Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 2 Historical, Traditional, and Imaginative , livre ebook

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138 pages

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pubOne.info thank you for your continued support and wish to present you this new edition. There was a criminal in a cart Agoing to be hanged - Reprieve to him was granted; The crowd and cart did stand, To see if he would marry a wife, Or, otherwise, choose to die! 'Oh, why should I torment my life?' The victim did reply; 'The bargain's bad in every part - But a wife's the worst! - drive on the cart.'

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Publié par	Pub One Info
Date de parution	23 octobre 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9782819916932
Langue	English

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THE WIFE OR THE WUDDY.
"There was a criminal in a cart Agoing to be hanged– Reprieve to him was granted; The crowd and cart did stand, To seeif he would marry a wife, Or, otherwise, choose to die! 'Oh, whyshould I torment my life?' The victim did reply; 'The bargain's badin every part – But a wife's the worst! – drive on the cart.'"
Honest Sir John Falstaff talketh of "minions of themoon;" and, truth to tell, two or three hundred years ago, nowherewas such an order of knighthood more prevalent than upon theBorders. Not only did the Scottish and English Borderers make theirforays across the Tweed and the ideal line, but rival chieftains,though of the same nation, considered themselves at liberty to makeinroads upon the property of each other. The laws of meum and tuum they were unable to comprehend. Theirs was thestrong man's world, and with them might was right .But to proceed with our story. About the beginning of theseventeenth century, one of the boldest knights upon the Borderswas William Scott, the young laird of Harden. His favouriteresidence was Oakwood Tower, a place of great strength, situated onthe banks of the Ettrick. The motto of his family was " Reparabitcornua Phoebe ," which being interpreted by his countrymen, intheir vernacular idiom, ran thus – "We'll hae moonlight again."Now, the young laird was one who considered it his chief honour togive effect to both the spirit and the letter of his family motto.Permitting us again to refer to honest Falstaff, it implied thatthey were "gentlemen of the night;" and he was not one who wouldloll upon his pillow when his "avocation" called him to theforay.
It was drawing towards midnight, in the month ofOctober, when the leaves in the forest had become brown and yellow,and with a hard sound rustled upon each other, that young Scottcalled together his retainers, and addressing them, said – "Lookye, friends, is it not a crying sin and a national shame to seethings going aglee as they are doing? There seems hardly such athing as manhood left upon the Borders. A bit scratch with a penupon parchment is becoming of more effect than a stroke with thesword. A bairn now stands as good a chance to hold and to have, asan armed man that has a hand to take and to defend. Such a state o'things was only made for those who are ower lazy to ride by night,and ower cowardly to fight. Never shall it be said that I, WilliamScott of Harden, was one who either submitted or conformed to it.Give me the good, old, manly law, that 'they shall keep who can,'and wi' my honest sword will I maintain my right against everyenemy. Now, there is our natural and lawful adversary, auld SirGideon Murray o' Elibank, carries his head as high as though hewere first cousin to a king, or the sole lord o' Ettrick Forest.More than once has he slighted me in a way which it wasna for aScott to bear; and weel do I ken that he has the will, and wantsbut the power, to harry us o' house and ha'. But, by my troth, heshall pay a dear reckoning for a' the insults he has offered to theScotts o' Harden. Now, every Murray among them has a weel-stockedmailing, and their kine are weel-favoured; to-night the moon islaughing cannily through the clouds: – therefore, what say ye,neighbours – will ye ride wi' me to Elibank? and, before morning,every man o' them shall have a toom byre." "Hurra!" shouted they,"for the young laird! He is a true Scott from head to heel! Rideon, and we will follow ye! Hurra! – the moon glents ower the hillsto guide us to the spoils o' Elibank! To-night we shall bringlangsyne back again."
There were twenty of them, stout and bold men,mounted upon light and active horses – some armed with firelocks,and others with Jeddart staves; while, in addition to such weapons,every man had a good sword by his side. At their head was thefearless young laird; and, at a brisk pace, they set off towardsElibank. Mothers and maidens ran to their cottage doors, and lookedafter them with foreboding hearts when they rode along; for it wasa saying amongst them, that "when young Willie Scott o' Harden sethis foot in the stirrup at night, there were to be swords drawnbefore morning." They knew, also, the feud between him and thehouse of Elibank, and as well did they know that the Murrays were aresolute and a sturdy race.
