Guy Mannering; or, The Astrologer — Complete

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER XII Yes ye moss-green walls, Ye towers defenceless, I revisit ye Shame-stricken! Where are all your trophies now? Your thronged courts, the revelry, the tumult, That spoke the grandeur of my house, the homage Of neighbouring barons?

  Mysterious Mother.

  Entering the castle of Ellangowan by a postern doorway which showedsymptoms of having been once secured with the most jealous care, Brown(whom, since he has set foot upon the property of his fathers, we shallhereafter call by his father's name of Bertram) wandered from one ruinedapartment to another, surprised at the massive strength of some parts ofthe building, the rude and impressive magnificence of others, and thegreat extent of the whole. In two of these rooms, close beside eachother, he saw signs of recent habitation. In one small apartment wereempty bottles, half-gnawed bones, and dried fragments of bread. In thevault which adjoined, and which was defended by a strong door, then leftopen, he observed a considerable quantity of straw, and in both were therelics of recent fires. How little was it possible for Bertram toconceive that such trivial circumstances were closely connected withincidents affecting his prosperity, his honour, perhaps his life!

  After satisfying his curiosity by a hasty glance through the interior ofthe castle, Bertram now advanced through the great gateway which openedto the land, and paused to look upon the noble landscape which itcommanded. Having in vain endeavoured to guess the position ofWoodbourne, and having nearly ascertained that of Kippletringan, heturned to take a parting look at the stately ruins which he had justtraversed. He admired the massive and picturesque effect of the hugeround towers, which, flanking the gateway, gave a double portion of depthand majesty to the high yet gloomy arch under which it opened. The carvedstone escutcheon of the ancient family, bearing for their arms threewolves' heads, was hung diagonally beneath the helmet and crest, thelatter being a wolf couchant pierced with an arrow. On either side stoodas supporters, in full human size or larger, a salvage man PROPER, to usethe language of heraldry, WREATHED AND CINCTURED, and holding in his handan oak tree ERADICATED, that is, torn up by the roots.

  'And the powerful barons who owned this blazonry,' thought Bertram,pursuing the usual train of ideas which flows upon the mind at suchscenes--'do their posterity continue to possess the lands which they hadlaboured to fortify so strongly? or are they wanderers, ignorant perhapseven of the fame or power of their fore-fathers, while their hereditarypossessions are held by a race of strangers? Why is it,' he thought,continuing to follow out the succession of ideas which the sceneprompted--'why is it that some scenes awaken thoughts which belong as itwere to dreams of early and shadowy recollection, such as my old Brahminmoonshie would have ascribed to a state of previous existence? Is it thevisions of our sleep that float confusedly in our memory, and arerecalled by the appearance of such real objects as in any respectcorrespond to the phantoms they presented to our imagination? How oftendo we find ourselves in society which we have never before met, and yetfeel impressed with a mysterious and ill-defined consciousness thatneither the scene, the speakers, nor the subject are entirely new; nay,feel as if we could anticipate that part of the conversation which hasnot yet taken place! It is even so with me while I gaze upon that ruin;nor can I divest myself of the idea that these massive towers and thatdark gateway, retiring through its deep-vaulted and ribbed arches, anddimly lighted by the courtyard beyond, are not entirely strange to me.Can it be that they have been familiar to me in infancy, and that I am toseek in their vicinity those friends of whom my childhood has still atender though faint remembrance, and whom I early exchanged for suchsevere task-masters? Yet Brown, who, I think, would not have deceived me,always told me I was brought off from the eastern coast, after a skirmishin which my father was killed; and I do remember enough of a horrid sceneof violence to strengthen his account.'

  It happened that the spot upon which young Bertram chanced to stationhimself for the better viewing the castle was nearly the same on whichhis father had died. It was marked by a large old oak-tree, the only oneon the esplanade, and which, having been used for executions by thebarons of Ellangowan, was called the Justice Tree. It chanced, and thecoincidence was remarkable, that Glossin was this morning engaged with aperson whom he was in the habit of consulting in such matters concerningsome projected repairs and a large addition to the house of Ellangowan,and that, having no great pleasure in remains so intimately connectedwith the grandeur of the former inhabitants, he had resolved to use thestones of the ruinous castle in his new edifice. Accordingly he came upthe bank, followed by the land-surveyor mentioned on a former occasion,who was also in the habit of acting as a sort of architect in case ofnecessity. In drawing the plans, etc., Glossin was in the custom ofrelying upon his own skill. Bertram's back was towards them as they cameup the ascent, and he was quite shrouded by the branches of the largetree, so that Glossin was not aware of the presence of the stranger tillhe was close upon him.

