Read Ebook: Legendary Tales of the Highlands (Volume 3 of 3) A sequel to Highland Rambles by Lauder Thomas Dick Sir

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 768 lines and 61783 words, and 16 pages

OF THE THIRD VOLUME.

PAGE

THE LEGEND OF SERJEANT JOHN SMITH'S ADVENTURES, 1

COMFORTS OF A LONDON CLUB-HOUSE, 67

THE LEGEND, &c.--Continued, 73

CRUELTY OF THE DUKE OF CUMBERLAND AFTER THE BATTLE OF CULLODEN, 189

ALISTER SHAW OF INCHRORY, 193

DRUM-HEAD COURT-MARTIAL AND SENTENCE ON INCHRORY, 210

THE LEGEND OF THE VISION OF CAMPBELL OF INVERAWE, 212

JOHN SMITH EXHIBITS MILITARY GENIUS IN DEFENCE OF THE KILLOGIE, 46

JOHN SMITH UNDER THE TURF, 145

HIGHLAND RAMBLES.

THE LEGEND OF SERJEANT JOHN SMITH'S ADVENTURES.

"Hens on the midden, ducks in dubbs are seen,"

and you will be in full possession of the first scene of my tale, as well as acquainted with some of its more important dramatis personae.

Mr. MacArthur, the farmer, though a Highlander, was a stanch Whig, which made him, as you may well suppose, gentlemen, rather a

"Rara avis in terris, nigroque simillima cygno"

among his brother Celts. He had acquired his principles during his residence in England, where he had fallen in with and married his wife, who was a woman of good condition for her rank of life, and of superior yeddication. She was attached to the Hanoverian royal family, both by principle and interest. Her brother was an officer in the Royal Regiment; and as everything connected with England was dear to her, because it was her country, so every thing connected with the English army was especially dear to her on her brother's account.

During the year 1745, when the recruiting for the army of the Prince of the Stuarts was going on, many of Mr. MacArthur's servants, and John Smith in particular, manifested a strong disposition to enlist under his banners. But so powerful were the influence and eloquence of this English lady, that she succeeded in dissuading them, one by one, from following out the bent of their inclinations. This her zealous and active opposition to the Prince's cause, soon began to attract public attention, in a district where it was so generally favoured. She became a marked object of dislike to the Jacobites, and this all the more so, perhaps, that she was an Englishwoman. Oftener than once it happened, that, whilst they spared some of her neighbours, whose politics were dubious, and therefore obnoxious in their eyes, they plundered her goodman's farm on her especial account. But these depredations were comparatively trifling, and protected as she was by her husband's fortitude, she bore these little evils with the magnanimity of a martyr; nay, she even ventured to talk of them with contempt, and there were many people who believed that she actually gloried in them. As Mr. MacArthur was a Highlander, and spoke the Gaelic language fluently, he might perhaps have been able, by modest behaviour, kind treatment, and smooth words, in some degree to have mitigated the prejudice which his countrymen had against his wife as a Pensassenach, or English wife, as she was uniformly called by way of reproach. But husbands cannot always restrain the political enthusiasm of their ladies--and so it was with Mr. MacArthur. With or without his approbation she scrupled not, at times, when a good opportunity offered, to set the Jacobites at defiance, to give them all manner of opprobrious epithets, and, with all a woman's rashness, but with more than feminine intrepidity, she dared them to do their worst.

It was after sunset on the evening of the 13th of April, 1745, that the Pensassenach was seated in her elbow chair, by the fire in her little parlour. She was alone, for her husband had been called away from home, for some days, on very urgent business, and as she felt herself slightly indisposed, she was prepared to take particular care of herself for that night. A small tall-shaped chased silver vessel of mulled elderberry wine, with a close top to it to keep its contents warm, together with a very tiny silver cup, were placed beside her on a little round walnut-tree table, supported on a single spiral pillar with three claws. She was about to pour out a little of this medicinal fluid, to be taken preparatory to retiring to bed for the night, when she was startled by a noise in the kitchen, and immediately afterwards she was alarmed by the abrupt entrance of her maid Morag.

"Mem!--Mem!" cried the girl, breathless with the importance of her intelligence, "tare's Wully Tallas, ta packman in ta kitchen!--He's come a' ta way frae Speymouth sin yesterday. Ta Englishers are a' comin' upon us horse and futs!--horse and futs an' mockell cannons, an' we'll be a' mordered, an' waur!--fat wull we do?"

"What say you, girl?" exclaimed the Pensassenach, starting from her chair, and overturning all her meditated comforts in her hurry. "But get out of my way, you senseless fool, I'll speak to the man myself. Dallas! Will Dallas!" cried she, throwing her voice shrilly along the passage, towards the kitchen. "Come this way, Will Dallas, and let me hear your news from your own mouth!"

"Comin' mem!" cried the travelling merchant, as he appeared limping along the passage, by no means sorry to be thus called on to unbuckle his budget of news, which he was always ready to dispose of at a much cheaper rate than he generally sold his goods.

"Where have you come from, Will Dallas?" cried the Pensassenach; "and what news have ye got?"

"Weel, ye see, mem, I hae come straught frae Speymooth, as fast as my heavy pack and this happity lamiter leg o' mine wad let me," replied Dallas. "And my pack's very heavy yee noo, for I've got a grand new stock o' gudes in't."

"Well, well! never mind your goods at present!" cried the impatient Pensassenach; "quick! quick! what news have you?"