Morn had not dawned when they arrived at the scenewhere their booty lay. Not a Murray was abroad; and to the extremethey carried the threat of the young laird into execution, ofmaking "toom byres." By scores and by hundreds, they collectedtogether, into one immense herd, horned cattle and sheep, and theydrove them before them through the forest towards Oakwood Tower.The laird, in order to repel any rescue that might be attempted,brought up the rear, and, in the joy of his heart, he sang, and, attimes, cried aloud, "There will be dry breakfasts in Elibank beforethe sun gets oot, but a merry meal at Oakwood afore he gangs doun.An entire bullock shall be roasted, and wives and bairns shall eato' it." "I humbly beg your pardon, Maister William," said an oldretainer, named Simon Scott, and who traced a distant relationshipto the family; "I respectfully ask your pardon; but I have been inyour faither's family for forty years, and never was backward inthe hoor o' danger, or in a ploy like this; but ye will just alloome to observe, sir, that wilfu' waste maks wofu' want, and I seenae occasion whatever for roasting a bullock. It would be as bad asoor neebors on the ither side o' the Tweed, wha are roast,roastin', or bakin' in the oven, every day o' the week, and makin'a stane weight o' meat no gang sae far as twa or three pounds wadhae dune. Therefore, sir, if ye will tak my advice, if we are tohae a feast, there will be nae roastin' in the way. There was afine sharp frost the other nicht, and I observed the rime lyingupon the kail; so that baith greens and savoys will be as tender asa weel-boiled three-month-auld chicken; and I say, therefore, letthe beef be boiled, and let them hae ladlefu's o' kail, and ye willfind, sir, that instead o' a hail bullock, even if ye intend tofeast auld and young, male and female, upon the lands o' Oakwood, aquarter o' a bullock will be amply sufficient, and the rest can besauted doun for winter's provisions. Ye ken, sir, that the Murrayswinna let us lichtly slip for this nicht's wark; and it is ayesafest, as the saying is, to lay by for a sair fit." "Well argued,good Simon," said the young laird; "but your economy is ill-timed.After a night's work such as this there is surely some licence forgilravishing. I say it – and who dare contradict me? – to-nightthere is not one belonging to the house of Harden, be they old oryoung, who shall not eat of roast meat, and drink of the best.""Weel, sir," replied Simon, "wi' reverence be it spoken, but Iwould beg to say that ye are wrang. Folk that ance get a liking fordainties tak ill wi' plainer fare again; and, moreover, sir, in a'my experience, I never kenned dainty bits and hardihood to go handin hand; but, on the contrary, luxuries mak men effeminate, anddiscontented into the bargain."
The altercation between the old retainer and hisyoung master ran farther; but it was suddenly interrupted by thedeep-mouthed baying of a sleuth-hound; and its threatening howlswere followed by a loud cry, as if from fifty voices, of –"To-night for Sir Gideon and the house of Elibank!"
But here we pause to say that Sir Gideon Murray ofElibank was a man whose name was a sound of terror to all who werehis enemies. As a foe, he was fierce, resolute, unforgiving. He hadnever been known to turn his back upon a foe, or forgive an injury.He knew the meaning of justice in its severest sense, but not ofcompassion; he was a stranger to the attribute of mercy, and thelife of the man who had injured him, he regarded as little as thelife of the worm which he might tread beneath his heel upon hispath. He was a man of middle age; and had three daughters, none ofwhom were what the world calls beautiful; but, on the contrary,they were what even the dependents upon his estates described as"very ordinary-looking young women."
Such was Sir Gideon Murray of Elibank; and, althoughthe young laird of Harden conceived that he had come upon him as "athief in the night" – and some of my readers, from the transactionrecorded, may be somewhat apt to take the scriptural quotation in aliteral sense – yet I would say, as old Satchel sings of theBorderers of those days, they were men – "Somewhat unruly, and veryill to tame. I would have none think that I call them thieves; For,if I did, it would be arrant lies."
But, stealthily as the young master of Harden hadmade his preparations for the foray, old Sir Gideon had got timelynotice of it; and hence it was, that not a Murray seemed astir whenthey took the cattle from the byres, and drove them towardsOakwood. But, through the moonlight, there were eyes beheld everystep they took – their every movement was watched and traced; andamongst those who watched was the stern old knight, with fiftyfollowers at his back. "Quiet! quiet!" he again and again, in deepmurmurs, uttered to his dependents, throwing back his hand, andspeaking in a deep and earnest whisper, that awed even the slow butferocious sleuth-hound that accompanied them, and caused it tocrouch back to his feet. In a yet deeper whisper, he added,encouragingly – "Patience, my merry men! – bide your time! – yeshall hae work before long go by."
When, therefore, the young laird and his followersbegan to disperse in the thickest of the forest, as they drove thecattle before them, Sir Gideon suddenly exclaimed – "Now for theonset!" And, at the sound of his voice, the sleuth-hound howledloud and savagely. "We are followed! – Halt! halt! – to arms! toarms!" cried the heir of Harden.
Three or four were left in charge of the nowsomewhat scattered herd of cattle, and to drive them to a distance;while the rest of the party spurred back their horses as rapidly asthe tangle