by Walter Scott
CHAPTER NINETEENTH.
Farewell to the land where the clouds love to rest, Like the shroud of the dead, on the mountain's cold breast To the cataract's roar where the eagles reply, And the lake her lone bosom expands to the sky.
Our route lay through a dreary, yet romantic country, which the distressof my own mind prevented me from remarking particularly, and which,therefore, I will not attempt to describe. The lofty peak of Ben Lomond,here the predominant monarch of the mountains, lay on our right hand, andserved as a striking landmark. I was not awakened from my apathy, until,after a long and toilsome walk, we emerged through a pass in the hills,and Loch Lomond opened before us. I will spare you the attempt todescribe what you would hardly comprehend without going to see it. Butcertainly this noble lake, boasting innumerable beautiful islands, ofevery varying form and outline which fancy can frame,--its northernextremity narrowing until it is lost among dusky and retreatingmountains,--while, gradually widening as it extends to the southward, itspreads its base around the indentures and promontories of a fair andfertile land, affords one of the most surprising, beautiful, and sublimespectacles in nature. The eastern side, peculiarly rough and rugged, wasat this time the chief seat of MacGregor and his clan,--to curb whom, asmall garrison had been stationed in a central position betwixt LochLomond and another lake. The extreme strength of the country, however,with the numerous passes, marshes, caverns, and other places ofconcealment or defence, made the establishment of this little fort seemrather an acknowledgment of the danger, than an effectual means ofsecuring against it.
On more than one occasion, as well as on that which I witnessed, thegarrison suffered from the adventurous spirit of the outlaw and hisfollowers. These advantages were never sullied by ferocity when hehimself was in command; for, equally good-tempered and sagacious, heunderstood well the danger of incurring unnecessary odium. I learned withpleasure that he had caused the captives of the preceding day to beliberated in safety; and many traits of mercy, and even of generosity,are recorded of this remarkable man on similar occasions.
A boat waited for us in a creek beneath a huge rock, manned by four lustyHighland rowers; and our host took leave of us with great cordiality, andeven affection. Betwixt him and Mr. Jarvie, indeed, there seemed to exista degree of mutual regard, which formed a strong contrast to theirdifferent occupations and habits. After kissing each other very lovingly,and when they were just in the act of parting, the Bailie, in the fulnessof his heart, and with a faltering voice, assured his kinsman, "that ifever an hundred pund, or even twa hundred, would put him or his family ina settled way, he need but just send a line to the Saut-Market;" and Rob,grasping his basket-hilt with one hand, and shaking Mr. Jarvie's heartilywith the other, protested, "that if ever anybody should affront hiskinsman, an he would but let him ken, he would stow his lugs out of hishead, were he the best man in Glasgow."
With these assurances of mutual aid and continued good-will, we bore awayfrom the shore, and took our course for the south-western angle of thelake, where it gives birth to the river Leven. Rob Roy remained for sometime standing on the rock from beneath which we had departed, conspicuousby his long gun, waving tartans, and the single plume in his cap, whichin those days denoted the Highland gentleman and soldier; although Iobserve that the present military taste has decorated the Highland bonnetwith a quantity of black plumage resembling that which is borne beforefunerals. At length, as the distance increased between us, we saw himturn and go slowly up the side of the hill, followed by his immediateattendants or bodyguard.
We performed our voyage for a long time in silence, interrupted only bythe Gaelic chant which one of the rowers sung in low irregular measure,rising occasionally into a wild chorus, in which the others joined.
My own thoughts were sad enough;--yet I felt something soothing in themagnificent scenery with which I was surrounded; and thought, in theenthusiasm of the moment, that had my faith been that of Rome, I couldhave consented to live and die a lonely hermit in one of the romantic andbeautiful islands amongst which our boat glided.
The Bailie had also his speculations, but they were of somewhat adifferent complexion; as I found when, after about an hour's silence,during which he had been mentally engaged in the calculations necessary,he undertook to prove the possibility of draining the lake, and "givingto plough and harrow many hundred, ay, many a thousand acres, from whilkno man could get earthly gude e'enow, unless it were a gedd,* or a dishof perch now and then."
* A pike.
Amidst a long discussion, which he "crammed into mine ear against thestomach of my sense," I only remember, that it was part of his project topreserve a portion of the lake just deep enough and broad enough for thepurposes of water-carriage, so that coal-barges and gabbards should passas easily between Dumbarton and Glenfalloch as between Glasgow andGreenock.
At length we neared our distant place of landing, adjoining to the ruinsof an ancient castle, and just where the lake discharges its superfluouswaters into the Leven. There we found Dougal with the horses. The Bailiehad formed a plan with respect to "the creature," as well as upon thedraining of the lake; and, perhaps in both cases, with more regard to theutility than to the practical possibility of his scheme. "Dougal," hesaid, "ye are a kindly creature, and hae the sense and feeling o' what isdue to your betters--and I'm e'en wae for you, Dougal, for it canna bebut that in the life ye lead you suld get a Jeddart cast* ae day suner orlater. I trust, considering my services as a magistrate, and my fatherthe deacon's afore me, I hae interest eneugh in the council to gar themwink a wee at a waur faut than yours.
* ["The memory of Dunbar's legal (?) proceedings at Jedburgh is preservedin the proverbial phrase _Jeddart Justice,_ which signifies trial _after_execution."--_Minstrelsy of the Border,_ Preface, p. lvi.]
Sae I hae been thinking, that if ye will gang back to Glasgow wi' us,being a strong-backit creature, ye might be employed in the warehousetill something better suld cast up."
"Her nainsell muckle obliged till the Bailie's honour," replied Dougal;"but teil be in her shanks fan she gangs on a cause-way'd street, unlessshe be drawn up the Gallowgate wi' tows, as she was before."
In fact, I afterwards learned that Dougal had originally come to Glasgowas a prisoner, from being concerned in some depredation, but had somehowfound such favour in the eyes of the jailor, that, with ratheroverweening confidence, he had retained him in his service as one of theturnkeys; a task which Dougal had discharged with sufficient fidelity, sofar as was known, until overcome by his clannish prejudices on theunexpected appearance of his old leader.
Astonished at receiving so round a refusal to so favourable an offer, theBailie, turning to me, observed, that the "creature was a natural-bornidiot." I testified my own gratitude in a way which Dougal much betterrelished, by slipping a couple of guineas into his hand. He no soonerfelt the touch of the gold, than he sprung twice or thrice from the earthwith the agility of a wild buck, flinging out first one heel and thenanother, in a manner which would have astonished a French dancing-master.He ran to the boatmen to show them the prize, and a small gratuity madethem take part in his raptures. He then, to use a favourite expression ofthe dramatic John Bunyan, "went on his way, and I saw him no more."
The Bailie and I mounted our horses, and proceeded on the road toGlasgow. When we had lost the view of the lake, and its superbamphitheatre of mountains, I could not help expressing with enthusiasm,my sense of its natural beauties, although I was conscious that Mr.Jarvie was a very uncongenial spirit to communicate with on such asubject.
"Ye are a young gentleman," he replied, "and an Englishman, and a' thismay be very fine to you; but for me, wha am a plain man, and kensomething o' the different values of land, I wadna gie the finest sightwe hae seen in the Hielands, for the first keek o' the Gorbals o'Glasgow; and if I were ance there, it suldna be every fule's errand,begging your pardon, Mr. Francis, that suld take me out o' sight o' SaintMungo's steeple again!"
; The honest man had his wish; for, by dint of travelling very late, wearrived at his own house that night, or rather on the succeeding morning.Having seen my worthy fellow-traveller safely consigned to the charge ofthe considerate and officious Mattie, I proceeded to Mrs. Flyter's, inwhose house, even at this unwonted hour, light was still burning. Thedoor was opened by no less a person than Andrew Fairservice himself, who,upon the first sound of my voice, set up a loud shout of joyfulrecognition, and, without uttering a syllable, ran up stairs towards aparlour on the second floor, from the windows of which the lightproceeded. Justly conceiving that he went to announce my return to theanxious Owen, I followed him upon the foot. Owen was not alone, there wasanother in the apartment--it was my father.
The first impulse was to preserve the dignity of his usualequanimity,--"Francis, I am glad to see you." The next was to embrace metenderly,--"My dear--dear son!"--Owen secured one of my hands, andwetted it with his tears, while he joined in gratulating my return.These are scenes which address themselves to the eye and to the heartrather than to the ear--My old eye-lids still moisten at therecollection of our meeting; but your kind and affectionate feelingscan well imagine what I should find it impossible to describe.
When the tumult of our joy was over, I learnt that my father had arrivedfrom Holland shortly after Owen had set off for Scotland. Determined andrapid in all his movements, he only stopped to provide the means ofdischarging the obligations incumbent on his house. By his extensiveresources, with funds enlarged, and credit fortified, by eminent successin his continental speculation, he easily accomplished what perhaps hisabsence alone rendered difficult, and set out for Scotland to exactjustice from Rashleigh Osbaldistone, as well as to put order to hisaffairs in that country. My father's arrival in full credit, and with theample means of supporting his engagements honourably, as well asbenefiting his correspondents in future, was a stunning blow to MacVittieand Company, who had conceived his star set for ever. Highly incensed atthe usage his confidential clerk and agent had received at their hands,Mr. Osbaldistone refused every tender of apology and accommodation; andhaving settled the balance of their account, announced to them that, withall its numerous contingent advantages, that leaf of their ledger wasclosed for ever.
While he enjoyed this triumph over false friends, he was not a littlealarmed on my account. Owen, good man, had not supposed it possible thata journey of fifty or sixty miles, which may be made with so much easeand safety in any direction from London, could be attended with anyparticular danger. But he caught alarm, by sympathy, from my father, towhom the country, and the lawless character of its inhabitants, werebetter known.
These apprehensions were raised to agony, when, a few hours before Iarrived, Andrew Fairservice made his appearance, with a dismal andexaggerated account of the uncertain state in which he had left me. Thenobleman with whose troops he had been a sort of prisoner, had, afterexamination, not only dismissed him, but furnished him with the means ofreturning rapidly to Glasgow, in order to announce to my friends myprecarious and unpleasant situation.
Andrew was one of those persons who have no objection to the sort oftemporary attention and woeful importance which attaches itself to thebearer of bad tidings, and had therefore by no means smoothed down histale in the telling, especially as the rich London merchant himselfproved unexpectedly one of the auditors. He went at great length into anaccount of the dangers I had escaped, chiefly, as he insinuated, by meansof his own experience, exertion, and sagacity.
"What was to come of me now, when my better angel, in his (Andrew's)person, was removed from my side, it was," he said, "sad and sair toconjecture; that the Bailie was nae better than just naebody at a pinch,or something waur, for he was a conceited body--and Andrew hatedconceit--but certainly, atween the pistols and the carabines of thetroopers, that rappit aff the tane after the tother as fast as hail, andthe dirks and claymores o' the Hielanders, and the deep waters and weilso' the Avondow, it was to be thought there wad be a puir account of theyoung gentleman."
This statement would have driven Owen to despair, had he been alone andunsupported; but my father's perfect knowledge of mankind enabled himeasily to appreciate the character of Andrew, and the real amount of hisintelligence. Stripped of all exaggeration, however, it was alarmingenough to a parent. He determined to set out in person to obtain myliberty by ransom or negotiation, and was busied with Owen till a latehour, in order to get through some necessary correspondence, and devolveon the latter some business which should be transacted during hisabsence; and thus it chanced that I found them watchers.
It was late ere we separated to rest, and, too impatient long to endurerepose, I was stirring early the next morning. Andrew gave his attendanceat my levee, as in duty bound, and, instead of the scarecrow figure towhich he had been reduced at Aberfoil, now appeared in the attire of anundertaker, a goodly suit, namely, of the deepest mourning. It was nottill after one or two queries, which the rascal affected as long as hecould to misunderstand, that I found out he "had thought it but decent toput on mourning, on account of my inexpressible loss; and as the brokerat whose shop he had equipped himself, declined to receive the goodsagain, and as his own garments had been destroyed or carried off in myhonour's service, doubtless I and my honourable father, whom Providencehad blessed wi' the means, wadna suffer a puir lad to sit down wi' theloss; a stand o' claes was nae great matter to an Osbaldistone (bepraised for't!), especially to an old and attached servant o' the house."
