Chronicles of the Canongate
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Sir Walter Scott >> Chronicles of the Canongate
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In the brief interval permitted them, Elspat exhausted every art
which affection could devise, to render agreeable to him the
space which they were apparently to spend with each other. Her
memory carried her far back into former days, and her stores of
legendary history, which furnish at all times a principal
amusement of the Highlander in his moments of repose, were
augmented by an unusual acquaintance with the songs of ancient
bards, and traditions of the most approved seannachies and
tellers of tales. Her officious attentions to her son's
accommodation, indeed, were so unremitted as almost to give him
pain, and he endeavoured quietly to prevent her from taking so
much personal toil in selecting the blooming heath for his bed,
or preparing the meal for his refreshment. "Let me alone,
Hamish," she would reply on such occasions; "you follow your own
will in departing from your mother, let your mother have hers in
doing what gives her pleasure while you remain."
So much she seemed to be reconciled to the arrangements which he
had made in her behalf, that she could hear him speak to her of
her removing to the lands of Green Colin, as the gentleman was
called, on whose estate he had provided her an asylum. In truth,
however, nothing could be farther from her thoughts. From what
he had said during their first violent dispute, Elspat had
gathered that, if Hamish returned not by the appointed time
permitted by his furlough, he would incur the hazard of corporal
punishment. Were he placed within the risk of being thus
dishonoured, she was well aware that he would never submit to the
disgrace by a return to the regiment where it might be inflicted.
Whether she looked to any farther probable consequences of her
unhappy scheme cannot be known; but the partner of MacTavish
Mhor, in all his perils and wanderings, was familiar with an
hundred instances of resistance or escape, by which one brave
man, amidst a land of rocks, lakes, and mountains, dangerous
passes, and dark forests, might baffle the pursuit of hundreds.
For the future, therefore, she feared nothing; her sole
engrossing object was to prevent her son from keeping his word
with his commanding officer.
With this secret purpose, she evaded the proposal which Hamish
repeatedly made, that they should set out together to take
possession of her new abode; and she resisted it upon grounds
apparently so natural to her character that her son was neither
alarmed nor displeased. "Let me not," she said, "in the same
short week, bid farewell to my only son, and to the glen in which
I have so long dwelt. Let my eye, when dimmed with weeping for
thee, still look around, for a while at least, upon Loch Awe and
on Ben Cruachan."
Hamish yielded the more willingly to his mother's humour in this
particular, that one or two persons who resided in a neighbouring
glen, and had given their sons to Barcaldine's levy, were also to
be provided for on the estate of the chieftain, and it was
apparently settled that Elspat was to take her journey along with
them when they should remove to their new residence. Thus,
Hamish believed that he had at once indulged his mother's humour,
and ensured her safety and accommodation. But she nourished in
her mind very different thoughts and projects.
The period of Hamish's leave of absence was fast approaching, and
more than once he proposed to depart, in such time as to ensure
his gaining easily and early Dunbarton, the town where were the
head-quarters of his regiment. But still his mother's
entreaties, his own natural disposition to linger among scenes
long dear to him, and, above all, his firm reliance in his speed
and activity, induced him to protract his departure till the
sixth day, being the very last which he could possibly afford to
spend with his mother, if indeed he meant to comply with the
conditions of his furlough.
CHAPTER V.
But for your son, believe it--oh, believe it--
Most dangerously you have with him prevailed,
If not most mortal to him. CORIOLANUS.
On the evening which preceded his proposed departure, Hamish
walked down to the river with his fishing-rod, to practise in the
Awe, for the last time, a sport in which he excelled, and to
find, at the same time, the means for making one social meal with
his mother on something better than their ordinary cheer. He was
as successful as usual, and soon killed a fine salmon. On his
return homeward an incident befell him, which he afterwards
related as ominous, though probably his heated imagination,
joined to the universal turn of his countrymen for the
marvellous, exaggerated into superstitious importance some very
ordinary and accidental circumstance.
