Old Mortality, Complete

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER XIV.

  The charge is prepared, the lawyers are met, The judges all ranged--a terrible show! Beggar's Opera.

  So deep was the slumber which succeeded the agitation and embarrassmentof the preceding day, that Morton hardly knew where he was when it wasbroken by the tramp of horses, the hoarse voice of men, and the wildsound of the trumpets blowing the _reveille_. The sergeant-majorimmediately afterwards came to summon him, which he did in a veryrespectful manner, saying the General (for Claverhouse now held thatrank) hoped for the pleasure of his company upon the road. In somesituations an intimation is a command, and Morton considered that thepresent occasion was one of these. He waited upon Claverhouse as speedilyas he could, found his own horse saddled for his use, and Cuddie inattendance. Both were deprived of their fire-arms, though they seemed,otherwise, rather to make part of the troop than of the prisoners; andMorton was permitted to retain his sword, the wearing which was, in thosedays, the distinguishing mark of a gentleman. Claverhouse seemed also totake pleasure in riding beside him, in conversing with him, and inconfounding his ideas when he attempted to appreciate his real character.The gentleness and urbanity of that officer's general manners, the highand chivalrous sentiments of military devotion which he occasionallyexpressed, his deep and accurate insight into the human bosom, demandedat once the approbation and the wonder of those who conversed with him;while, on the other hand, his cold indifference to military violence andcruelty seemed altogether inconsistent with the social, and evenadmirable qualities which he displayed. Morton could not help, in hisheart, contrasting him with Balfour of Burley; and so deeply did the ideaimpress him, that he dropped a hint of it as they rode together at somedistance from the troop.

  "You are right," said Claverhouse, with a smile; "you are very right--weare both fanatics; but there is some distinction between the fanaticismof honour and that of dark and sullen superstition."

  "Yet you both shed blood without mercy or remorse," said Morton, whocould not suppress his feelings.

  "Surely," said Claverhouse, with the same composure; "but of whatkind?--There is a difference, I trust, between the blood of learned andreverend prelates and scholars, of gallant soldiers and noble gentlemen,and the red puddle that stagnates in the veins of psalm-singingmechanics, crackbrained demagogues, and sullen boors;--some distinction,in short, between spilling a flask of generous wine, and dashing down acan full of base muddy ale?"

  "Your distinction is too nice for my comprehension," replied Morton. "Godgives every spark of life--that of the peasant as well as of the prince;and those who destroy his work recklessly or causelessly, must answer ineither case. What right, for example, have I to General Grahame'sprotection now, more than when I first met him?"

  "And narrowly escaped the consequences, you would say?" answeredClaverhouse--"why, I will answer you frankly. Then I thought I had to dowith the son of an old roundheaded rebel, and the nephew of a sordidpresbyterian laird; now I know your points better, and there is thatabout you which I respect in an enemy as much as I like in a friend. Ihave learned a good deal concerning you since our first meeting, and Itrust that you have found that my construction of the information has notbeen unfavourable to you."

  "But yet," said Morton--

  "But yet," interrupted Grahame, taking up the word, "you would say youwere the same when I first met you that you are now? True; but then, howcould I know that? though, by the by, even my reluctance to suspend yourexecution may show you how high your abilities stood in my estimation."

  "Do you expect, General," said Morton, "that I ought to be particularlygrateful for such a mark of your esteem?"

  "Poh! poh! you are critical," returned Claverhouse. "I tell you I thoughtyou a different sort of person. Did you ever read Froissart?"

  "No," was Morton's answer.

  "I have half a mind," said Claverhouse, "to contrive you should have sixmonths' imprisonment in order to procure you that pleasure. His chaptersinspire me with more enthusiasm than even poetry itself. And the noblecanon, with what true chivalrous feeling he confines his beautifulexpressions of sorrow to the death of the gallant and high-bred knight,of whom it was a pity to see the fall, such was his loyalty to his king,pure faith to his religion, hardihood towards his enemy, and fidelity tohis lady-love!--Ah, benedicite! how he will mourn over the fall of such apearl of knighthood, be it on the side he happens to favour, or on theother. But, truly, for sweeping from the face of the earth some fewhundreds of villain churls, who are born but to plough it, the high-bornand inquisitive historian has marvellous little sympathy,--as little, orless, perhaps, than John Grahame of Claverhouse."

  "There is one ploughman in your possession, General, for whom," saidMorton, "in despite of the contempt in which you hold a profession whichsome philosophers have considered as useful as that of a soldier, I wouldhumbly request your favour."