  'Yes, sir, as I have often said before to you, the Old Place is a perfectquarry of hewn stone, and it would be better for the estate if it wereall down, since it is only a den for smugglers.' At this instant Bertramturned short round upon Glossin at the distance of two yards only, andsaid--'Would you destroy this fine old castle, sir?'

  His face, person, and voice were so exactly those of his father in hisbest days, that Glossin, hearing his exclamation, and seeing such asudden apparition in the shape of his patron, and on nearly the very spotwhere he had expired, almost thought the grave had given up its dead! Hestaggered back two or three paces, as if he had received a sudden anddeadly wound. He instantly recovered, however, his presence of mind,stimulated by the thrilling reflection that it was no inhabitant of theother world which stood before him, but an injured man whom the slightestwant of dexterity on his part might lead to acquaintance with his rights,and the means of asserting them to his utter destruction. Yet his ideaswere so much confused by the shock he had received that his firstquestion partook of the alarm.

  'In the name of God, how came you here?' said Glossin.

  'How came I here?' repeated Bertram, surprised at the solemnity of theaddress; 'I landed a quarter of an hour since in the little harbourbeneath the castle, and was employing a moment's leisure in viewing thesefine ruins. I trust there is no intrusion?'

  'Intrusion, sir? No, sir,' said Glossin, in some degree recovering hisbreath, and then whispered a few words into his companion's ear, whoimmediately left him and descended towards the house. 'Intrusion, sir?no, sir; you or any gentleman are welcome to satisfy your curiosity.'

  'I thank you, sir,' said Bertram. 'They call this the Old Place, I aminformed?'

  'Yes, sir; in distinction to the New Place, my house there below.'

  Glossin, it must be remarked, was, during the following dialogue, on theone hand eager to learn what local recollections young Bertram hadretained of the scenes of his infancy, and on the other compelled to beextremely cautious in his replies, lest he should awaken or assist, bysome name, phrase, or anecdote, the slumbering train of association. Hesuffered, indeed, during the whole scene the agonies which he so richlydeserved; yet his pride and interest, like the fortitude of a NorthAmerican Indian, manned him to sustain the tortures inflicted at once bythe contending stings of a guilty conscience, of hatred, of fear, and ofsuspicion.

  'I wish to ask the name, sir,' said Bertram, 'of the family to whom thisstately ruin belongs.'

  'It is my property, sir; my name is Glossin.'

  'Glossin--Glossin?' repeated Bertram, as if the answer were somewhatdifferent from what he expected. 'I beg your pardon, Mr. Glossin; I amapt to be very absent. May I ask if the castle has been long in yourfamily?'

  'It was built, I believe, long ago by a family called Mac-Dingawaie,'answered Glossin, suppressing for obvious reasons the more familiar soundof Bertram, which might have awakened the recollections which he wasanxious to lull to rest, and slurring with an evasive answer the questionconcerning the endurance of his own possession.


  'And how do you read the half-defaced motto, sir,' said Bertram, 'whichis upon that scroll above the entablature with the arms?'

  'I--I--I really do not exactly know,' replied Glossin.

  'I should be apt to make it out, OUR RIGHT MAKES OUR MIGHT.'

  'I believe it is something of that kind,' said Glossin.

  'May I ask, sir,' said the stranger, 'if it is your family motto?'

  'N--n--no--no--not ours. That is, I believe, the motto of the formerpeople; mine is--mine is--in fact, I have had some correspondence withMr. Cumming of the Lyon Office in Edinburgh about mine. He writes me theGlossins anciently bore for a motto, "He who takes it, makes it."'

  'If there be any uncertainty, sir, and the case were mine,' said Bertram,'I would assume the old motto, which seems to me the better of the two.'

  Glossin, whose tongue by this time clove to the roof of his mouth, onlyanswered by a nod.

  'It is odd enough,' said Bertram, fixing his eye upon the arms andgateway, and partly addressing Glossin, partly as it were thinkingaloud--'it is odd the tricks which our memory plays us. The remnants ofan old prophecy, or song, or rhyme of some kind or other, return to myrecollection on hearing that motto; stay--it is a strange jingle ofsounds:--

  The dark shall be light, And the wrong made right, When Bertram's rightand Bertram's might Shall meet on---

  I cannot remember the last line--on some particular height; HEIGHT is therhyme, I am sure; but I cannot hit upon the preceding word.'

  'Confound your memory,' muttered Glossin, 'you remember by far too muchof it!'

  'There are other rhymes connected with these early recollections,'continued the young man. 'Pray, sir, is there any song current in thispart of the world respecting a daughter of the King of the Isle of Maneloping with a Scottish knight?'