"Od, mem, it wad at no rate do for me no to mind my goods at a' times and at a' saisins," said Dallas. "But touching the news, mem,--the Duke, mem--that is, the Duke o' Cummerland, I mean, crossed the Spey yesterday wi' a' his airmy."

"Is it possible?" cried the Pensassenach, her eyes sparkling with delight.

"It's quite true, mem, for I seed the whole tott o' them yefeck the passage wi' my ain een," said Dallas.

"Ha! tell me, good Dallas, how did they cross?" demanded the lady.

"They just fuirded through the Spey, mem, in three grand deveesions, at three different pairts, just for a' the warld as gin ye had been rollin' aff three different pieces o' red ribban, like, at yae time," replied Dallas.

"A glorious sight!" cried the Pensassenach.

"Aye, truly, ye wad hae said sae had ye seen't, mem," said Dallas; "gin ye had seen them wi' the sun glancin' on their airms, and on the flashin' faem o' the Spey! Every bone o' them got safe across, exceppin yae dragoon that had taen a wee thoughty ower muckle liquor, and fell fae his horse,--and four weemen fouk, wha were whamled out o' a bit cairty, and wha were a' carried down, and a' drooned outright."

"Poor wretches!" said the Pensassenach. "But it was well they were not men: their lives were comparatively but little worth."

"You have no business with the women, Mr. Dallas," interrupted the Pensassenach impatiently--"it is of the men--of the troops, and of their noble and gallant leader that I would hear. All across, said you? and what became of the other Duke?" continued she, in a contemptuous tone. "I mean the rebel Duke--the Duke of Perth, I mean? Where was he, and where were his heroes, that they did not arrest the progress of the Royal army?"

"Troth, mem, the Duke o' Perth and his men just came on their ways wast the country, and left the English airmy to cross at their ain wull," replied Willy.

"Bravo! bravo!" shouted the lady, waving her hand around her head. "The false knaves dared not to face them! Well, any more news, Dallas?"

"I ken nae mair that I hae to tell ye," said Dallas, "exceppin' that I was in the English camp yestreen mysel', and that I selled a wheen caumrick pocket-napkins, and three yairds o' black ribban, till yere brither, Captain John, and I promised to ca' in by this way aince eerant to tell ye that he was weel, and to drink his health."

"Thank ye, thank ye, good Bill Dallas!" cried the lady, clapping her hands in an ecstasy of joy; "you shall not fail to do that; but why did you not tell me this joyful news before? Stay, my good man--here is for your happy tidings!" and, running to a corner cupboard, she brought out a bottle of brandy, and filled him a tasse, that made his eyes dance in his head after he had tossed it off.

"No--no--no!--not at present, Will," cried the Pensassenach, her patience quite exhausted with his prolixity. "Another time Will--but I have other fish to fry at present. Morag!--Morag, girl! run! call out all the men! My stars, how unfortunate it is that MacArthur is from home! How he would rejoice! Call all the men, I say!"

"Fat vas she cryin' aboot?" said Morag, hurrying to answer her call.

"Run and call all the men, I tell you, girl!" cried the Pensassenach, bustling about, all life and activity, and her indisposition entirely forgotten. "Call all the men I say; and John Smith in particular. I want John Smith here immediately. What glorious news! There wont be a rascally rebel knave of them left in the whole country. And my brother John coming too! Who knows but we may have the honour of being presented to his Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland in person! How provoking it is that MacArthur is from home!"

"Fat wad ta leddy be wantin' wi' her?" said John Smith, at that moment putting his head into the room, his Kilmarnock cowl, and the disordered state of the covering of so much of the upper part of his person as was visible, sufficiently indicating that he had been roused from his bed. "Fat wad ta leddy be wantin'? We wus a' beddit."

"Run, John!" cried the impatient lady, "run and make all the people get out of their beds directly! collect every one, man and woman, about the farm. Make them yoke all the carts, and drive a whole peat-stack to the head of the knoll, and build up a large bonfire, and see that you mix your layers of peats with layers of moss-fir, and dry furze-bushes. I'll have a blaze that shall be seen from Forres to Inverness. Have we any tar-barrels left?"

"Ou aye!" replied John; "a tar barrels tat was ower mockell fan we last tar ta sheeps."

"Then put the whole tar-barrel in the midst of all," cried the Pensassenach. "Come, John, why do you stand staring so? run, man, and do as I bid you, without a moment's delay."

"Ou aye, aye, she's runnin' fast," replied John, slowly moving away. "Fod, but she's thinks tat ta Pensassenach be gaen taft awtagedder."

"Morag! bring a basket here directly," cried the Pensassenach, as she hurried down stairs with the large key of the cellar in her hand. "Now," said she, putting a number of bottles into the basket, "take care of these; and make haste, and bring a cheese, and some loaves of bread, and follow me quickly out to the knoll with the basket."

In a very little time, an enormous pile of fuel was built up on the summit of the knoll, with the tar-barrel in the centre of it, to which an opening was at first left from the external air, which was afterwards partially filled with dry furze-bushes dipped in tar, so as to afford the flame a ready communication inwards. When every thing was prepared, the Pensassenach seized a lighted candle from a lantern, and, as Dryden hath it, she

"Like another Helen, fired another Troy!"

that is to say, she set fire, not to a city, indeed, but to the whin-bushes, and the flame running inwards, to the tar-barrel, the whole mighty fabric of fuel was instantaneously in such a blaze, that any one might have thought that it was Troy itself that was burning.

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet