1/
I      ~i,' __
Glidina, to tle chcart tlhe sleeper, she dropped a kiss sipon his lilp as tllt as if a roseleof iad  1i1(ell oil
themec. The slumbers must have been slioilt wshich such a touch could dispel.'..... Nay, be slot
angry    od   enry,' said Cithaie, ill ithe kindest tone, to  er surprse  lover.  I have paid miy vo..
to Saint Valentisle, to shows hoes I value the  mllate ws ich lee has sent mle for thle year.  let but ill)'
fatlier be present, ald I will not dare to ref se thee tle revenge   ou  llay clain for a broken sleop.'
Let seot that be a ikiderancee  said thce old Glov er, rusling i5 ecstas0   ilotO thc rOOnIl.- ST.sAL'NTINE'S
DAY  Part I. pV. 
DAYr Part!. p. L




?"=
X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
%Kk
I                                                 I~~~~~~~~I
Li
iiK
[I~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~!I
"Hlere is dead silence,' said Catharine, after she had listened attentively ior a momien t.'leaven
and earth, he is gone I  I  We must risk something,' saidT her companion, and ran her fingers over the
stripilia of her guitar..& sigh was the only answer front thre depth of the d ti,-geoti. Catha.rine then
ventured to speak...... I It is I, my lord, Catharine G loer, - I have found, if - vouid p~aas!:A l7
to you.' I Ilsavert bless thee, maiden I1I thouglht the pain was over, but it glows agail within mep zl t he
n,,,m' Of food,"' "- ST, VaL.~xr_,"TN':DAY, IB'af;t! I, pp. 19;J,, 194,
-;i      ~         ~         ~         ~        ~         ~         E=Y
9~~~~~~~~~~~~~i~~
~~~~,                                                                       ~-s~~I9 <                                 ~-~- ~
i~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~                                                                     I.~~~~~;Ic~~~~~~~I
US' ~  ~      ~'~i~N~          I~~~`~~ ai 2~  K;r ~41 
ded ilecsi   ahrn    fersehdlsee    letirl11anoet Nae
he'h,~J.~~H~   isgn''W   utv ksmtig  si   ormpnoadia   e   iesoe  h
liar git r        sial was te onl answr fro  ti'ip iiiof ii  diiiei   I i~seric t!e
ventuied to speak'It is I my bid, Cotharino (beer    9 hi~~~~~~~ feed, sf S mold  rair'So be~,~
to you Itesven l~~eso thee icisiden l I thoscht the pun is over lint it'bows moist within me
name of feed  Cr VA;j~i lIU'LcesoteP r  se I pbl 








WAVERLEY NOVELS:
LIBRARY EDITION.
VOL. XXI.
CHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE
SECOND SERIES.
SAINT VALENTINE'S DAY.
FROM THE LAST REVISED EDITION, CONTAINING THE AUTHOR'S
FINAL CORRECTIONS, NOTES, &c.''
PARKER S EDITION.
BOSTON:
SANBORN, CARTER AND BAZIN.
NEW YORK: J. S. REDFIELD; C. S. FRANCIS & CO.
PHILADELPHIA: THOMAS, COWPERTHWAIT & CO.
CINCINNATI: H. W. DERBY & CO.
1855.








PRE FACE.
IN continuing the lucubrations of Chrystal Cloftangry,
it occurred that, although the press had of late years
teemed with works of various descriptions concerning the
Scottish Gael, no attempt had hitherto been made to
sketch their manners, as these might be supposed to have
ex-?sed at the period when the Statute-book, as well as
the page of the chronicler, begins to present constant
evidence of the difficulties to which the crown was exposed, while the haughty house of Douglas all but overbalanced its authority on the Southern border, and the
North was at the same time torn in pieces by the yet untamed savageness of the Highland races, and the daring
loftiness to which some of the remoter chieftains still carried their pretensions. The well-authenticated fact of
two powerful clans having deputed each thirty champions
to fight out a quarrel of old standing, in presence of King
Robert III., his brother the Duke of Albany, and the
whole court of Scotland, at Perth, in the year of grace
1396, seenmed to mark with equal distinctness the rancour
of these mountain-feuds, and the degraded condition of
the general government of' the country; and it was fixed
upon accordingly as the point on which the main incidents
of a romantic narrative might be made to hinge.  The
characters of Robert lII., his ambitious brother, and his
dissolute son, seemed to offer some opportunities of interesting contrast;-and the tragic fate of the heir of tE e
throne, with its immediate consequences, might serve to
complete the picture of cruelty and lawlessness.
Two features of the story of this barrier-battle on the
Inch of Perth, the flight of one of the appointed chanm



V                   PREFACE.
pions, and the reckless heroism of a townsman, that voluntarily offered for a small piece of coin to supply his
place in the mortal encounter, suggested the imaginary
persons, on whom much of the novel is expended.  Tile
fugitive Celt might have been easily dealt with, had a
ludicrous style of colouring been adopted; but it appeared to the author that there would be more of novelty, as
well as of serious interest, if he could succeed in gaining
for him something of that sympathy which is incompatible
with the total absence of respect.  Miss Baillie had
drawn a coward by nature capable of acting as a hero
under the strong impulse of filial affection.  It seemed
not impossible to conceive the case of one constitutionally
weak of nerve, being supported by feelings of honour
and of jealousy up to a certain point, and then suddenly
giving way, under circumstances to which the bravest
heart could hardly refuse compassion.
The cofitroversy, as to who really were the clans that
figured in the barbarous conflict of' the Inch, has been
revived since the publication of the Fair Maid of Perth,
and treated in particular at great length by M3r. Robert
AMackay of Thurso, in his very curious " History of the
House and Clan of AMackay."*  Without pretending to
say that he has settled any part of the question in the
affirmative, this gentleman certainly seems to have quite
succeeded in proving that his own worthy sept had no
part in the transaction.  The Mackays were in that age
seated, as they have since continued to be, in the extreme
north of the island; and their chief at the time was a
personage of such importance, that his name and proper
designation could not have been omitted in the early narratives of the occurrence.  He on one occasion bioughllt
four thousand of his clan to the aid of the royal banner
against the Lord of the Isles.  This historian is of opinion
that the Clan Quhele of Wyntoun were the Camerons,
who appear to have about that period been often designated
as Jklacewans, and to have gained much more recently the' Edinburgh, 4to, 1829.




PREFACE  V
name of Cameron, i. e. Wrynose, from a blemish in the
physiognomy of some heroic chief of the line of Lochiel.
This view of the case is also adopted by Douglas in his
Baronage, where he frequently mentions the bitter feuds
between Clan  Chattan and Clan Kay, and identifies the
latter sept, in reference to the events  of 1396, with  the
Camerons.   It is  perhaps  impossible  to  clear up  thoroughly this controversy, little interesting in itself, at least
to' readers on this side of Inverness.   The names, as we
have them  in Wyntoun, are Clanwhewyl and  Clachinya,
the latter probably not correctly transcribed. In the
Scoti-Chronicon  they  are   Clanquhele   and   Clankay.
Hector Boece writes Clalchalttan and  Clankay, in which
he is followed by Leslie; while Buchanan disdains to disfigure his page  with their Gaelic  designations at all, and
merely describes them   as two powerful races in the wild
and lawless region  beyond  the Gramnpians.   Out of this
jumble what Sassenach  can  pretend  dare lucem?  The
name Clanwheill appears  so  late  as 1594, in an act of
James VI.   Is it not possible  that it may be, after all, a
mere corruption of Clan Lochiel?
The  reader may not be displeased to have ~Wyntoun's
original rhymes:
" A thousand and thre hunder yere,
Nynty and sex to inak all clereOf thlre-score wyld Scottis mlen,
Thretty agarle thretty then,
In Felny boliiit of aulc l'ecde,"
As thare fore-eldlers ware slane to ddo I
T'la thre-score ware clannys twa,
Claliyilhe Qwhlewyl and Clachinyha:
Of thir twa K.ylnis ware tha Inen,
T']hretty agane threttl thenl
And lhare Lthai had thlair Chiiftanys twa
Schatf Ferqwharis' son wes ane of tIla.
The tother Cristy Johliseotle.
A selcotitl ttliil by tla was done.
At Saict J.ollistolunl tbesyvle the Freris,
All thai enterit in Barreris
Wythl bow anld ax, knyf andl swerd,' i e. Bziled with the cracilty of an old feud.
t Schta is supposed to be Toshach, i. e. A-Macintosh: the father of the chief
tf this sept at the time was named Ferchard.  Iln Bowar lie is ScheaLeg, i. e.
loshach the little




Vi                      PREFACE.
To deil amang thaim thair last werd.*
Thare thai laid on that time sa fast,
(tla ihad the waret thare at the last
I will nocht say; but quha best had,
lie was but dout bathe miuth and mad.t
Fifty or ma  ware slane that day,
Suai few wyth lif than past away."
The Prior of' Lochleven makes no mention eitlher of
khe evasion of one of the  Gaelic champions, or of the
gallantry of the Perth artisan, in offering to take a share
in the conflict.  13oth incidents, however, were introduced, no doubt from  tradition, by the continuator of
Fordun, whose narrative is in these words:"Anno Dom. millesimo trecentesimo nonagesimo sexto,
magna pars borealis Scotia, trans Alpes, inquietata fuit
per duos pestiferos Cateranos, et eoruim  sequaces, Viz.
