it is the fashion for your North country gentlemen to go to

church in your petticoats, Captain Knockunder?"

"Captain of Knockdunder, madam, if you please, for I knock under to no

man; and in respect of my garb, I shall go to church as I am, at your

service, madam; for if I were to lie in bed like your Major

What-d'ye-callum, till my preeches were mended, I might be there all my

life, seeing I never had a pair of them on my person but twice in my

life, which I am pound to remember, it peing when the Duke brought his

Duchess here, when her Grace pehoved to be pleasured; so I e'en porrowed

the minister's trews for the twa days his Grace was pleased to stay--but

I will put myself under sic confinement again for no man on earth, or

woman either, but her Grace being always excepted, as in duty pound."

The mistress of the milking-pail stared but, making no answer to this

round declaration, immediately proceeded to show, that the alarm of the

preceding evening had in no degree injured her appetite.

When the meal was finished, the Captain proposed to them to take boat, in

order that Mrs. Jeanie might see her new place of residence, and that he

himself might inquire whether the necessary preparations had been made

there, and at the Manse, for receiving the future inmates of these

mansions.

The morning was delightful, and the huge mountain-shadows slept upon the

mirrored wave of the firth, almost as little disturbed as if it had been

an inland lake. Even Mrs. Dutton's fears no longer annoyed her. She had

been informed by Archibald, that there was to be some sort of junketting

after the sermon, and that was what she loved dearly; and as for the

water, it was so still that it would look quite like a pleasuring on the

Thames.

The whole party being embarked, therefore, in a large boat, which the

captain called his coach and six, and attended by a smaller one termed

his gig, the gallant Duncan steered straight upon the little tower of the

old-fashioned church of Knocktarlitie, and the exertions of six stout

rowers sped them rapidly on their voyage. As they neared the land, the

hills appeared to recede from them, and a little valley, formed by the

descent of a small river from the mountains, evolved itself as it were

upon their approach. The style of the country on each side was simply

pastoral, and resembled, in appearance and character, the description of

a forgotten Scottish poet, which runs nearly thus:--

The water gently down a level slid,

With little din, but couthy what it made;

On ilka side the trees grew thick and lang,

And wi' the wild birds' notes were a' in sang;

On either side, a full bow-shot and mair,

The green was even, gowany, and fair;

With easy slope on every hand the braes

To the hills' feet with scatter'd bushes raise;

With goats and sheep aboon, and kye below,

The bonny banks all in a swarm did go.*

* Ross's _Fortunate Shepherdess._ Edit. 1778, p. 23.

They landed in this Highland Arcadia, at the mouth of the small stream

which watered the delightful and peaceable valley. Inhabitants of several

descriptions came to pay their respects to the Captain of Knockdunder, a

homage which he was very peremptory in exacting, and to see the new

settlers. Some of these were men after David Deans's own heart, elders of

the kirk-session, zealous professors, from the Lennox, Lanarkshire, and

Ayrshire, to whom the preceding Duke of Argyle had given _rooms_ in this

corner of his estate, because they had suffered for joining his father,

the unfortunate Earl, during his ill-fated attempt in 1686. These were

cakes of the right leaven for David regaling himself with; and, had it

not been for this circumstance, he has been heard to say, "that the

Captain of Knockdunder would have swore him out of the country in

twenty-four hours, sae awsome it was to ony thinking soul to hear his

imprecations, upon the slightest temptation that crossed his humour."

Besides these, there were a wilder set of parishioners, mountaineers from

the upper glen and adjacent hill, who spoke Gaelic, went about armed, and

wore the Highland dress. But the strict commands of the Duke had

established such good order in this part of his territories, that the

Gael and Saxons lived upon the best possible terms of good neighbourhood.

They first visited the Manse, as the parsonage is termed in Scotland. It

was old, but in good repair, and stood snugly embosomed in a grove of

sycamore, with a well-stocked garden in front, bounded by the small

river, which was partly visible from the windows, partly concealed by the

bushes, trees, and bounding hedge. Within, the house looked less

comfortable than it might have been, for it had been neglected by the

late incumbent; but workmen had been labouring, under the directions of

the Captain of Knockdunder, and at the expense of the Duke of Argyle, to

put it into some order. The old "plenishing" had been removed, and neat,

but plain household furniture had been sent down by the Duke in a brig of

his own called the Caroline, and was now ready to be placed in order in

the apartments.

The gracious Duncan, finding matters were at a stand among the workmen,

summoned before him the delinquents, and impressed all who heard him with

a sense of his authority, by the penalties with which he threatened them

for their delay. Mulcting them in half their charge, he assured them,

would be the least of it; for, if they were to neglect his pleasure and

the Duke's, "he would be tamn'd if he paid them the t'other half either,

and they might seek law for it where they could get it." The work-people

humbled themselves before the offended dignitary, and spake him soft and

fair; and at length, upon Mr. Butler recalling to his mind that it was

the ordination-day, and that the workmen were probably thinking of going

to church, Knockdunder agreed to forgive them, out of respect to their

new minister.

"But an I catch them neglecking my duty again, Mr. Putler, the teil pe in

me if the kirk shall be an excuse; for what has the like o' them

rapparees to do at the kirk ony day put Sundays, or then either, if the

Duke and I has the necessitous uses for them?"

It may be guessed with what feelings of quiet satisfaction and delight

Butler looked forward to spending his days, honoured and useful as he

trusted to be, in this sequestered valley, and how often an intelligent

glance was exchanged betwixt him and Jeanie, whose good-humoured face

looked positively handsome, from the expression of modesty, and, at the

same time, of satisfaction, which she wore when visiting the apartments

of which she was soon to call herself mistress. She was left at liberty

to give more open indulgence to her feelings of delight and admiration,

when, leaving the Manse, the company proceeded to examine the destined

habitation of David Deans.

Jeanie found with pleasure that it was not above a musket-shot from the

Manse; for it had been a bar to her happiness to think she might be

obliged to reside at a distance from her father, and she was aware that

there were strong objections to his actually living in the same house

with Butler. But this brief distance was the very thing which she could

have wished.

The farmhouse was on the plan of an improved cottage, and contrived with

great regard to convenience; an excellent little garden, an orchard, and

a set of offices complete, according to the best ideas of the time,

combined to render it a most desirable habitation for the practical

farmer, and far superior to the hovel at Woodend, and the small house at

Saint Leonard's Crags. The situation was considerably higher than that of

the Manse, and fronted to the west. The windows commanded an enchanting

view of the little vale over which the mansion seemed to preside, the

windings of the stream, and the firth, with its associated lakes and

romantic islands. The hills of Dumbartonshire, once possessed by the

fierce clan of MacFarlanes, formed a crescent behind the valley, and far

to the right were seen the dusky and more gigantic mountains of

Argyleshire, with a seaward view of the shattered and thunder-splitten

peaks of Arran.

But to Jeanie, whose taste for the picturesque, if she had any by nature,

had never been awakened or cultivated, the sight of the faithful old May

Hettly, as she opened the door to receive them in her clean toy, Sunday's

russet-gown, and blue apron, nicely smoothed down before her, was worth

the whole varied landscape. The raptures of the faithful old creature at

seeing Jeanie were equal to her own, as she hastened to assure her, "that

baith the gudeman and the beasts had been as weel seen after as she

possibly could contrive." Separating her from the rest of the company,

May then hurried her young mistress to the offices, that she might

receive the compliments she expected for her care of the cows. Jeanie

rejoiced, in the simplicity of her heart, to see her charge once more;

and the mute favourites of our heroine, Gowans, and the others,

acknowledged her presence by lowing, turning round their broad and decent

brows when they heard her well-known "Pruh, my leddy--pruh, my woman,"

and, by various indications, known only to those who have studied the

habits of the milky mothers, showing sensible pleasure as she approached

to caress them in their turn.

"The very brute beasts are glad to see ye again," said May; "but nae

wonder, Jeanie, for ye were aye kind to beast and body. And I maun learn

to ca' ye _mistress_ now, Jeanie, since ye hae been up to Lunnon, and

seen the Duke, and the King, and a' the braw folk. But wha kens," added

the old dame slily, "what I'll hae to ca' ye forby mistress, for I am

thinking it wunna lang be Deans."

"Ca' me your ain Jeanie, May, and then ye can never gang wrang."