  'I am the worst person in the world to consult upon legendaryantiquities,' answered Glossin.

  'I could sing such a ballad,' said Bertram, 'from one end to another whenI was a boy. You must know I left Scotland, which is my native country,very young, and those who brought me up discouraged all my attempts topreserve recollection of my native land, on account, I believe, of aboyish wish which I had to escape from their charge.'

  'Very natural,' said Glossin, but speaking as if his utmost efforts wereunable to unseal his lips beyond the width of a quarter of an inch, sothat his whole utterance was a kind of compressed muttering, verydifferent from the round, bold, bullying voice with which he usuallyspoke. Indeed, his appearance and demeanour during all this conversationseemed to diminish even his strength and stature; so that he appeared towither into the shadow of himself, now advancing one foot, now the other,now stooping and wriggling his shoulders, now fumbling with the buttonsof his waistcoat, now clasping his hands together; in short, he was thepicture of a mean-spirited, shuffling rascal in the very agonies ofdetection. To these appearances Bertram was totally inattentive, beingdragged on as it were by the current of his own associations. Indeed,although he addressed Glossin, he was not so much thinking of him asarguing upon the embarrassing state of his own feelings and recollection.'Yes,' he said, 'I preserved my language among the sailors, most of whomspoke English, and when I could get into a corner by myself I used tosing all that song over from beginning to end; I have forgot it all now,but I remember the tune well, though I cannot guess what should atpresent so strongly recall it to my memory.'

  He took his flageolet from his pocket and played a simple melody.Apparently the tune awoke the corresponding associations of a damsel who,close beside a fine spring about halfway down the descent, and which hadonce supplied the castle with water, was engaged in bleaching linen. Sheimmediately took up the song:--

  'Are these the Links of Forth, she said, Or are they the crooks of Dee, Or the bonnie woods of Warroch Head That I so fain would see?'

  'By heaven,' said Bertram, 'it is the very ballad! I must learn thesewords from the girl.'

  'Confusion!' thought Glossin; 'if I cannot put a stop to this all will beout. O the devil take all ballads and ballad-makers and ballad-singers!and that d--d jade too, to set up her pipe!'--'You will have time enoughfor this on some other occasion,' he said aloud; 'at present' (for now hesaw his emissary with two or three men coming up the bank)--'at presentwe must have some more serious conversation together.'

  'How do you mean, sir?' said Bertram, turning short upon him, and notliking the tone which he made use of.

  'Why, sir, as to that--I believe your name is Brown?' said Glossin. 'Andwhat of that, sir?'

  Glossin looked over his shoulder to see how near his party hadapproached; they were coming fast on. 'Vanbeest Brown? if I mistake not.'

  'And what of that, sir?' said Bertram, with increasing astonishment anddispleasure.

  'Why, in that case,' said Glossin, observing his friends had now got uponthe level space close beside them--'in that case you are my prisoner inthe king's name!' At the same time he stretched his hand towardsBertram's collar, while two of the men who had come up seized upon hisarms; he shook himself, however, free of their grasp by a violent effort,in which he pitched the most pertinacious down the bank, and, drawing hiscutlass, stood on the defensive, while those who had felt his strengthrecoiled from his presence and gazed at a safe distance. 'Observe,' hecalled out at the same time, 'that I have no purpose to resist legalauthority; satisfy me that you have a magistrate's warrant, and areauthorised to make this arrest, and I will obey it quietly; but let noman who loves his life venture to approach me till I am satisfied forwhat crime, and by whose authority, I am apprehended.'

  Glossin then caused one of the officers show a warrant for theapprehension of Vanbeest Brown, accused of the crime of wilfully andmaliciously shooting at Charles Hazlewood, younger of Hazlewood, with anintent to kill, and also of other crimes and misdemeanours, and whichappointed him, having been so apprehended, to be brought before the nextmagistrate for examination. The warrant being formal, and the fact suchas he could not deny, Bertram threw down his weapon and submitted himselfto the officers, who, flying on him with eagerness corresponding to theirformer pusillanimity, were about to load him with irons, alleging thestrength and activity which he had displayed as a justification of thisseverity. But Glossin was ashamed or afraid to permit this unnecessaryinsult, and directed the prisoner to be treated with all the decency, andeven respect, that was consistent with safety. Afraid, however, tointroduce him into his own house, where still further subjects ofrecollection might have been suggested, and anxious at the same time tocover his own proceedings by the sanction of another's authority, heordered his carriage (for he had lately set up a carriage) to be gotready, and in the meantime directed refreshments to be given to theprisoner and the officers, who were consigned to one of the rooms in theold castle, until the means of conveyance for examination before amagistrate should be provided.