In the path which he pursued homeward, he was surprised to
observe a person, who, like himself, was dressed and armed after
the old Highland fashion. The first idea that struck him was,
that the passenger belonged to his own corps, who, levied by
government, and bearing arms under royal authority, were not
amenable for breach of the statutes against the use of the
Highland garb or weapons. But he was struck on perceiving, as he
mended his pace to make up to his supposed comrade, meaning to
request his company for the next day's journey, that the stranger
wore a white cockade, the fatal badge which was proscribed in the
Highlands. The stature of the man was tall, and there was
something shadowy in the outline, which added to his size; and
his mode of motion, which rather resembled gliding than walking,
impressed Hamish with superstitious fears concerning the
character of the being which thus passed before him in the
twilight. He no longer strove to make up to the stranger, but
contented himself with keeping him in view, under the
superstition common to the Highlanders, that you ought neither to
intrude yourself on such supernatural apparitions as you may
witness, nor avoid their presence, but leave it to themselves to
withhold or extend their communication, as their power may
permit, or the purpose of their commission require.
Upon an elevated knoll by the side of the road, just where the
pathway turned down to Elspat's hut, the stranger made a pause,
and seemed to await Hamish's coming up. Hamish, on his part,
seeing it was necessary he should pass the object of his
suspicion, mustered up his courage, and approached the spot where
the stranger had placed himself; who first pointed to Elspat's
hut, and made, with arm and head, a gesture prohibiting Hamish to
approach it, then stretched his hand to the road which led to the
southward, with a motion which seemed to enjoin his instant
departure in that direction. In a moment afterwards the plaided
form was gone--Hamish did not exactly say vanished, because there
were rocks and stunted trees enough to have concealed him; but it
was his own opinion that he had seen the spirit of MacTavish
Mhor, warning him to commence his instant journey to Dunbarton,
without waiting till morning, or again visiting his mother's hut.
In fact, so many accidents might arise to delay his journey,
especially where there were many ferries, that it became his
settled purpose, though he could not depart without bidding his
mother adieu, that he neither could nor would abide longer than
for that object; and that the first glimpse of next day's sun
should see him many miles advanced towards Dunbarton. He
descended the path, therefore, and entering the cottage, he
communicated, in a hasty and troubled voice, which indicated
mental agitation, his determination to take his instant
departure. Somewhat to his surprise, Elspat appeared not to
combat his purpose, but she urged him to take some refreshment
ere he left her for ever. He did so hastily, and in silence,
thinking on the approaching separation, and scarce yet believing
it would take place without a final struggle with his mother's
fondness. To his surprise, she filled the quaigh with liquor for
his parting cup.
"Go," she said, "my son, since such is thy settled purpose; but
first stand once more on thy mother's hearth, the flame on which
will be extinguished long ere thy foot shall again be placed
there."
"To your health, mother!" said Hamish; "and may we meet again in
happiness, in spite of your ominous words."
"It were better not to part," said his mother, watching him as he
quaffed the liquor, of which he would have held it ominous to
have left a drop.
"And now," she said, muttering the words to herself, "go--if thou
canst go."
"Mother," said Hamish, as he replaced on the table the empty
quaigh, "thy drink is pleasant to the taste, but it takes away
the strength which it ought to give."
"Such is its first effect, my son," replied Elspat. "But lie
down upon that soft heather couch, shut your eyes but for a
moment, and, in the sleep of an hour, you shall have more
refreshment than in the ordinary repose of three whole nights,
could they be blended into one."
"Mother," said Hamish, upon whose brain the potion was now taking
rapid effect, "give me my bonnet--I must kiss you and begone--yet
it seems as if my feet were nailed to the floor."
"Indeed," said his mother, "you will be instantly well, if you
will sit down for half an hour--but half an hour. It is eight
hours to dawn, and dawn were time enough for your father's son to
begin such a journey."
"I must obey you, mother--I feel I must," said Hamish
inarticulately; "but call me when the moon rises."