In the cow-house which they examined, there was one animal which Jeanie

looked at till the tears gushed from her eyes. May, who had watched her

with a sympathising expression, immediately observed, in an under-tone,

"The gudeman aye sorts that beast himself, and is kinder to it than ony

beast in the byre; and I noticed he was that way e'en when he was

angriest, and had maist cause to be angry.--Eh, sirs! a parent's heart's

a queer thing!--Mony a warsle he has had for that puir lassie--I am

thinking he petitions mair for her than for yoursell, hinny; for what can

he plead for you but just to wish you the blessing ye deserve? And when I

sleepit ayont the hallan, when we came first here, he was often earnest

a' night, and I could hear him come ower and ower again wi', 'Effie--puir

blinded misguided thing!' it was aye 'Effie! Effie!'--If that puir

wandering lamb comena into the sheepfauld in the Shepherd's ain time, it

will be an unco wonder, for I wot she has been a child of prayers. Oh, if

the puir prodigal wad return, sae blithely as the goodman wad kill the

fatted calf!--though Brockie's calf will no be fit for killing this three

weeks yet."

And then, with the discursive talent of persons of her description, she

got once more afloat in her account of domestic affairs, and left this

delicate and affecting topic.

Having looked at every thing in the offices and the dairy, and expressed

her satisfaction with the manner in which matters had been managed in her

absence, Jeanie rejoined the rest of the party, who were surveying the

interior of the house, all excepting David Deans and Butler, who had gone

down to the church to meet the kirk-session and the clergymen of the

Presbytery, and arrange matters for the duty of the day.

In the interior of the cottage all was clean, neat, and suitable to the

exterior. It had been originally built and furnished by the Duke, as a

retreat for a favourite domestic of the higher class, who did not long

enjoy it, and had been dead only a few months, so that every thing was in

excellent taste and good order. But in Jeanie's bedroom was a neat trunk,

which had greatly excited Mrs. Dutton's curiosity, for she was sure that

the direction, "For Mrs. Jean Deans, at Auchingower, parish of

Knocktarlitie," was the writing of Mrs. Semple, the Duchess's own woman.

May Hettly produced the key in a sealed parcel, which bore the same

address, and attached to the key was a label, intimating that the trunk

and its contents were "a token of remembrance to Jeanie Deans, from her

friends the Duchess of Argyle and the young ladies." The trunk, hastily

opened, as the reader will not doubt, was found to be full of wearing

apparel of the best quality, suited to Jeanie's rank in life; and to most

of the articles the names of the particular donors were attached, as if

to make Jeanie sensible not only of the general, but of the individual

interest she had excited in the noble family. To name the various

articles by their appropriate names, would be to attempt things

unattempted yet in prose or rhyme; besides that the old-fashioned terms

of manteaus, sacques, kissing-strings, and so forth, would convey but

little information even to the milliners of the present day. I shall

deposit, however, an accurate inventory of the contents of the trunk with

my kind friend, Miss Martha Buskbody, who has promised, should the public

curiosity seem interested in the subject, to supply me with a

professional glossary and commentary. Suffice it to say, that the gift

was such as became the donors, and was suited to the situation of the

receiver; that every thing was handsome and appropriate, and nothing

forgotten which belonged to the wardrobe of a young person in Jeanie's

situation in life, the destined bride of a respectable clergyman.

Article after article was displayed, commented upon, and admired, to the

wonder of May, who declared, "she didna think the queen had mair or

better claise," and somewhat to the envy of the northern Cowslip. This

unamiable, but not very unnatural, disposition of mind, broke forth in

sundry unfounded criticisms to the disparagement of the articles, as they

were severally exhibited. But it assumed a more direct character, when,

at the bottom of all, was found a dress of white silk, very plainly made,

but still of white silk, and French silk to boot, with a paper pinned to

it, bearing that it was a present from the Duke of Argyle to his

travelling companion, to be worn on the day when she should change her

name.

Mrs. Dutton could forbear no longer, but whispered into Mr. Archibald's

ear, that it was a clever thing to be a Scotchwoman: "She supposed all

_her_ sisters, and she had half-a-dozen, might have been hanged, without

any one sending her a present of a pocket handkerchief."

"Or without your making any exertion to save them, Mrs. Dolly," answered

Archibald drily.--"But I am surprised we do not hear the bell yet," said

he, looking at his watch.

"Fat ta deil, Mr. Archibald," answered the Captain of Knockdunder, "wad

ye hae them ring the bell before I am ready to gang to kirk?--I wad gar

the bedral eat the bell-rope, if he took ony sic freedom. But if ye want

to hear the bell, I will just show mysell on the knowe-head, and it will

begin jowing forthwith."

Accordingly, so soon as they sallied out, and that the gold-laced hat of

the Captain was seen rising like Hesper above the dewy verge of the

rising ground, the clash (for it was rather a clash than a clang) of the

bell was heard from the old moss-grown tower, and the clapper continued

to thump its cracked sides all the while they advanced towards the kirk,

Duncan exhorting them to take their own time, "for teil ony sport wad be

till he came."*

* Note T. Tolling to service in Scotland.