  "You mean," said Claverhouse, looking at a memorandum book, "oneHatherick--Hedderick--or--or--Headrigg. Ay, Cuthbert, or CuddieHeadrigg--here I have him. O, never fear him, if he will be buttractable. The ladies of Tillietudlem made interest with me on hisaccount some time ago. He is to marry their waiting-maid, I think. Hewill be allowed to slip off easy, unless his obstinacy spoils his goodfortune."

  "He has no ambition to be a martyr, I believe," said Morton.

  "'Tis the better for him," said Claverhouse. "But, besides, although thefellow had more to answer for, I should stand his friend, for the sake ofthe blundering gallantry which threw him into the midst of our ranks lastnight, when seeking assistance for you. I never desert any man who trustsme with such implicit confidence. But, to deal sincerely with you, he hasbeen long in our eye.--Here, Halliday; bring me up the black book."

  The sergeant, having committed to his commander this ominous record ofthe disaffected, which was arranged in alphabetical order, Claverhouse,turning over the leaves as he rode on, began to read names as theyoccurred.

  "Gumblegumption, a minister, aged 50, indulged, close, sly, and soforth--Pooh! pooh!--He--He--I have him here--Heathercat; outlawed--apreacher--a zealous Cameronian--keeps a conventicle among the Campsiehills--Tush!--O, here is Headrigg--Cuthbert; his mother a bitterpuritan--himself a simple fellow--like to be forward in action, but ofno genius for plots--more for the hand than the head, and might be drawnto the right side, but for his attachment to"--(Here Claverhouse lookedat Morton, and then shut the book and changed his tone.) "Faithful andtrue are words never thrown away upon me, Mr Morton. You may depend onthe young man's safety."

  "Does it not revolt a mind like yours," said Morton, "to follow a systemwhich is to be supported by such minute enquiries after obscureindividuals?"

  "You do not suppose we take the trouble?" said the General, haughtily."The curates, for their own sakes, willingly collect all these materialsfor their own regulation in each parish; they know best the black sheepof the flock. I have had your picture for three years."

  "Indeed?" replied Morton. "Will you favour me by imparting it?"

  "Willingly," said Claverhouse; "it can signify little, for you cannotavenge yourself on the curate, as you will probably leave Scotland forsome time."

  This was spoken in an indifferent tone. Morton felt an involuntaryshudder at hearing words which implied a banishment from his native land;but ere he answered, Claverhouse proceeded to read, "Henry Morton, son ofSilas Morton, Colonel of horse for the Scottish Parliament, nephew andapparent heir of Morton of Milnwood--imperfectly educated, but withspirit beyond his years--excellent at all exercises--indifferent to formsof religion, but seems to incline to the presbyterian--has high-flown anddangerous notions about liberty of thought and speech, and hovers betweena latitudinarian and an enthusiast. Much admired and followed by theyouth of his own age--modest, quiet, and unassuming in manner, but in hisheart peculiarly bold and intractable. He is--Here follow three redcrosses, Mr Morton, which signify triply dangerous. You see how importanta person you are.--But what do
es this fellow want?"

  A horseman rode up as he spoke, and gave a letter. Claverhouse glanced itover, laughed scornfully, bade him tell his master to send his prisonersto Edinburgh, for there was no answer; and, as the man turned back, saidcontemptuously to Morton--"Here is an ally of yours deserted from you, orrather, I should say, an ally of your good friend Burley--Hear how hesets forth--'Dear Sir,' (I wonder when we were such intimates,) 'may itplease your Excellency to accept my humble congratulations on thevictory'--hum--hum--'blessed his Majesty's army. I pray you to understandI have my people under arms to take and intercept all fugitives, and havealready several prisoners,' and so forth. Subscribed Basil Olifant--Youknow the fellow by name, I suppose?"

  "A relative of Lady Margaret Bellenden," replied Morton, "is he not?"

  "Ay," replied Grahame, "and heir-male of her father's family, though adistant one, and moreover a suitor to the fair Edith, though discarded asan unworthy one; but, above all, a devoted admirer of the estate ofTillietudlem, and all thereunto belonging."

  "He takes an ill mode of recommending himself," said Morton, suppressinghis feelings, "to the family at Tillietudlem, by corresponding with ourunhappy party."

  "O, this precious Basil will turn cat in pan with any man!" repliedClaverhouse. "He was displeased with the government, because they wouldnot overturn in his favour a settlement of the late Earl of Torwood, bywhich his lordship gave his own estate to his own daughter; he wasdispleased with Lady Margaret, because she avowed no desire for hisalliance, and with the pretty Edith, because she did not like his tallungainly person. So he held a close correspondence with Burley, andraised his followers with the purpose of helping him, providing always heneeded no help, that is, if you had beat us yesterday. And now the rascalpretends he was all the while proposing the King's service, and, foraught I know, the council will receive his pretext for current coin, forhe knows how to make friends among them--and a dozen scores of poorvagabond fanatics will be shot, or hanged, while this cunning scoundrellies hid under the double cloak of loyalty, well-lined with the fox-furof hypocrisy."