As there was something of justice in Andrew's plea of loss in my service,his finesse succeeded; and he came by a good suit of mourning, with abeaver and all things conforming, as the exterior signs of woe for amaster who was alive and merry.
My father's first care, when he arose, was to visit Mr. Jarvie, for whosekindness he entertained the most grateful sentiments, which he expressedin very few, but manly and nervous terms. He explained the altered stateof his affairs, and offered the Bailie, on such terms as could not but beboth advantageous and acceptable, that part in his concerns which hadbeen hitherto managed by MacVittie and Company. The Bailie heartilycongratulated my father and Owen on the changed posture of their affairs,and, without affecting to disclaim that he had done his best to servethem, when matters looked otherwise, he said, "He had only just acted ashe wad be done by--that, as to the extension of their correspondence, hefrankly accepted it with thanks. Had MacVittie's folk behaved like honestmen," he said, "he wad hae liked ill to hae come in ahint them, and outafore them this gate. But it's otherwise, and they maun e'en stand theloss."
The Bailie then pulled me by the sleeve into a corner, and, after againcordially wishing me joy, proceeded, in rather an embarrassed tone--"Iwad heartily wish, Maister Francis, there suld be as little said aspossible about the queer things we saw up yonder awa. There's nae gude,unless ane were judicially examinate, to say onything about that awfu'job o' Morris--and the members o' the council wadna think it creditablein ane of their body to be fighting wi' a wheen Hielandmen, and singeingtheir plaidens--And abune a', though I am a decent sponsible man, when Iam on my right end, I canna but think I maun hae made a queer figurewithout my hat and my periwig, hinging by the middle like bawdrons, or acloak flung ower a cloak-pin. Bailie Grahame wad hae an unco hair in myneck an he got that tale by the end."
I could not suppress a smile when I recollected the Bailie's situation,although I certainly thought it no laughing matter at the time. Thegood-natured merchant was a little confused, but smiled also when heshook his head--"I see how it is--I see how it is. But say naething aboutit--there's a gude callant; and charge that lang-tongued, conceited,upsetting serving man o' yours, to sae naething neither. I wadna for eversae muckle that even the lassock Mattie ken'd onything about it. I wadnever hear an end o't."
He was obviously relieved from his impending fears of ridicule, when Itold him it was my father's intention to leave Glasgow almostimmediately. Indeed he had now no motive for remaining, since the mostvaluable part of the papers carried off by Rashleigh had
been recovered.For that portion which he had converted into cash and expended in his ownor on political intrigues, there was no mode of recovering it but by asuit at law, which was forthwith commenced, and proceeded, as ourlaw-agents assured us, with all deliberate speed.
We spent, accordingly, one hospitable day with the Bailie, and took leaveof him, as this narrative now does. He continued to grow in wealth,honour, and credit, and actually rose to the highest civic honours in hisnative city. About two years after the period I have mentioned, he tiredof his bachelor life, and promoted Mattie from her wheel by the kitchenfire to the upper end of his table, in the character of Mrs. Jarvie.Bailie Grahame, the MacVitties, and others (for all men have theirenemies, especially in the council of a royal burgh), ridiculed thistransformation. "But," said Mr. Jarvie, "let them say their say. I'llne'er fash mysell, nor lose my liking for sae feckless a matter as a ninedays' clash. My honest father the deacon had a byword,
Brent brow and lily skin, A loving heart, and a leal within, Is better than gowd or gentle kin.
Besides," as he always concluded, "Mattie was nae ordinary lassock-quean;she was akin to the Laird o' Limmerfield."
Whether it was owing to her descent or her good gifts, I do not presumeto decide; but Mattie behaved excellently in her exaltation, and relievedthe apprehensions of some of the Bailie's friends, who had deemed hisexperiment somewhat hazardous. I do not know that there was any otherincident of his quiet and useful life worthy of being particularlyrecorded.