He sat down on the bed, reclined back, and almost instantly was
fast asleep. With the throbbing glee of one who has brought to
an end a difficult and troublesome enterprise, Elspat proceeded
tenderly to arrange the plaid of the unconscious slumberer, to
whom her extravagant affection was doomed to be so fatal,
expressing, while busied in her office, her delight, in tones of
mingled tenderness and triumph. "Yes," she said, "calf of my
heart, the moon shall arise and set to thee, and so shall the
sun; but not to light thee from the land of thy fathers, or tempt
thee to serve the foreign prince or the feudal enemy! To no son
of Dermid shall I be delivered, to be fed like a bondswoman; but
he who is my pleasure and my pride shall be my guard and my
protector. They say the Highlands are changed; but I see Ben
Cruachan rear his crest as high as ever into the evening sky; no
one hath yet herded his kine on the depths of Loch Awe; and
yonder oak does not yet bend like a willow. The children of the
mountains will be such as their fathers, until the mountains
themselves shall be levelled with the strath. In these wild
forests, which used to support thousands of the brave, there is
still surely subsistence and refuge left for one aged woman, and
one gallant youth of the ancient race and the ancient manners."
While the misjudging mother thus exulted in the success of her
stratagem, we may mention to the reader that it was founded on
the acquaintance with drugs and simples which Elspat,
accomplished in all things belonging to the wild life which she
had led, possessed in an uncommon degree, and which she exercised
for various purposes. With the herbs, which she knew how to
select as well as how to distil, she could relieve more diseases
than a regular medical person could easily believe. She applied
some to dye the bright colours of the tartan; from others she
compounded draughts of various powers, and unhappily possessed
the secret of one which was strongly soporific. Upon the effects
of this last concoction, as the reader doubtless has anticipated,
she reckoned with security on delaying Hamish beyond the period
for which his return was appointed; and she trusted to his horror
for the apprehended punishment to which he was thus rendered
liable, to prevent him from returning at all.
Sound and deep, beyond natural rest, was the sleep of Hamish
MacTavish on that eventful evening, but not such the repose of
his mother. Scarce did she close her eyes from time to time, but
she awakened again with a start, in the terror that her son had
arisen and departed; and it was only on approaching his couch,
and hearing his deep-drawn and regular breathing, that she
reassured herself of the security of the repose in which he was
plunged.
Still, dawning, she feared, might awaken him, notwithstanding the
unusual strength of the potion with which she had drugged his
cup. If there remained a hope of mortal man accomplishing the
journey, she was aware that Hamish would attempt it, though he
were to die from fatigue upon the road. Animated by this new
fear, she studied to exclude the light, by stopping all the
crannies and crevices through which, rather than through any
regular entrance, the morning beams might find access to her
miserable dwelling; and this in order to detain amid its wants
and wretchedness the being on whom, if the world itself had been
at her disposal, she would have joyfully conferred it.
Her pains were bestowed unnecessarily. The sun rose high above
the heavens, and not the fleetest stag in Breadalbane, were the
hounds at his heels, could have sped, to save his life, so fast
as would have been necessary to keep Hamish's appointment. Her
purpose was fully attained--her son's return within the period
assigned was impossible. She deemed it equally impossible, that
he would ever dream of returning, standing, as he must now do, in
the danger of an infamous punishment. By degrees, and at
different times, she had gained from him a full acquaintance with
the predicament in which he would be placed by failing to appear
on the day appointed, and the very small hope he could entertain
of being treated with lenity.
It is well known, that the great and wise Earl of Chatham prided
himself on the scheme, by which he drew together for the defence
of the colonies those hardy Highlanders, who, until his time, had
been the objects of doubt, fear, and suspicion, on the part of
each successive administration. But some obstacles occurred,
from the peculiar habits and temper of this people, to the
execution of his patriotic project. By nature and habit, every
Highlander was accustomed to the use of arms, but at the same
time totally unaccustomed to, and impatient of, the restraints
imposed by discipline upon regular troops. They were a species
of militia, who had no conception of a camp as their only home.