Schleabeo et suos consanguinarios, qui Clankay; et CristiJonson, ac suos, qui Clanquhele dicebantur; qui nullo
pacto vel tractatu pacificari poterant, nulltaque arte regis vel
gubernatoris poterant edomari, quoadusque nobilis et industriosus D. David de Lindesay de Crawford, et dominus
Thomas comes Aloravie, diligrentiam et vires apposuerunt,
ac inter partes sic tractaverunt, ut coram domino rege certo
die convenirent apud Perth, et alterutra pars eligeret de
progenie sua triginta personas adversus triginta de parte contraria, oladiis tantum, arcubus et sagittis, absque deploidibus, vel armaturis aliis, prTter bipennes; et sic congredientes
finem liti ponerent, et terra pace potiretur.  Utrique igitur
parti summe placuit contractus, et die Luna proximo ante
festumn  Sancti fliclhaelis, apud North-insulamn  de P'erth,
coram  Rege et Gubernatore, et innumerabili multitudine
comparentes, conflictum acerrimum inierunt: ubi de sexaginta interfecti sunt omnes, excepto uno ex parte Clankay, et undecim exceptis ex parte altera.  Hoc etiam ibi
accidit, quotl onmnes in prtecinctu belli constituti, unus
eorum locum diffugii considerans, inter omnes in arnneom
elabitur, et aquam  de Thllaa natando transtreditur; a
millenis insequitur, sed nusquam  apprehenditur.  Stant
* i. e. Fate, doom.           t The wasur-the worse,
ut Moth and mad, i. e. exhausted both in body and in mind.




PRE-FACE.                    Vii
Igitur partes attonitre, tanquam non ad conflictum progressuri, ob defecturn evasi: noluit enim pars integrum habens
Numerum sociorum consentire, ut unus de suis demneretur;
nec potuit pars altera quocumque pretio alterum ad supplendum vicem fugientis inducere. Stupent igitur omnes
haerentes, de damno fugitivi conquerentes.  Et cuim totum
illud opus cessare putaretur, ecce in medio prorupit unus
stipulosus vernaculus, statura modicus, sed efferus, dicens;
Ecce ego! quis me conducet intrare cum operariis istis
ad hunc ludum  theatralem?  Pro dimidia enim  marca
ludum experiar, ultra hoc petens, ut si vivus de palestra
evasero, victum'a quocumque vestrfim recipiam dum
vixero: quia, sicut dicitur,' Majorem  caritatem  nemo
habet, quam ut anitnam suam ponat quis pro amicis.'
Quali mercede donabor, qui animam  meam pro inimicis
reipublicam et regni pono? Quod petiit, a rege et diversis
magnatibus conceditur.  Cum  hoc arcus ejus extenditur,
et primo sagittam  in partem  contrariam  transmittit, et
unum  interficit.   Confestim  hinc inde sagittan volitant,
bipennes librant, gladios vibrant, alterutro certant, et veluti
carnifices boves in macello, sic inconsternat6 ad invicem
se trucidant.  Sed nec inter tantos repertus est vel unus,
qui, tanquam vecors aut timidus, sive post tergum alterius
declinans, seipsum a tanta caede praetendit excusare.  Iste
tamen tyro superveniens finaliter illesus exivit; et dehinc
multo tempore Boreas quievit; nec ibidem fuit, ut supra,
Cateranorum excursus."
The scene is heightened with many florid additions by
Boece and Leslie, and the contending savages in Buchanan utter speeches after the most approved pattern of Livy.
The devotion of the young Chief of Clan Quhele's
foster-father and foster-brethren, in the novel, is a trait of
clannish fidelity, of which Highland story furnishes many
examples.  In the battle of Inverkeithing, between the
Rovalists and Oliver Cromwell's troops, a foster-father
and seven brave sons are known to have thus sacrificed
themselves for Sir Hector Maclean of Duart-the old
man, whenever one of his boys fell, thrusting forward




Vl111               PREFACE.
another to fill his place at the right hand of the beloved
chief, with the very words adopted in the novel —" Another for Hector!"
Nay, the feeling could outlive generations. The late
much lamented General Stewart of Garth, in his account
of the battle of Killikrankie, informns us that Lochiel was attended on the field by the son of his foster-brother. " This
faithful adherent followed him like his shadow, ready to
assist him with his sword, or cover him from the shot of
the enemy. Suddenly the chief missed his friend from his
side, and turning round to look what had become of him,
saw him lying on his back with his breast pierced by an
arrow.  He had hardly breath, before he expired, to tell
Lochiel, that seeing an enemy, a Highlander in General
Mackay's army, aiming at him with a bow and arrow, he
sprung behind him, and thus sheltered him  from instant
death.  This," observes the gallant David Stewart," "is
a species of duty not often practised, perhaps, by our
aids-de-camp of the present day." —Sketches of the Highlanders, Vol. 1. p. 65.
I have only to add, that the Second Series of" Chronicles of the Canongate," with the Chapter Introductory
which now follows, appeared in May 1828, and had a
favourable reception.
ABBOTSFORD,
Aug. 15, 1831. i




CH RON IC LES
OF
THE CANONGATE.
SECOND SERIES.
SAINT VALENTINE'S DAY:
o F,
THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH








CHRONICLES
OF
THE CANONGATE.
INTRODUCTORY.
The ashes here of murder'd Kings
Beneath my footsteps sleep;
And yonder lies the scene of death,
Where Mary learn'd to weep.
Captain Mlarjoribanks.
EVERY quarter of Edinburgh has its own peculiar
boast, so that the city together combines within its precincts, (if you take the word of the inhabitants on the
subject,) as much of historical interest as of natural beauty.
Our claims in behalf of the Canongate are not the slightest
The Castle may excel us in extent of prospect and sublimity
of site; the Calton had always the superiority of its unrivalled panorama, and has of late added that of its towers, and triumphal arches and the pillars of its Parthenon.
The High Street, we acknowledge, had the distinguished
honour of being defended by fortifications, of which we
can show no vestiges.  We will not descend to notice the
claims of more upstart districts, called Old New Town
and New New Town, not to mention the favourite Moray
Place, which is the newest New Town of all.1 We will
not match ourselves except with our equals, and with our




4       CHILRONICLES OF TIE CANONGATE.
equals in age only, for in dignity we admit of none.  We
boast being the Court end of the town, possessing the
Palace and the sepulchral remains of ancient Monarchs.
and that we have the power to excite, in a degree unknown to the less honoured quarters of the city, the dark
and solemn recollections of ancient grandeur, which
occupied the precincts of our venerable Abbey from the
time of St. David, till her deserted halls were once more
made glad, and her long silent echoes awakened, by the
visit of our present gracious Sovereign.2
AIy long habitation in the neighbourhood, and the quiet
respectability of my habits, have given me a sort of intiinacy with good Mrs. Policy, the housekeeper in that most
interesting part of the old building, called Queen Mary's
Apartments.  But a circumstance which lately happened
has conferred upon me greater privileges; so that, indeed,
I might, I believe, venture on the exploit of Chatelet, who
was executed for being found secreted at midnight in the
very bedchamber of Scotland's Mistress.
It chanced, that the good lady I have mentioned, was,
in the discharge of her function, showing the apartments
to a cockney from London;-not one of your quiet, dull,
common-place visiters, who gape, yawn, and listen with
an acquiescent urmph, to the information doled out by the
provincial cicerone.  No such thing-this was tile brisk,
alert agent of a great house in the city, who missed no
opportunity of doing business, as he termed it, that is, of
putting off the goods of his employers, and improving his
own account of commission. He had fidgeted through
the suite of apartments, without finding the least opportunity to touch upon that which he considered as the principal end of his existence. Even the story of Rizzio's
assassination presented no ideas to this emissary of commerce, until the househeeper appealed, in support of her
narrative, to the dusky stains of blood upon the floor.
" These are the stains," she said; " nothing will remonve them from the place-there they have been for two
hundred and fifty years-and there they will remain while




SECOND SERIES.                   5
the floor is left standing —neither water nor anything else
will ever remove them from that spot."
Now, our cockney, amongst other articles, sold Scouring Drops, as they are called, and a stain of two hundred
and fifty years standing was interesting to him, not because
it had been caused by the blood of a Queen's favourite,
slain in her apartment, but because it offered so admirable
an opportunity to prove the efficacy of his unequalled
Detergent Elixir. Down on his knees went our friend,
out neither in horror nor devotion.
" Two hundred and fifty years, ma'am, and nothing
take it away? Why, if it had been five hundred, I have
something in my pocket will fetch it out in five minutes.
D'ye see this elixir, ma'am? I will show you the stain
vanish in a moment."
Accordingly, wetting one end of his handkerchief with
the all-deterging specific, he began to rub away on the
planks, without heeding the remonstrances of Mrs. Policy.
She, good soul, stood at first in astonishment, like the
Abbess of St. Bridget's, when a profane visitant drank up
the vial of brandy which had long passed muster among
the relics of the cloister for the tears of the blessed saint.
The venerable guardian of St. Bridget probably expected
the interference of her patroness-She of Holy Rood
might, perhaps, hope that David Rizzio's spectre would
arise to prevent the profanation.  But Mrs. Policy stood
not long in the silence of horror.  She uplifted her voice,
and screamed as loudly as Queen MJary herself, when
the dreadful deed was in the act of perpetration" Harrow now out! and walawa!" she cried.