Accordingly, the bell only changed to the final and impatient chime when

they crossed the stile; and "rang in," that is, concluded its mistuned

summons, when they had entered the Duke's seat, in the little kirk, where

the whole party arranged themselves, with Duncan at their head, excepting

David Deans, who already occupied a seat among the elders.

The business of the day, with a particular detail of which it is

unnecessary to trouble the reader, was gone through according to the

established form, and the sermon pronounced upon the occasion had the

good fortune to please even the critical David Deans, though it was only

an hour and a quarter long, which David termed a short allowance of

spiritual provender.

The preacher, who was a divine that held many of David's opinions,

privately apologised for his brevity by saying, "That he observed the

Captain was gaunting grievously, and that if he had detained him longer,

there was no knowing how long he might be in paying the next term's

victual stipend."

David groaned to find that such carnal motives could have influence upon

the mind of a powerful preacher. He had, indeed, been scandalised by

another circumstance during the service.

So soon as the congregation were seated after prayers, and the clergyman

had read his text, the gracious Duncan, after rummaging the leathern

purse which hung in front of his petticoat, produced a short tobacco-pipe

made of iron, and observed, almost aloud, "I hae forgotten my

spleuchan--Lachlan, gang down to the clachan, and bring me up a

pennyworth of twist." Six arms, the nearest within reach, presented,

with an obedient start, as many tobacco-pouches to the man of office.

He made choice of one with an nod of acknowledgment, filled his pipe,

lighted it with the assistance of his pistol-flint, and smoked with

infinite composure during the whole time of the sermon. When the

discourse was finished, he knocked the ashes out of his pipe, replaced

it in his sporran, returned the tobacco-pouch or spleuchan to its owner,

and joined in the prayer with decency and attention.

[Illustration: The Captain of Knockdunder--303]

At the end of the service, when Butler had been admitted minister of the

kirk of Knocktarlitie, with all its spiritual immunities and privileges,

David, who had frowned, groaned, and murmured at Knockdunder's irreverent

demeanour, communicated his plain thoughts of the matter to Isaac

Meiklehose, one of the elders, with whom a reverential aspect and huge

grizzle wig had especially disposed him to seek fraternisation. "It didna

become a wild Indian," David said, "much less a Christian, and a

gentleman, to sit in the kirk puffing tobacco-reek, as if he were in a

change-house."

Meiklehose shook his head, and allowed it was "far frae beseeming--But

what will ye say? The Captain's a queer hand, and to speak to him about

that or onything else that crosses the maggot, wad be to set the kiln

a-low. He keeps a high hand ower the country, and we couldna deal wi' the

Hielandmen without his protection, sin' a' the keys o' the kintray hings

at his belt; and he's no an ill body in the main, and maistry, ye ken,

maws the meadows doun."

"That may be very true, neighbour," said David; "but Reuben Butler isna

the man I take him to be, if he disna learn the Captain to fuff his pipe

some other gate than in God's house, or the quarter be ower."

"Fair and softly gangs far," said Meiklehose; "and if a fule may gie a

wise man a counsel, I wad hae him think twice or he mells with

Knockdunder--He auld hae a lang-shankit spune that wad sup kail wi' the

deil. But they are a' away to their dinner to the change-house, and if we

dinna mend our pace, we'll come short at meal-time."

David accompanied his friend without answer; but began to feel from

experience, that the glen of Knocktarlitie, like the rest of the world,

was haunted by its own special subjects of regret and discontent. His

mind was, so much occupied by considering the best means of converting

Duncan of Knock to a sense of reverend decency during public worship,

that he altogether forgot to inquire whether Butler was called upon to

subscribe the oaths to Government.

Some have insinuated, that his neglect on this head was, in some degree,

intentional; but I think this explanation inconsistent with the

simplicity of my friend David's character. Neither have I ever been able,

by the most minute inquiries, to know whether the _formula,_ at which he

so much scrupled, had been exacted from Butler, ay or no. The books of

the kirk-session might have thrown some light on this matter; but

unfortunately they were destroyed in the year 1746, by one Donacha Dhu na

Dunaigh, at the instance, it was said, or at least by the connivance, of

the gracious Duncan of Knock, who had a desire to obliterate the recorded

foibles of a certain Kate Finlayson.

The Heart of Mid-Lothian, Volume 2 · 第 33 / 61 题