If a battle was lost, they dispersed to save themselves, and look
out for the safety of their families; if won, they went back to
their glens to hoard up their booty, and attend to their cattle
and their farms. This privilege of going and coming at pleasure,
they would not be deprived of even by their chiefs, whose
authority was in most other respects so despotic. It followed as
a matter of course, that the new-levied Highland recruits could
scarce be made to comprehend the nature of a military engagement,
which compelled a man to serve in the army longer than he
pleased; and perhaps, in many instances, sufficient care was not
taken at enlisting to explain to them the permanency of the
engagement which they came under, lest such a disclosure should
induce them to change their mind. Desertions were therefore
become numerous from the newly-raised regiment, and the veteran
general who commanded at Dunbarton saw no better way of checking
them than by causing an unusually severe example to be made of a
deserter from an English corps. The young Highland regiment was
obliged to attend upon the punishment, which struck a people,
peculiarly jealous of personal honour, with equal horror and
disgust, and not unnaturally indisposed some of them to the
service. The old general, however, who had been regularly bred
in the German wars, stuck to his own opinion, and gave out in
orders that the first Highlander who might either desert, or fail
to appear at the expiry of his furlough, should be brought to the
halberds, and punished like the culprit whom they had seen in
that condition. No man doubted that General -- would keep his
word rigorously whenever severity was required, and Elspat,
therefore, knew that her son, when he perceived that due
compliance with his orders was impossible, must at the same time
consider the degrading punishment denounced against his defection
as inevitable, should he place himself within the general's
power. [See Note 10.--Fidelity of the Highlanders.]
When noon was well passed, new apprehensions came on the mind of
the lonely woman. Her son still slept under the influence of the
draught; but what if, being stronger than she had ever known it
administered, his health or his reason should be affected by its
potency? For the first time, likewise, notwithstanding her high
ideas on the subject of parental authority, she began to dread
the resentment of her son, whom her heart told her she had
wronged. Of late, she had observed that his temper was less
docile, and his determinations, especially upon this late
occasion of his enlistment, independently formed, and then boldly
carried through. She remembered the stern wilfulness of his
father when he accounted himself ill-used, and began to dread
that Hamish, upon finding the deceit she had put upon him, might
resent it even to the extent of cutting her off, and pursuing his
own course through the world alone. Such were the alarming and
yet the reasonable apprehensions which began to crowd upon the
unfortunate woman, after the apparent success of her ill-advised
stratagem.
It was near evening when Hamish first awoke, and then he was far
from being in the full possession either of his mental or bodily
powers. From his vague expressions and disordered pulse, Elspat
at first experienced much apprehension; but she used such
expedients as her medical knowledge suggested, and in the course
of the night she had the satisfaction to see him sink once more
into a deep sleep, which probably carried off the greater part of
the effects of the drug, for about sunrising she heard him arise,
and call to her for his bonnet. This she had purposely removed,
from a fear that he might awaken and depart in the night-time,
without her knowledge.
"My bonnet--my bonnet," cried Hamish; "it is time to take
farewell. Mother, your drink was too strong--the sun is up--but
with the next morning I will still see the double summit of the
ancient Dun. My bonnet--my bonnet, mother; I must be instant in
my departure." These expressions made it plain that poor Hamish
was unconscious that two nights and a day had passed since he had
drained the fatal quaigh, and Elspat had now to venture on what
she felt as the almost perilous, as well as painful, task of
explaining her machinations.
"Forgive me, my son," she said, approaching Hamish, and taking
him by the hand with an air of deferential awe, which perhaps she
had not always used to his father, even when in his moody fits.
"Forgive you, mother!--for what?" said Hamish, laughing; "for
giving me a dram that was too strong, and which my head still
feels this morning, or for hiding my bonnet to keep me an instant
longer? Nay, do YOU forgive ME. Give me the bonnet, and let
that be done which now must be done. Give me my bonnet, or I go
without it; surely I am not to be delayed by so trifling a want
as that--I, who have gone for years with only a strap of deer's
hide to tie back my hair. Trifle not, but give it me, or I must
go bareheaded, since to stay is impossible."
"My son," said Elspat, keeping fast hold of his hand, "what is
done cannot be recalled. Could you borrow the wings of yonder
eagle, you would arrive at the Dun too late for what you purpose
--too soon for what awaits you there. You believe you see the
sun rising for the first time since you have seen him set; but
yesterday beheld him climb Ben Cruachan, though your eyes were
closed to his light."
Hamish cast upon his mother a wild glance of extreme terror, then
instantly recovering himself, said, "I am no child to be cheated
out of my purpose by such tricks as these. Farewell, mother!
each moment is worth a lifetime."