  With conversation on this and other matters they beguiled the way,Claverhouse all the while speaking with great frankness to Morton, andtreating him rather as a friend and companion than as a prisoner; sothat, however uncertain of his fate, the hours he passed in the companyof this remarkable man were so much lightened by the varied play of hisimagination, and the depth of his knowledge of human nature, that sincethe period of his becoming a prisoner of war, which relieved him at oncefrom the cares of his doubtful and dangerous station among theinsurgents, and from the consequences of their suspicious resentment, hishours flowed on less anxiously than at any time since his havingcommenced actor in public life. He was now, with respect to his fortune,like a rider who has flung his reins on the horse's neck, and, while heabandoned himself to circumstances, was at least relieved from the taskof attempting to direct them. In this mood he journeyed on, the number ofhis companions being continually augmented by detached parties of horsewho came in from every quarter of the country, bringing with them, forthe most part, the unfortunate persons who had fallen into their power.At length they approached Edinburgh.

  "Our council," said Claverhouse, "being resolved, I suppose, to testifyby their present exultation the extent of their former terror, havedecreed a kind of triumphal entry to us victors and our captives; but asI do not quite approve the taste of it, I am willing to avoid my own partin the show, and, at the same time, to save you from yours."

  So saying, he gave up the command of the forces to Allan, (now aLieutenant-colonel,) and, turning his horse into a by-lane, rode into thecity privately, accompanied by Morton and two or three servants. WhenClaverhouse arrived at the quarters which he usually occupied in theCanongate, he assigned to his prisoner a small apartment, with anintimation, that his parole confined him to it for the present.

  After about a quarter of an hour spent in solitary musing on the strangevicissitudes of his late life, the attention of Morton was summoned tothe window by a great noise in the street beneath. Trumpets, drums, andkettle-drums, contended in noise with the shouts of a numerous rabble,and apprised him that the royal cavalry were passing in the triumphalattitude which Claverhouse had mentioned. The magistrates of the city,attended by their guard of halberds, had met the victors with theirwelcome at the gate of the city, and now preceded them as a part of theprocession. The next object was two heads borne upon pikes; and beforeeach bloody head were carried the hands of the dismembered sufferers,which were, by the brutal mockery of those who bore them, oftenapproached towards each other as if in the attitude of exhortation orprayer. These bloody trophies belonged to two preachers who had fallen atBothwell Bridge. After them came a cart led by the executioner'sassistant, in which were placed Macbriar, and other two prisoners, whoseemed of the same profession. They were bareheaded, and strongly bound,yet looked around them with an air rather of triumph than dismay, andappeared in no respect moved either by the fate of their companions, ofwhich the bloody evidences were carried before them, or by dread of theirown approaching execution, which these preliminaries so plainlyindicated.

  Behind these prisoners, thus held up to public infamy and derision, camea body of horse, brandishing their broadswords, and filling the widestreet with acclamations, which were answered by the tumultuous outcriesand shouts of the rabble, who, in every considerable town, are too happyin being permitted to huzza for any thing whatever which calls themtogether. In the rear of these troopers came the main body of theprisoners, at the head of whom were some of their leaders, who weretreated with every circumstance of inventive mockery and insult. Severalwere placed on horseback with their faces to the animal's tail; otherswere chained to long bars of iron, which they were obliged to support intheir hands, like the galleyslaves in Spain when travelling to the portwhere they are to be put on shipboard. The heads of others who had fallenwere borne in triumph before the survivors, some on pikes and halberds,some in sacks, bearing the names of the slaughtered persons labelled onthe outside. Such were the objects who headed the ghastly procession, whoseemed as effectually doomed to death as if they wore the sanbenitos ofthe condemned heretics in an auto-da-fe. [Note: David Hackston ofRathillet, who was wounded and made prisoner in the skirmish ofAir's-Moss, in which the celebrated Cameron fell, was, on enteringEdinburgh, "by order of the Council, received by the Magistrates at theWatergate, and set on a horse's bare back with his face to the tail, andthe other three laid on a goad of iron, and carried up the street, MrCameron's head being on a halberd before them."]

  Behind them came on the nameless crowd to the number of several hundreds,some retaining under their misfortunes a sense of confidence in the causefor which they suffered captivity, and were about to give a still morebloody testimony; others seemed pale, dispirited, dejected, questioningin their own minds their prudence in espousing a cause which Providenceseemed to have disowned, and looking about for some avenue through whichthey might escape from the consequences of their rashness. Others therewere who seemed incapable of forming an opinion on the subject, or ofentertaining either hope, confidence, or fear, but who, foaming withthirst and fatigue, stumbled along like over-driven oxen, lost to everything but their present sense of wretchedness, and without having anydistinct idea whether they were led to the shambles or to the pasture.These unfortunate men were guarded on each hand by troopers, and behindthem came the main body of the cavalry, whose military music resoundedback from the high houses on each side of the street, and mingled withtheir own songs of jubilee and triumph, and the wild shouts of therabble.

  Morton felt himself heart-sick while he gazed on the dismal spectacle,and recognised in the bloody heads, and still more miserable and agonizedfeatures of the living sufferers, faces which had been familiar to himduring the brief insurrection. He sunk down in a chair in a bewilderedand stupified state, from which he was awakened by the voice of Cuddie.

  "Lord forgie us, sir!" said the poor fellow, his teeth chattering like a
pair of nut-crackers, his hair erect like boar's bristles, and his faceas pale as that of a corpse--"Lord forgie us, sir! we maun instantly gangbefore the Council!--O Lord, what made them send for a puir bodie likeme, sae mony braw lords and gentles!--and there's my mither come on thelang tramp frae Glasgow to see to gar me testify, as she ca's it, that isto say, confess and be hanged; but deil tak me if they mak sic a guse o'Cuddie, if I can do better. But here's Claverhouse himsell--the Lordpreserve and forgie us, I say anes mair!"

  "You must immediately attend the Council Mr Morton," said Claverhouse,who entered while Cuddie spoke, "and your servant must go with you. Youneed be under no apprehension for the consequences to yourselfpersonally. But I warn you that you will see something that will give youmuch pain, and from which I would willingly have saved you, if I hadpossessed the power. My carriage waits us--shall we go?"

  It will be readily supposed that Morton did not venture to dispute thisinvitation, however unpleasant. He rose and accompanied Claverhouse.

  "I must apprise you," said the latter, as he led the way down stairs,"that you will get off cheap; and so will your servant, provided he cankeep his tongue quiet."

  Cuddie caught these last words to his exceeding joy.

  "Deil a fear o' me," said he, "an my mither disna pit her finger in thepie."

  At that moment his shoulder was seized by old Mause, who had contrived tothrust herself forward into the lobby of the apartment.

  "O, hinny, hinny!" said she to Cuddie, hanging upon his neck, "glad andproud, and sorry and humbled am I, a'in ane and the same instant, to seemy bairn ganging to testify for the truth gloriously with his mouth incouncil, as he did with his weapon in the field!"

  "Whisht, whisht, mither!" cried Cuddie impatiently. "Odd, ye daft wife,is this a time to speak o' thae things? I tell ye I'll testify naethingeither ae gate or another. I hae spoken to Mr Poundtext, and I'll tak thedeclaration, or whate'er they ca'it, and we're a' to win free off if wedo that--he's gotten life for himsell and a' his folk, and that's aminister for my siller; I like nane o' your sermons that end in a psalmat the Grassmarket." [Note: Then the place of public execution.]

  "O, Cuddie, man, laith wad I be they suld hurt ye," said old Mause,divided grievously between the safety of her son's soul and that of hisbody; "but mind, my bonny bairn, ye hae battled for the faith, and dinnalet the dread o' losing creature-comforts withdraw ye frae the gudefight."

  "Hout tout, mither," replied Cuddie, "I hae fought e'en ower mucklealready, and, to speak plain, I'm wearied o'the trade. I hae swaggeredwi' a' thae arms, and muskets, and pistols, buffcoats, and bandoliers,lang eneugh, and I like the pleughpaidle a hantle better. I ken naethingsuld gar a man fight, (that's to say, when he's no angry,) by andout-taken the dread o'being hanged or killed if he turns back."

  "But, my dear Cuddie," continued the persevering Mause, "your bridalgarment--Oh, hinny, dinna sully the marriage garment!"

  "Awa, awa, mither," replied. Cuddie; "dinna ye see the folks waiting forme?--Never fear me--I ken how to turn this far better than ye do--forye're bleezing awa about marriage, and the job is how we are to win byhanging."

  So saying, he extricated himself out of his mother's embraces, andrequested the soldiers who took him in charge to conduct him to the placeof examination without delay. He had been already preceded by Claverhouseand Morton.