I happened to be taking my morning walk in the adjoining gallery, pondering in my mind why the Kings of
Scotland, who hung around me, should be each and every
one painted with a nose like the knocker of a door, when
lo! the walls once more re-echoed with such shrieks, as
formerly were as often heard in the Scottish palaces as
were sounds of revelry and music.  Soimewhat surprised
VOL. I.




6       CH.RONICLTES OF. TI-IF  CANONGATE.
at such an alarm in a place so solitary, I hastened to the
spot, and found the well-meaning traveller scrubbing the
floor like a housemaid, while Mrs. Policy, dragging him by
the skirts of the coat, in vain endeavoured to divert hin
from his sacrilegious purpose.  It cost me some trouble
to explain to the zealous purifier of silk-stockings, embroidered waistcoats, broadcloth, and deal planks, that
there were such things in the world as stains which ought
to remain indelible, on account of the associations with
which they are connected. Our good friend viewed every
thing of the kind only as the means of displaying the virtue of his vaunted commodity. He comprehended, however, that he would not be permitted to proceed to exemplify its powers on the present occasion, as two or three
inhabitants appeared, who, like me, threatened to mainlain the housekeeper's side of the question. He therefore
took his leave, muttering that lie had always heard the
Scots were a nasty people, but had no idea they carried it
so far as to choose to have the floors of their palaces bloodboltered, like Banquo's ghost, when to remove them would
have cost but a hundred drops of the Infallible Detergent
Elixir, prepared and scld by Messrs. Scrub and Rub, in five
shilling and ten shilling bottles, each bottle being marked
with the initials of the inventor, to counterfeit which
would be to incur the pains of forgery.
Freed from the odious presence of this lover of cleanliness, my good friend MIrs. Policywas profuse in her expressions of thanks; and yet her gratitude, instead of
exhausting itself in these declarations, according to the
way of the world, continues as lively at this moment as
if she had never thanked me at all. It is owing to her
recollection of this piece of good service, that I have the
permissionl of wandering, like the ghost of soeine departed
gentleman-usher, through these deserted halls, sometimes,
as the old Irish ditty expresses it,
Thinking upon things that are long enough ago;
tnd sometimes wishing I could, with the good-luck of
most editors of romantic narrative, light upon some hidden crypt or massive antique cabinet, which should yield




SECOND SERIES.                   7
to my researches an almost illegible manuscript, containing the authentic particulars of some of the strange deeds
of those wild days of the unhappy Mary.
My dear Mrs. Baliol used to sympathize with me when
I regretted that all Godsends of this nature had ceased
to occur, and that an author might chatter his teeth to
pieces by the seaside, without a wave ever wafting to him
a casket containing such a history as that of Automathes;
that he might break his shins in stumbling through a hundred vaults, without finding anything but rats and mice,
and become the tenant of a dozen sets of shabby tenements, without seeing any manuscript but the weekly bill
for board and lodging. A dairy-maid of these degenerate
days might as well wash and deck her dairy in hopes of
finding the fairy tester in her shoe.
" It is a sad, and too true a tale, cousin," said Mrs.
Baliol.  " I am sure we all have occasion to regret the
want of these ready supplements to a failing invention.
But you, most of all, have right to complain that the fairies
have not favoured your researches-you,who have shown
the world that the Age of Chivalry still exists-you, the
Knight of Croftangry, who braved the fury of the' London'prentice bold,' in behalf of the fair DamePolicy, and
the memorial of Rizzio's slaughter. Is it not a pity,
cousin, considering the feat of chivalry was otherwise
so much according to rule-is it not, I say, a great pity
that the lady had not been a little younger, and the legend
a little older?"'  Why, as to the age at which a fair dame loses the
benefit of chivalry, and is no longer entitled to crave
boon of brave knight, that I leave to the statutes of the
Order of Errantry; but for the blood of Rizzio, I take
up the gauntlet, and maintain against all and sundry, that
I hold the stains to be of no modern date, but to have
been actually the consequence and the record of that
terrible assassination.y"
" As I cannot accept the challenge to the field, fair,ousin, I am contented to require proof."
"The unaltered tradition of the Palace, and the cerres
pondence of the existing state of things with that tradition.




8       CHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE.
"Explain, if you please."
" I will.-The universal tradition bears, that when
Rizzio was dragged out of the chamber of the Queen,
the heat and fury of the assassins, who struggled which
should deal him most wounds, despatched him at the door
of the anteroom. At the door of the apartment, therefore,
the greater quantity of the ill-fated mninion's blood was
spilled, and there the marks of it are still shown.  It is
reported further by historians, that Nlary continued her
entreaties for his life, mingling her prayers with screams
and exclamations, until she knew that he was assuredly
slain; on which she wiped her eyes and said,' I will now
study revenge.' "
"' All this is granted. —iut the blood? would it not
wash out, or waste out, think you, in so many years?"
" I am coming to that presently. The constant tradition of the Palace says, that Mary discharged any measures to be taken to remove the marks of slaughter, which
she had resolved should remain as a memorial to quicken
and confirm her purposed vengeance. But it is added,
that, satisfied with the knowledge that it existed, and not
desirous to have the ghastly evidence always under her
eye, she caused a traverse, as it is called, (that is, a temporary screen of boards,) to be drawn along the under
part of the anteroom, a few feet from the door, so as to
separate the place stained with the blood from the rest of
the apartment, and involve it in considerable obscurity.
Now this temporary partition still exists, and by running
across and interrupting the plan of the roof and cornices,
plainly intimates that it has been intended to serve some
temporary purpose, since it disfigures the proportions oi
the room, interferes with the ornaments of the ceiling,
and could only have been put there for some such purpose, as hiding an object too disagreeable to be looked
upon. As to the objection that the blood-stains would
have disappeared in course of time, I apprehend that if
measures to efface them  were not taken immediately
after the affair happened-if the blood, in other words,
were allowed to sink into the wood, the stain would be



SECOND SERIES.                   9
come almost indelible.  Now, not to mention that our
Scottish palaces were not particularly well washed in
those days, and that there were no Patent Drops to assist
the labours of the mop, I think it very probable that these
dark relies might subsist for a long course of time, even if
Mary had not desired or directed that they should be
preserved, but screened by the traverse from public sight.
I know several instances of similar blood-stains remaining
for a great many years, and I doubt whether, after a certain time, anything can remove them, save the carpenter's plane. If any Seneschal, by way of increasing the
interest of the apartments, had, by means of paint, or any
other mode of imitation, endeavoured to palm upon posterity supposititious stigmata, I conceive that the impostor
would have chosen the Queen's cabinet and the bedroom for the scene of his trick, placing his bloody tracery
where it could be distinctly seen by visiters, instead of
hiding it behind the traverse in this manner.  The existence of the said traverse, or temporary partition, is also
extremely difficult to be accounted for, if the common
and ordinary tradition be rejected.  In short, all the rest
of this striking locality is so true to the historical fact,
that I think it may well bear out the additional circumstance of the blood on the floor."
" I profess to you," answered Mrs. Baliol, G" that I
am very willing to be converted to your faith.  We talk
of a credulous vulgar, without always recollecting that
there is a vulgar incredulity, which, in historical matters,
as well as in those of religion, finds it easier to doubt than
to examine, and endeavours to assume the credit of an
esprit fort, by denying whatever happens to be a little
beyond the very limited comprehension of the sceptic.And so, that point being settled, and you possessing, as
we understand, the Open Sesamum  into these secret
apartments, how, if we may ask, do you intend to avail
yourself of your privilege?-Do you propose to pass the
night in the royal bedchamber?"
" For what purpose, my dear lady?-if to improve
the rheumatism, this east wind may serve the purpose."




I 0     CHIRONICLES OF THE CANONGAT~E.
cc Improve the rheumatism —Heaven forbid! that
would be worse than adding colours to the violet.  No,
I mean to recommend a night on the couch of the Rose
of Scotland, merely to improve the imagination. Who
knows what dreams might be produced by a night spent
in a mansion of so many memories! For aught I know,
the iron door of the postern stair might open at the dead
hour of midnight, and, as at the time of the conspiracy,
forth might sally the phantom assassins, with stealthy step
and ghastly look, to renew the semblance of the deed.
There comes the fierce fanatic Ruthven-party hatred
enlabling him to bear the armour which would otherwise
weigh down a form extenuated by wasting disease. See
how his writhen features show under the hollow helmet,
like those of a corpse tenanted by a demon, whose vindictive purpose looks out at the flashing eyes, while the
visage has the stillness of death.-Yonder appears the
tall form of the boy Darnley, as goodly in person as vacillating in resolution; yonder he advances with hesitating step, and yet more hesitating purpose, his childish
fear having already overcome his childish passion.  He
is in the plight of a mischievous lad who has fired a
mine, and who now, expecting the explosion in remorse
and terror, would give his life to quench the train which
his own hand lighted.-Yonder-yonder-But I forget
the rest of the worthy cut-throats.  Help me, if you can."