"Stay," she said, "my dear, my deceived son, run not on infamy
and ruin. Yonder I see the priest upon the high-road on his
white horse. Ask him the day of the month and week; let him
decide between us."
With the speed of an eagle, Hamish darted up the acclivity, and
stood by the minister of Glenorquhy, who was pacing out thus
early to administer consolation to a distressed family near
Bunawe.
The good man was somewhat startled to behold an armed Highlander,
then so unusual a sight, and apparently much agitated, stop his
horse by the bridle, and ask him with a faltering voice the day
of the week and month. "Had you been where you should have been
yesterday, young man," replied the clergyman, "you would have
known that it was God's Sabbath; and that this is Monday, the
second day of the week, and twenty-first of the month."
"And this is true?" said Hamish.
"As true," answered the surprised minister, "as that I yesterday
preached the word of God to this parish. What ails you, young
man?--are you sick?--are you in your right mind?"
Hamish made no answer, only repeated to himself the first
expression of the clergyman, "Had you been where you should have
been yesterday;" and so saying, he let go the bridle, turned from
the road, and descended the path towards the hut, with the look
and pace of one who was going to execution. The minister looked
after him with surprise; but although he knew the inhabitant of
the hovel, the character of Elspat had not invited him to open
any communication with her, because she was generally reputed a
Papist, or rather one indifferent to all religion, except some
superstitious observances which had been handed down from her
parents. On Hamish the Reverend Mr. Tyrie had bestowed
instructions when he was occasionally thrown in his way; and if
the seed fell among the brambles and thorns of a wild and
uncultivated disposition, it had not yet been entirely checked or
destroyed. There was something so ghastly in the present
expression of the youth's features that the good man was tempted
to go down to the hovel, and inquire whether any distress had
befallen the inhabitants, in which his presence might be
consoling and his ministry useful. Unhappily he did not
persevere in this resolution, which might have saved a great
misfortune, as he would have probably become a mediator for the
unfortunate young man; but a recollection of the wild moods of
such Highlanders as had been educated after the old fashion of
the country, prevented his interesting himself in the widow and
son of the far-dreaded robber, MacTavish Mhor, and he thus missed
an opportunity, which he afterwards sorely repented, of doing
much good.
When Hamish MacTavish entered his mother's hut, it was only to
throw himself on the bed he had left, and exclaiming, "Undone,
undone!" to give vent, in cries of grief and anger, to his deep
sense of the deceit which had been practised on him, and of the
cruel predicament to which he was reduced.
Elspat was prepared for the first explosion of her son's passion,
and said to herself, "It is but the mountain torrent, swelled by
the thunder shower. Let us sit and rest us by the bank; for all
its present tumult, the time will soon come when we may pass it
dryshod." She suffered his complaints and his reproaches, which
were, even in the midst of his agony, respectful and
affectionate, to die away without returning any answer; and when,
at length, having exhausted all the exclamations of sorrow which
his language, copious in expressing the feelings of the heart,
affords to the sufferer, he sunk into a gloomy silence, she
suffered the interval to continue near an hour ere she approached
her son's couch.
"And now," she said at length, with a voice in which the
authority of the mother was qualified by her tenderness, "have
you exhausted your idle sorrows, and are you able to place what
you have gained against what you have lost? Is the false son of
Dermid your brother, or the father of your tribe, that you weep
because you cannot bind yourself to his belt, and become one of
those who must do his bidding? Could you find in yonder distant
country the lakes and the mountains that you leave behind you
here? Can you hunt the deer of Breadalbane in the forests of
America, or will the ocean afford you the silver-scaled salmon of
the Awe? Consider, then, what is your loss, and, like a wise
man, set it against what you have won."
"I have lost all, mother," replied Hamish, "since I have broken
my word, and lost my honour. I might tell my tale, but who, oh,
who would believe me?" The unfortunate young man again clasped
his hands together, and, pressing them to his forehead, hid his
face upon the bed.
Elspat was now really alarmed, and perhaps wished the fatal
deceit had been left unattempted. She had no hope or refuge
saving in the eloquence of persuasion, of which she possessed no
small share, though her total ignorance of the world as it
actually existed rendered its energy unavailing. She urged her
son, by every tender epithet which a parent could bestow, to take
care for his own safety.
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