~" Summon up," said I, "; the Postulate, George Douglas, the most active of the gang. Let him arise at your
call-the claimant of wealth which he does not possessthe partaker of the illustrious blood of Douglas, but which
in his veins is sullied with illegitimacy. Paint him the
ruthless, the daring, the ambitious-so nigh greatness,
yet debarred from it-so near to wealth, yet excluded
from possessing it-a political Tantalus, ready to do or
qare anything to terminate his necessities and assert his
imperfect claims."'" Admirable, my dear Croftangy! But what is a Postulate?"




SECOND SERIES.                 11
Poo0011, my dear madam, you disturb the current of
my ideas-The Postulate was, in Scottish phrase, the
candidate for some benefice which he had not yet attained-George Douglas, who stabbed Rizzio, was the Postulate for the temporal possessions of the rich Abbey of
Arbroath."
" I stand informed-Come, proceed; who comes
next?" continued Mrs. Baliol.
"Who comes next? Yon tall, thin-made, savage-looking man, with the petronel in his hand, must be Andrew
Ker of Faldonside, a brother's son, I believe, of the celebrated Sir David Ker of Cessford; his look and bearing those of a Border freebooter; his disposition so
savage, that, during the fray in the cabinet, he presented
his loaded piece at the bosom of the young and beautiful
Queen, that Queen also being within a few weeks of becoming a mother."
"Brave, beau cousin! —Well, having raised your bevy
of phantoms, I hope you do not intend to send them back
to their cold beds to warm them? You will put them to
some action, and since you do threaten the Canongate
with your desperate quill, you surely mean to novelize, or
to dramatize if you will, this most singular of all tragedies?"
" Worse-that is less interesting-periods of history
have been, indeed, shown up, for furnishing amusement
to the peaceable ages which have succeeded; but, dear
lady, the events are too well known in Mary's days, to be
used as vehicles of romantic fiction. What can a better
writer than myself add to the elegant and forcible narrative of Robertson? So adieu to my vision-I awake, like
John Bunyan, and behold it is a dream. —Well, enough
that I awake without a sciatica, which would have probably rewarded my slumbers had I profaned Queen Mary's
bed, by using it as a mechanical resource to awaken a
torpid imagination."
"' This will never do, cousin," answered Mrs. Baliol:
" you must get over all these scruples, if you would thrive
n the character of a romantic historian, which you have




!2      PCIHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE.
determined to embrace.  What is the classic Robertson
to you?  The light which he carried was that of a lamp
to illuminate the dark events of antiquity; yours is a
magic lantern to raise up wonders which never existed.
No reader of sense wonders at your historical inaccuracies, any more than he does to see Punch in the showbox seated on the same throne with King Solomon in his
glory, or to hear him hollowing out to the patriarch, amid
the deluge,' Mighty hazy weather, Master Noah.'"
" Do not mistake me, my dear madam," said I; " I
am quite conscious of my own immunities as a tale-teller.
But even the mendacious Mr. Fagg, in Sheridan's Rivals,
assures us, that though hlie never scruples to tell a lie at his
master's command, yet it hurts his conscience to be found
out.  Now, this is the reason why I avoid in prudence all
wrell-known paths of history, where every one can read
the finger-posts carefully set up to advise them of the right
turr:ng; and the very boys and girls, who learn the history of Britain by way of question and answer, hoot at
a poor author if he abandnls the highway."
aL Do not be discouraged, nowever, Cousin Chrystal.
There are plenty of wildernesses in Scottish history,
through which, unless I am greatly misinformed, no certain paths have been laid down from actual stluvey, but
which are only described by imperfect tradition, which
fills up with wonders and with legends the periods in
which no real events are recognized to have taken place,
Even thus, as Mat Prior say —
Geographers on pathless downs,
Place elephants instead of towns.'"
" If such be your advice, my dear lady," sa;i I, " the
course of my story shall take its rise upon this occasion
at a remote period of history, and in a province removed
from my natural sphere of the Canongate."
It was under the influence of those feelings that I undertook the following Historical Romance, which, often
suspended and flung aside, is now arrived at a size too




SECOND SERIES.                13
mportant to be altogether thrown away, although there
inay be little prudence in sending it to the press.
I have not placed in the mouth of the characters the
Lowland Scotch dialect now spoken, because unquestionably the Scottish of that day resembled very closely the
Anglo-Saxon, with a sprinkling of French or Norman to
enrich it.  Those who wish to investigate the subject,
may consult the Chronicles of Winton, and the History
of Bruce, by Archdeacon Barbour. But supposing my
own skill in the ancient Scottish were sufficient to invest
the dialogue with its peculiarities, a translation must have
been necessary for the benefit of the general reader.
T'he Scottish dialect may be therefore considered as laid
aside, unless where the use of peculiar words may ada
emphasis or vivacity to the composition.
2   VoL 1.o








SAINT VALENTINE'S DAY;
OR,
THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH.
CHAPTER I.
"Behold the Tiber," the vain Roman cried,
Viewing the ample'ray from Baiglie's side;
But where's the Scot that would the vaunt repav,
And hail the puny Tiber for the Tay? 3
Anonymous.
AMONG all the provinces in Scotland, if an intelligent
stranger were asked to describe the most varied and the
most beautiful, it is probable he would name the county of
Perth. A native also of any other district of Caledonia,
though his partialities might lead him to prefer his native
county in the first instance, would certainly class that of
Perth in the second, and thus give its inhabitants a fair
right to plead that-prejudice apart-Perthshire forms the
fairest portion of the northern kingdom.  It is long since
Lady Mary Wortley Montague, with that excellent taste
which characterises her writings, expressed her opinion
that the most interesting district of every country, and that
which exhibits the varied beauties of natural scenery in
greatest perfection, is that where the mountains sink down
upon the champaign, or more level land. The most picturesque, i-f not the highest hills, are also to be found in the
county of Perth. The rivers find their way out of the
mountainous region by the wildest leaps, and through the
most romantic passes connecting the Highlands with the
Lowlands. Above,the vegetation of a happier elimate and




16            ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
soil, is mingled with the magnificent characteristics of
mountain-scenery, and woods, groves, and thickets in profusion, clothe the base of the hills, ascend up the ravines,
and mingle with the precipices.  It is in such favoured
regions that the traveller finds what the poet Gray, or
some one else, has termed, Beauty lying in the lap of
Terror.
From the same advantage of situation, this favoured
province presents a variety of the most pleasing character. Its lakes, woods, and mountains, may vie in beauty
with any that the Highland tour exhibits; while Perthshire contains, amidst this romantic scenery, and in some
places in connexion with it, many fertile and habitable
tracts, which may vie with the richness of merry England
herself. The country has also been the scene of many
Xremarkable exploits and events, some of historical importance, others interesting to the poet and romancer, though
recorded in popular tradition alone. It was in these vales
that the Saxons of the plain, and the Gael of the mountains, had many a desperate and bloody encounter, in
which it was frequently impossible to decide the palm of
victory between the mailed chivalry of the Low Country,
and the plaided clans whom they opposed.
Perth, so eminent for the beauty of its situation, is a
place of great antiquity; and old tradition assigns to the
town the importance of a Roman foundation. That victorious nation, it is said, pretended to recognize the Tiber
in the much more magnificent and navigable Tay, and to
acknowledge the large level space, well known by the
name of the North Inch, as having a near resemblance to
their Campus Martius. The city was often the residence
of our monarchs, who, although they had no palace at
Perth, found the Cistercian Convent amply sufficient for
the reception of their court. It was here that James the
First, one of the wisest and best of the Scottish kings,
fell a victim to the jealousy of the vengeful aristocracy.
Here also occurred the mysterious conspiracy of Gowrie,
the scene of which has only of late been effaced, by the
destruction of the ancient palace in which the tragedy was




S An. VAiENI'bT"N!SEl S IAY.        17
acted.  Tile Antiquarian Society of Perth, with just zeal
for the objects of ltheir pursuit, have published an accurate plan of this memorable mansion, with some remarks
upon its connexion with the narrative of the plot, which
display equal acuteness and candour.
One of the most beautiful points of view which Britain,
or perhaps the world, can afford, is, or rather we may say
was, the prospect from a spot called the Wicks of Baiglie,
being a species of niche at which the traveller arrived,
after a long stage from Kinross, through a waste and uninteresting country, and from which, as forming a pass
over the summitofa ridgy eminence which he had gradually surmounted, he beheld, stretching beneath him, the
valley of the Tay, traversed by its ample and lordly
stream; the town of Perth, with its two large meadows,
or Inches, its steeples, and its towers; the hills of Moncrieff and Kinnoul faintly rising into picturesque rocls,
partly clothedwith woods; the rich margin of the river,
studded with elegant mansions; and the distant view of
the huge Grampian mountains, the northern screen of
this exquisite landscape.  The alteration of the road,
greatly, it must be owned, to the improvement of general
intercourse, avoids this magnificent point of view, and the
landscape is introduced more gradually and partially to
the eye, though the approach must be still considered as
extremely beautiful.  There is still, we believe, a footpath left open, by which the station at the Wicks of Baiglie may be approached; and the traveller, by quitting his
horse or equipage, and walking a few hundred yards, may
still compare the real landscape with the sketch which we
have attempted to give.  But it is not in our power to
communicate, or in his to receive, the exquisite charm
which surprise gives to pleasure, when so splendid a view
arises when least expected or hoped for, and which
Chrystal Croftangry experienced when he beheld, for the
first time, the matchless scene.4
Childish wonder, indeed, was an ingredient in my delight, for I was not above fifteen years old; and as this
f  voiy. i.




18            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
had been the first excursion which I was permitted to
make on a pony of my own, I also experienced the glow
of independence, mingled with that degree of anxiety
vwhich the most conceited boy feels when he is first abandoned to his own undirected counsels.  I recollect pulling up the reins without meaning to do so, and gazing on
the scene before me as if I had been afiraid it would shift
like those in a theatre before I could distinctly observe its
different parts, or convince myself that what I saw was
real.  Since that hour, and the period is now more than
fifty years past, the recollection of that inimitable landscape has possessed the strongest influence over my mind,
and retained its place as a memorable thing, when much
that was influential on my own fortunes has fled from my
recollection. It is therefore natural, that, whilst deliberating on what might be brought forward for the amusement of the public, I should pitch upon some narrative
connected with the splendid scenery which made so much
impression on my youthful imagination, and which may
perhaps have that effect in setting off the imperfections
of the composition, which ladies suppose a fine set of
china to possess in heightening the flavour of indifferent
teal.5
The period at which I propose to commence, is, however, considerably earlier than either of the remarkable
historical transactions to which I have already alluded, as
the events which I am about to recount occurred during
the last years of the fourteenth century, when the Scottish sceptre was swayed by the gentle, but feeble hand of
John, who, on being called to the throne, assumed the
title of Robert the Third.
CHAPTER  II.
A country lip Inay have the velvet touch 3
Though she's no lady, shte may please as ltuch.
DlR'YDEN.
PER}rI, boasting, as we  have a  lready mentioned, so
large a portion of the ieauties cf ilnan'intte noaltulre, hlas




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               19
at no time been without its own share of those charms
which are at once more interesting and more transient.
To be called the Fair Maid of Perth, would at any period have been a high distinction, and have inferred no
mean superiority in beauty, where there were many to
claim  that much-envied attribute.  But, in the feudal
times, to which we now call the reader's attention, female
beauty was a quality of much higher importance than it
has been since the ideas of chivalry have been in a great
measure extinguished.  The love of the ancient cavaliers
was a licensed species of idolatry, which the love of
Heaven alone was theoretically supposed to approach in
intensity, and which in practice it seldom equalled. God
and the Ladies were familiarly appealed to in the same
breath; and devotion to the fair sex was as peremptorily
enjoined upon the aspirant to the honour of chivalry, as
that which was due to Heaven. At such a period in society, the power of beauty was almost unlimited.  It
could level the highest rank with that which was immeasurably inferior.
It was but in the reign preceding that of Robert III.,
that beauty alone had elevated a person of inferior rank
and indifferent morals to share the Scottish throne;6 and
many women, less artful or less fortunate, had risen to
greatness from a state of concubinage, for which the
manners of the times made allowance and apology. Such
views might have dazzled a girl of higher birth than
Catharine, or Katie Glover, who was universally acknowledged to be the most beautiful young woman of the city
or its vicinity, and whose renown, as the Fair Maid of
Perth, had drawn on her much notice from the young
gallants of the Royal Court, when it chanced to be residing in or near Perth; insomuch, that more than one nobleman of the highest rank, and most distinguished for
deeds of chivalry, were more attentive to exhibit feats of
horsemanship as they passed the door of old Simon
Glover, in what was called Couvrefew, or Curfew Street,
than to distinguish themselves in the tournaments, where
the noblest dames of Scotland were spectators of their
address.




20            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
But the Glover's daughter-for, as was comreon with
citizens and artizans of that early period, her fither, Simon, derived his surname from the trade which he practised,-showed no inclination to listen to any gallantry
which came from those of a station highly exalted above
that which she herself occupied; and though probably in
no degree insensible to her personal charms, seemed desirous to confine her conquests to those who were within
her own sphere of life.  Indeed, her beauty being of
that kind which we connect more with the mind than with
the person, was, notwithstanding her natural kindness and
gentleness of disposition, rather allied to reserve than to
gaiety, even when in company with her equals; and the
earnestness with which she attended upon the exercises
of devotion, induced many to think that Catharine Glover
nourished the private wish to retire from the world, and
bury herself in the recesses of the cloister. But to such
a sacrifice, should it be meditated, it was not to be expected her father, reputed a wealthy man, and having this
only child, would yield a willing consent.
In her resolution of avoiding the addresses of the gallant courtiers, the reigning Beauty of Perth was confirmed by the sentiments of her parent.  " Let them go," he
said;'" let them go, Catharine, those gallants, with their
capering horses, their jingling spurs, their plumed bonnets,
and their trim mustaches; they are not of our class, nor
will we aim at pairing with them.  To-morrow is Saint
Valentine's Day, when every bird chooses her mate; but
you will not see the linnet pair with the sparrow-hawk,
nor the robin red-breast with the kite. My father was an
honest burgher of Perth, and could use his needle as well
as I can.  Did there come war to the gates of our fair
burgh, down went needles, thread, and shamoy leather,
and out came the good head-piece and target from the
dark nook, and the long lance from above the chimney
Show me a day that either he or I were absent when the
Provost made his musters! Thus we have led our lives
my girl, working to win our bread, and fighting to defend:t. I will have no son-in-law that thinks himself better




ST. VALENTINEIS S DAY.            21
than me; and for these lords and knights, I trust thou
wilt always remember thou art too low to be their lawful
love, and too high to be their unlawful loon.  And now
lay by thy work, lass, for it is holytide eve, and it becomes
us to go to the evening service, and pray that Heaven may
send thee a good Valentine to-morrow."
So the Fair Maid of Perth laid aside the splendid
hawking glove which she was embroidering for the Lady
Drummond, and putting on her holiday kirtle, prepared
to attend her father to the Blackfriars Monastery, which
was adjacent to Couvrefew Street in which they lived.
On their passage, Simon Glover, an ancient and esteemed
burgess of Perth, somewhat stricken in years and increased in substance, received from young and old the homage
due to his velvet jerkin and his gold chain, while the
well-known beauty of Catharine, though concealed beneath her screen-which resembled the mantilla still
worn in Flanders-called both obeisances and doffings
of the bonnet from young and old.
As the pair moved on arm in arm, they were followed
by a tall handsome young man, dressed in a yeoman's
habit of the plainest kind, but which showed to advantage
his fine limbs, as the handsome countenance that looked
out firom a quantity of curled tresses, surmounted by a
small scarlet bonnet, became that species of head-dress.
He had no other weapon than a staff in his hand, it not
being thought fit that persons of his degree, (for he was
an apprentice to the old Glover,) should appear on the
street armed with sword or dagger, a privilege which the
jackmen, or military retainers of the nobility, esteemed
exclusively their own. He attended his master at holytide, partly in the character of a domestic, or guardian,
should there be cause for his interference; but it was not
difficult to discern, by the earnest attention which hepaid
to Catharine Glover, that it was to her, rather than to her
father, that he desired to dedicate his good offices, Generally speaking, there was no opportunity for his zeal displaying itself; for a common feeling of respect induced
passengers to give way to the father and daughter.




22            ST. VALENTINE IS DAY.
But when the steel caps, barrets, and plumes, of squires,
archers, and men-at-arms, began to be seen among the
throng, the wearers of these warlike distinctions were
more rude in their demeanour than the quiet citizens.
More than once, when from chance, or perhaps from an
assumption of superior importance, such an individual
took the wall of Simon in passing, the Glover's youthful
attendant bristled up with a look of defiance, and the air
of one who sought to distinguish his zeal in his mistress's
service by its ardour. As frequently did Conachar, for
such was the lad's name, receive a check fiom his master, who gave him to understand that he did not wish his
interference before he required it.  " Foolish boy," he
said, " hast thou not lived long enough in my shop to
know that a blow will breed a brawl-that a dirk will cut
the skin as fast as a needle, pierces leather-that I love
peace, though I never feared war, and care not which side
of the causeway my daughter and I walk upon, so we
may keep our road in peace and quietness?" —Conachar
excused himself as zealous for his master's honour, yet
was scarce able to pacify the old citizen. —" What have
we to do with honour?" said Simon Glover. " If thou
wouldst remain in my service, thou must think of honesty,
and leave honour to the swaggering fools who wear steel
at their heels and iron on their shoulders.  If you wish
to wear and use such garniture, you are welcome, but it
shall not be in my house or in my company."
Conachar seemed rather. to kindle at this rebuke than
to submit to it.  But a sign from Catharine, if that slight
raising of her little finger was indeed a sign, had more
effect than the angry reproof of his master; and the youth
laid aside the military air which seemed natural to him,
and relapsed into the humble follower of a quiet burgher.
Mleantime the little party were overtaken by a tall
young man wrapped in a cloak, which obscured or muffled a part of his face, a practice often used by the gallants of the time, when they did not wish to be known, or
were abroad in quest of adventures.  He seemed, in
short, one who might say to the world around him, " 




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.              23
desire, for the present, not to be known, or addressed in
my own character; but, as I am answerable to myself
alone for my actions, I wear my incognito but for form's
sake, and care little whether you see through it or not."
He came on the right side of Catharine, who had hold
of her father's arm, and slackened his pace as if joining
their party.
" Good even to you, goodman."
"The same to your worship, and thanks.-May I pray
yoll to pass on?-our pace is too slow for" that of your
lordship-our company too mean for that of your father's
son."
" My father's son can best judge of that, old man. I
have business to talk of with you and with my fair St.
Catharine here, the loveliest and most obdurate saint in
the calendar."
"  With deep reverence, my lord," said the old man,
" I would remind you that this is good St. Valentine's
Eve, which is no time for business, and that I can have
your worshipful commands by a serving-man as early
as it pleases you to send them."
"' There is no time like the present," said the persevering youth, whose rank seemed to be of a kind which
set him above ceremony.  "' I wish to know whether th'e
buff doublet be finished which I commissioned some time
since;-and from  you, pretty Catharine, (here lie sank
his voice to a whisper,) I desire to be informed whether
your fair fingers have been employed upon it, agreeably
to your promise? But I need not ask you, for my poor
heart has felt the pang of each puncture that pierced the
garment which was to cover it. Traitress, how wilt thou
answer for thus tormenting the heart that loves thee so
dearly!"
(' Let me entreat you, my lord," said Catharine, " to
forego this wild talk-it becomes not you to speak thus,
or me to listen.  We are of poor rank, but honest miantners; and the presence of the father ought to protect the
child fiom such expressions, even from your lordship "




24            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
This she spoke so low, that neither her father nor Conachar could understand what she said.
" Well, tyrant," answered the persevering gallant, " 1
will plague you no longer now, providing you will let me
see you from your window to-morrow, when the sun first
peeps over the eastern hill, and give me right to be your
Valentine for the year."
" Not so, my lord; my father but now  told me that
hawks, far less eagles, pair not with the humble linnet.
Seek some court lady, to whom your favours will be
honour; to me-your highness must permit me to speak
the plain truth —they can be nothing but disgrace."
As they spoke thus, the party arrived at the gate of the
church.  " Your lordship will, I trust, permit us here to
take leave of you?" said her father.  " I am well aware
how little you will alter your pleasure for the pain and
uneasiness you may give to such as IS; but from  the
throng of attendants at the gate, your lordship nmay see
that there are others in the church, to whom even your
gracious lordship must pay respect."'~ Yes-respect; and who pays any respect to me?"
said thle haughty young lord.  " A miserable artizan and
h[is daughter, too much honoured by my slightest notice,
have the insolence to tell me that my notice dishonours
them.  WVell, my princess of white doe-skin and blue
silk, I will teach you to rue this."
As he murmured thus, the Glover and his daughter entered the Domrinican Church, and their attendant, Conachar, in attempting to follow them closely, jostled, it may
be not unwillingly, the young nobleman. Tile gallant,
starting from his unpleasing reverie, and perhaps considering this as an intentional insult, seized on the young
man by the breast, struck him, and threw him from him.
His irritated opponent recovered himself with d;fficulty,
and grasped towards his own side, as if seeking a sword
or dagger in the place where it was usually worn; but
finding none, he made a gesture of disappointed rage,
and entered the church.  During the few seconds ho remnained, the young nobleman stood with his arms folded




ST. VALENTINE S DAY,               25
on his breast, with a haughty smile, as if defying hirn t
do his worst.  When Conachar had entered the church,
his opponent, adjusting his cloak yet closer about his face,
made a private signal by holding up one of his gloves.
He was instantly joined by two men, who, disguised like
himself, had waited his motions at a little distance. They
spoke together earnestly, after which the young nobleman
retired in one direction, his friends or followers going off
in another.
Simon Glover, before he entered the church, cast a
ook towards the group, but had taken his place among
the congregation before they separated themselves. He
knelt down with the air of a man who has something burdensome on his mind; but when the service was ended,
he seemed free from anxiety, as onrs who had referred
himself and his troubles to the disposal of Heaven.  The
ceremony of High Mass was performed with considerable
solemnity, a number of noblemen and ladies of rank being present. Preparations had indeed been made for the
reception of the good old King himself, but some of those
infirmities to which he was subject had prevented Robert
III. from attending the service, as was his wont.  When
the congregation were dismissed, the Glover and his beautiful daughter lingered for some time, for the purpose of
making their several shrifts in the confessionals, where
the priests had taken their places for discharging that part
of their duty.  Thus it happened that the night had fall
en dark, and the way was solitary, when they returned
along the now deserted streets to their own dwelling.
Most persons had betaken themselves to home and to bed.
They who still lingered in the streets were night-walkers
or revellers, the idle and swaggering retainers of the
haughty nobles, who were much wont to insult the peaceful passengers, relying on the impunity which their masters' court favour was too apt to secure them.
It was, perhaps, in apprehension of mischief from some
character of this kind, that Conachar, stepping up to the
Glover, said, " Master, walk faster-we are dogg'd."
3 VOL -




26            ST. VALENTINE >S DAY.
s' Dogg'd, sayest thou? By whom and by how many'I
" By one man muffled in his cloak, who follows us
like our shadow."
" Then will I never mend my pace along the Couvre
few Street, for the best one man that ever trode it."
"4 But he has arms," said Conachar.
" And so have we, and hands and legs and feet. Why
sure, Conachar, you are not afraid of one man?'9
" Afraid!"' answered Conachar, indignant at the insinuation; " you shall soon know if I am afraid."'" Now you are as far on the other side of the mark,
thou foolish boy-thy temper has no middle course;
there is no occasion to make a brawl, though we do not
run.  Walk thou before with Catharine, and I will take
thy place. We cannot be exposed to danger so near
home as we are."
The Glover fell behind accordingly, and certainly observed a person keep so close to them, as, the time and
place considered, justified some suspicion. When they
crossed the street, he also crossed it, and when they advanced or slackened their pace, the stranger's was in proportion accelerated or diminished. The matter would
have been of very little consequence had Simon Glover
been alone; but the beauty of his daughter might render
her the object of some profligate scheme in a t ountry
where the laws afforded such slight protection to those
who had not the means to defend themselves. Conachar
and his fair charge having arrived on the threshold of
their own apartment, which was opened to them by an
old female servant, the burgher's uneasiness was ended.
Determined, however, to ascertain, if possible, whether
there had been any cause for it, he called out to the man
whose motions had occasioned the alarm, and who stood
still, though he seemed to keep out of reach of the light
"Come, step forward, my friend, and do not play at bopeep; knowest thou not, that they who walk like phantoms in the dark, are apt to encounter the conjuration of
a quarter-staff?  Step forward, I say, and show us thy
shapes, man."




ST. VALENTINEIS DAY.              27
Why, so I can, Master Glover," said one of the
deepest voices that ever answered question.'" I can
show my shapes well enough, only I wish they could bear
the light something better."
"' Body of me," exclaimed Simon, 1 "I should knou
that voice!-And is it thou, in thy bodily person, Harry
Gow?-nay, beshrew me if thou passest this door with
dry lips.  What, man, curfew has not rung yet, and if it
had, it were no reason why it should part father and son.
Come in, man; Dorothy slhT1l get us something to eat,
and we will jingle a can ere thou leave us.  Come in, I
say; my daughter Kate will be right glad to see thee."
By this time he had pulled the person, whom he welcomed so cordially, into a sort of kitchen, which served
also upon ordinary occasions the office of parlour. Its
ornaments were trenchers of pewter, mixed with a silver
cup or two, which, in the highest degree of cleanliness,
occupied  a range of shelves like those of a beauffet,
popularly called the Bink.  A good fire, with the assistance of a blazing lamp, spread light and cheerfulness
through the apartment, and a savoury smell of some victuals which Dorothy was preparing, did not at all offend
the unrefined noses of those whose appetite they were destined to satisfy.
Their unknown attendant now stood in full light among
them, and though his appearance was neither dignified nor
handsome, his face and figure were not only deserving of
attention, but seemed in some manner to command it.
HIe was rather below the middle stature, but the breadth
of his shoulders, length and brawniness of his arms, and
the muscular appearance of the whole man, argued a
most unusual share of strength, and a frame kept in vigour by constant exercise. His legs were somewhat bent,
but not in a manner which could be said to approach to
deformity; on the contrary, which seemed to correspond
to the strength of his frame, though it injured in some
degree its symmetry.  His dress was of buff-hide; and
lie wore in a belt around his waist a heavy broadsword,
and a dirk or poniard, as if to defend his purse, which




28            ST. VALENTIN_ E'S DAY.
(burgher-fashion) was attached to the same cinctur
The head was well proportioned, round, close cropped
and curled thickly with black hair.  There was daring
and resolution in the dark eye, but the other features
seemed to express a bashful timidity, mingled with good
humour, and obvious satisfaction at meeting with his old
friends. Abstracted from the bashful expression, which
was that of the moment, the forehead. of Henry Gow, or
Smith, (for he was indifferently so called, Gow being
Gaelic for Smith) was hib   and noble, but the lower
part of the face less happily formed.  The mouth
]was large, and well-furnished with a set of firm  and
beautiful teeth, the appearance of which corresponded with the air of personal health and muscular strength,
which the whole frame indicated.  A short thick beard,
and mustaches which had lately been arranged with some
care, completed the picture.  His age could not exceed
eight-and-twenty.
The family appeared all well pleased with the unexpected appearance of an old friend.  Simon Glover shook
his hand again and again, Dorothy made her compliments,
and Catharine herself offered freely her hand, which
Henry held in his massive grasp as if he designed to
carry it to his lips, but, after a moment's hesitation, desisted, from fear lest the freedom might be ill taken. Not
that there was any resistance on the part of the little hand
which lay passive in his grasp; but there was a smile
mingled with the blush on her cheek, which seemed to
increase the confusion of the gallant.  Her father, on
his part, called out frankly, as he saw his friend's hesitation," Her lips, man, her lips! and that's a proffer I would
not make to every one who crosses my threshold.  But,
ny good St. Valentine, (whose holiday will dawn to-morrow,) I am so glad to see thee in the bonny city of Perth
again, that it would be hard to tell the thing I could refuse
ihee."
The Smith,-for, as has been said, such was the craft
of this sturdy artizan, —was encouraged modestly to sao




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.              29
lute the Fair Maid, who yielded the courtesy with a smile
of afeection that might have become a sister, saying, at
the same time,' Let me hope that I welcome back to
Perth a repentant and amended man."
He hleld her hand as if about to answer, then suddenly,
as one who lost courage at the moment, relinquished his
grasp; and drawing back as if afraid of what he had done,
his dark countenance glowing with bashfulness, mixed
with delight, he sat down by the fire on the opposite side
from that which Catharine occupied.
" Come, Dorothy, speed thee with the food, old woman;-and Conachar-where is Conachar?"
" He is gone to bed, sir, with a headach," said Catharile, in a hesitating voice.'" Go, call him, Dorothy," said the old Glover;    I
will not be used thus by him; his Highland blood, forsooth, is too gentle to lay a trencher or spread a napkin,
and he expects to enter our ancient and lhonourable craft
without duly waiting and tending upon his master and
teacher in all matters of lawful obedience. Go, call him,
I say; I will not be thus neglected."'
Dorothy was presently heard screaming up stairs, or
more probably up a ladder, to the cock-loft, to which the
recusant apprentice had made an untimely retreat; a
muttered answer was returned, and soon after Conachar
appeared in the eating apartment.  There was a gloom
of deep sullenness on his haughty, though handsome
features, and as he proceeded to spread the board, and
arrange the trenchers, with salt, spices, and other condiments-to discharge, in short, the duties of a modern
domestic, which the custom of the time imposed upon all
apprentices-he was obviously disgusted and indignant
with the mean office imposed upon hin.  The Fair Maid
of Perth looked with some anxiety at him, as if apprehensive that his evident sullenness might increase her
father's displeasure; but it was not till her eyes had
sought out his for a second time, that Conachar condescended to veil his dissatisfaction, and throw a greater
3*  VOL. I.




30             ST. VALENTTINE S DAY.
appearance of willingness and submission into the services
which lie was performing.
And here we must acquaint our reader, that though the
private interchange of looks betwixt Catharine Glover
and the young mountaineer indicated some interest on. the
part of the former in the conduct of the latter, it would
have puzzled the strictest observer to discover whether
that feeling exceeded in degree what might have been
felt by a young person towards a friend and inmate of
the same age, with whom she had lived on habits of intimacy.
6 Thou hast had a long journey, son Henry," said
Glover, who had always used that affectionate style of
speech, though noways akin to the young artizan;'6 ay,
and hast seen many a river besides Tay, and many a fair
bigging besides St. Johnston."
" But none that I like half so well, and none that are
half so much worth my liking," answered the Smith;'; I
promise you, father, that when I crossed the Wicks of
Baiglie, and: saw the bonny city lie stretched fairly before
me like a Fairy Queen in romance, whom the Knight
finds asleep among a wilderness of flowers, I felt even as
a bird when it folds its wearied wings to stoop down on
its own nest."
~ Ala! so thou canst play the  Iaker* yet?" said the
Glover.  " What, shall we have our ballets, and our
roundels again? our lusty carols for Christmas, and our
mirthful springs to trip it round the May-pole?"
"~ Such toys there may be forthcoming, father," said
tIenry Smith,;' though the blast of the bellows and the
clatter of the anvil make but coarse company to lays of
minstrelsy; but I can afford them no better, since I must
mend my fortune, though I mar my verses."
"Right again-my own son just," answered the Glover,'" and I trust thou hast made a saving voyage of it?"
" Nay, I made a thriving one, father-I sold the steel
habergeon that you wot of for four hundred marks, to the
* Old Scottish for Poet, and indeed the literal translation of the original
Greek, nIl0r7T;.




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.              31
English Warden of tile East Marches, Sir Magnus Redman.7 He scarce scrupled a penny after I gave him leave
to try a sword-dint upon it.  The beggarly Highland thief
who bespoke it boggled at half the sum, though it had
cost me a year's labour."
" What dost thou start at, Conachar?" said Simon, addressing himself, by way of parenthesis, to the mountain
disciple; " wilt thou never learn to mind thy own business,,without listening to what is passing round thee?
What is it to thee that an Englishman thinks that cheap
which a Scottishman may hold dear?"
Conachar turned round to speak, but, after a moment's
consideration, looked down, and endeavoured to recover
his composure, which had been deranged by the contemptuous manner in which the Smith had spoken of. his
Highland customer.  Henry went on without paying any
attention to him.
I' 1 sold at high prices some swords and whingers when
I was at Edinburgh.  They expect war there; and if it
please God to send it, my merchandize will be worth its
price.  St. Dunstan make us tllankfil, for he was of our
craft.  In short, this fellow (laying his hand on his purse)
who, thou knowest, father, was somewhat lankl and low in
condition when I set out four months since, is now as
round and full as a six-weeks' porker."
"' And that other leathern-sheathed iron-hilted fellow
who hangs beside him," said the Glover, " has lie been
idle all this while?-Come, jolly Smith, confess tile truth
-how many brawls hast thou had since crossing the
Tay?"
66 Nay, now you do me wrong, father, to ask me such
a question, (glancing a look at Catharine,) in such a presence,"  answered tile armourer;' I make swords, indeed,
but I leave it to other people to use them.  No, no-seldom  have I a naked sword in my fist, save when I am
turning them on the anvil or grindstone; and they slandered me to your daughter Catharine, that led her to
suspect the quietest burgess in Perth of being a brawler.
f wish the best of them would dare say such a word at




32            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
the Hill of Kinnoul, and never a man on tile green )ut
hle and I.'
" Ay, ay," said the Glover, laughing, "1 we should then
have a fine sample of your patient sufferance-Out upon
you, Henry, that you xwill speak so like a knave to one
who knows thee so well! You look at Kate, too, as if she
did not know that a man in this country must make his
hand keep his head, unless he will sleep in slender security.  Come, come; beshrew me if thou hast not spoiled
as many suits of armour as thou hast made."
" Whly, lie would be a bad armourer, father Simon, that
could not with his own blow make proof of his own workmanship.  If I did not sometimes cleave a helmet, or
strike a sword's point through a harness, I should not know
whalt strength of fabric to give them; and might jingle
together such pasteboard work as yonder Edinburgh
smiths think not shame to put out of their hands."
" All —now would I lay a gold crown thou hast had
a quarrel with some Edinburgh Burn-the-wind upon that
very ground?",8
"' A quarrel!-no, father," replied the Perth armourer,
"' but a measuring of swords with such a one upon St.
Leonard's Crags, for the honour of my bonny city, I confess. Surely you do not think I would quarrel with a
brother craftsman?"' Alh, to a surety, no.  But how did your brother
craftsman come off?"
W" Why, as one with a sheet of paper on his bosom
milght come off from the stroke of a lance-or rather,
indeed, he came not off at all; for, when I left him, he
was lying in the Hermit's Ilodge daily expecting death,
for which Father Gervis said lhe was in heavenly preparation."
W" Well -any more measuring of weapons?" said the
Glover.
" Why, truly, I fought an Englishman at Berwick b)esides, on the old question of the Supremacy, as they cal
t —I am sure you would not have me slack at that debate
-and I had the lutck to hurt him on the left knee."




ST. VALENTINE 5S DAY.              3
" Well done for St. Andrew!-to it again.-Whom
next had you to deal with?" said Simon, laughing at the
exploits of his pacific friend.
6' I fiugE.t a Scotsman in the Torwood," answered
Henry Smith, "' upon a doubt which was the better swordsman, which, you are aware, could not be known or decided without a trial.  The poor fellow lost two fingers."
cc Pretty well for the most peaceful lad in Perth, who
never touches a sword but in the way of his profession.Well, anything more to tell us?"
"' Little-for the drubbing of a Highlandman is a thing
not worth mentioning.'":" For what didst thou drub him, 0 man of peace?"
Inquired the Glover.
"For nothing that I can remember," replied the Smith,
" except his presenting himself on the south side of Stirling bridge."
" Well, here is to thee, and thou art welcome to me
after all these exploits.-Conachar, bestir thee.  Let the
cans clink, lad, and thou shalt have a cup of the nutbrown for thyself, my boy."
Conachar poured out the good liquor for his master
and for Catharine, with due observance. But that done,
he set the flagon on the table, and sat down.
" How now, sirrah!-be these your manners? Fill to
my guest, the worshipful Master Henry Smith."
"' Master Smith may fill for himself, if he wishes for
liquor," answered the youthful Celt.  " The son of my
father has demeaned himself enough already for one
evening."
" That's well crowed for a cockeril," said Henry;
" but thou art so far right, my lad, that the man deserves
to die of thirst who will not drink without a cup-bearer."
But his entertainer took not the contumacy of the
young apprentice with so much patience.-" Now, by my
hlonest word, and by the best glove I ever made," said
Simon, " thou shalt help him with liquor from that cup
and flagon, if thee and I are to abide under one roof."




34            ST. VAI NTINE IS DAY.
Conachar arose sullenly upon hearing this threat, and,
approaching the Smith, wlho had just taken the tankard in
his hand, and was raising it to his head, he contrived to
stumble against him and jostle him so awkwardly, that the
foaming ale gushed over his face, person, and dress.
Good-natured as the Smith, in spite of his warlike propensities, really was in the utmost degree, his patience
failed under such a provocation.  He seized the young
man's throat, being the part which came readiest to his
grasp, as Conachar arose from the pretended stumble, and
pressing it severely as he cast the lad from him, exclaimed, "' Had this been in another place, young gallows-bird,
I had stowed the lugs out of thy head, as I have done to
some of thy clan before thee."
Conachar recovered his feet with the activity of a tiger,
and exclaiming, " Never shall you live to make that boast
again!9" drew a short sharp knife from his bosom, and
springing on Henry Smith, attempted to plunge it into his
body over the collar-bone, which must have been a mortal wound.  But the object of this violence was so ready
to defend himself by striking up the assailant's hand, that
the blow only glanced on the bone, and scarce drew
blood.  To wrench tile dagger fiom the boy's hand, and
to secure him with a grasp like that of his own iron vice,
wvas, for the powerful Smith, the work of a single mnoment.  Conachar felt himself at once in the absolute power of the formidable antagonist whom he had provoked;
lie became deadly pale, as he had been the moment before glowing red, and stood mute with shame and fear,
until, relieving him from  his powerful hold, the Smith
quietly said, " It is well for thee that thou callst not make
me angry-thou art but a boy, and I, a grown man, ought
not to have provoked thee.  But let this be a warning.'
Conachar stood an instant as if about to reply, and then
jeft tie room, ere Simon had collected himself enough to
speak.  Dorothy was running hither and thither for salvce;
and healing herbs.  Catharine hbad swooned at the sight
of. the trickling blood.




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               35
5 Let me depart, father Simon," said Henry Smith,
mournfully; "' I might have guessed I should have my
old luck, and spread strife and bloodshed where I would
wish most to bring peace and happiness.  Care not for
me-look to poor Catharine; the fright of such an affray
lhath killed her, and all through my fault."
"c Thy fault, my son!-It was the fault of yon Highland
cateran,9whom it is my curse to be cumbered with; but
he shall go back to his glens to-morrow, or taste the tolbooth of the burgh.  An assault upon the life of his master's guest in his master's house!-It breaks all bonds
between us. But let me see to thy wound."'6 Catharine!"  repeated the armourer, "look to
Catharine."
" Dorothy will see to her," said Simon; " surprise
and fear kill not-skenes and dirks do. And she is not
more the daughter of my blood than thou, my dear Henry,
art tile son of my affections.  Let me see the wound.
The skene-occlel~ isan ugly weapon in a Highland hand."
" I mind it no more than the scratch of a wild-cat,"
said the armourer; " and now that the colour is coming
to Catharine's cheek again, you shall see me a sound man
in a moment."   He turned to a corner in which hung a
small mirror, and hastily took from his purse some dry
lint, to apply to the slight wound he had received. As
he unloosed the leathern jacket from his neck and shoulders, the manly and muscular form which they displayed,
was not more remarkable than the fairness of his skin,
where it had not, as in hands and face, been exposed to
the effects of rough weather, and of his laborious trade.
He hastily applied some lint to stop the bleeding, and a
little water having removed all other marks of the fray,
he buttoned his doublet anew, and turned again to the
table where Catharine, still pale and trembling, was, however, recovered from her fainting fit.' Would you but grant me your forgiveness for having
offended you in the very first hour of my return?  The
lad was foolish to provoke me, and yet I was more foolish




.36.ST. VALENTINE S DXAY.
to be provoked by such as he.  Your father blames me
not, Catharine, and cannot you forgive me?"
6 I have no power to forgive," answered Catharine,
" what I have no title to resent.  If my father chooses
to have his house made the scene of night brawls, I must
witness them-I cannot help myself.  Perhaps it was
wrong in me to faint and interrupt, it may be, the farther
progress of a fair fray.   My apology is, that I cannot
bear the sight of blood."
" And is this the manner," said her father, " in which
you receive my friend after his long absence? iMy friend,
did I say? nay, my son.  I-e escapes being murdered
by a fellow whom I will to-morrow clear this house of,
and you treat him as if he had done wrong in dashing
from him the snake which was about to sting him!"
" It is not my part, father," returned the iMaid of Perth,
" to decide who had the right or wrong in the present
brawl; nor did I see what happened distinctly enough, to
say which was assailant, or which defender.  But sur6
our friend, Master Henry, will not deny that he lives in a
perfect atmosphere of strife, blood, and quarrels.  He
hears of no swordsman but he envies his reputation, and
must needs put his valour to the proof.  He sees no brawl
but he must strike into the midst of it.  Has he friends,
he fights with them for love and honour —has he enemies,
le fights with them  for hatred and revenge.  And those
men who are neither his friends nor foes, lie fights with
them  because they are on this or that side of a river.
His days are days of battle, and doubtless he acts them
over again in his dreams."
"' Daughter," said Simon, " your tongue wags too freely. Quarrels and fights are men's business, not women's,
and it is not maidenly to think or speak of them."
" But if they are so rudely enacted in our presence,"
said Catharine, " it is a little hard to expect us to think
or speak of anything else.  I will grant you, my father.
that this valiant burgess of Pertll is one of the best-hearted men that draws breath within its walls-that he would
walk a hundred yards out of the way rather than step




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              37
upon a worm —that he would be as loath, in wantonness,
to kill a spider, as if he were a kinsman to King Robert,
of happy memory'l that in the last quarrel betbre his departure he fought with four butchers, to prevent their
killing a poor mastiff that had misbehaved in the bullring, and narrowly escaped the fate of the cur that he was
protecting.  I will grant you also, that the poor never pass
the house of the wealthy armourer but they are relieved
with food and alms.  But what avails all this, when His
sword makes as many starving orphans and mourning
widows as his purse relieves?"
" Nay, but Catharine, hear me but a word before going
on with a string of reproaches against my friend, that
sound something like sense, while they are, in truth, inconsistent with all we hear and see around us. What,"
continued the Glover, c" do our King and our court, our
knights and ladies, our abbots, monks, and priests themselves, so earnestly crowd to see? Is it not to behold the
display of chivalry, to witness the gallant actions of brave
knights in the tilt and tourney-ground, to look upon deeds
of honour and glory achieved by arms and bloodshed?
What is it these proud knights do, that differs from what our
good Henry Gow works out in his sphere? Who ever heard
of his abusing his skill and strength to do evil or forward oppression, and who knows not how often it has been employed as that of a champion in the good cause of the burgh?
And shouldst not thou, of all women, deem thyself honoured and glorious, that so true a heart and so strong an arm has
termed himself thy bachelor? In what do the proudest
dames take their loftiest pride, save in the chivalry of
their knight; and has the boldest in Scotland done more
gallant deeds than my brave son Henry, though but oi
low degree? Is he not known to Highland and Lowland
as the best armourer that ever made sword, and the truest
oldier that ever drew one?"
" My dearest father," answered Catharine, " your
words contradict themselves, if you will permit your child
o say so. Let us thank God and the good saints, that
4 VOL. 1.




38            ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
we are in a peaceful rank of life, below the notice of
those whose high birth, and yet higher pride, lead them
to glory in their bloody works of cruelty, which haughty
and lordly men term deeds of chivalry. Your wisdorm  will
allow that it would be absurd in us to Drank ourselves in
their dainty plumes and splendid garments —why, then,
should we imitate their full-blown vices? Why should we
assume their hard-hearted pride and relentless cruelty, to
wVhich murder is not only a sport, but a subject of vainglorious triumph? Let those whose rank claims as its
right such bloody homage, take pride and pleasure in it;
-we, who have no share in the sacrifice, may the better
pity the sufferings of the victim.  Let us thank our lowliness, since it secures us from temptation. —But forgive
me, father, if I have stepped over the limits of my duty,
in contradicting the views which you entertain, with so
many others, on these subjects."
"Nay, thou hast ever too much talk for me, girl," said
her father, somewhat angrily.  " I am but a poor workman, whose best knowledge is to distinguish the left-hand
glove from the right.  But if thou wouldst have my forgiveness, say something of comfort to my poor Henry'There he sits, confounded and dismayed with all the
preachment thou hlast heaped together; and he, to whom
a trumpet sound was like the invitation to a feast, is struck
down at the sound of a child's whistle."
The armourer, indeed, while he heard the lips that
were dearest to him paint his character in such unfavourable colours, had laid his head down on the table, upol
his folded arms, in an attitude of the deepest dejection,
or almost despair. " I would to Heaven, my dearest
father," answered Catharine, 6' that it were in my power
to speak comfort to Henry, without betraying the sacred
cause of the truths I have just told you.  And I may,nay, I must have such a commission," she continued, with
something that the earnestness with which she spoke, and
the extreme beauty of her features, caused for the moment to resemble inspiration.  " The truth of Heavren,"
she said, in a solemn tone, "' was never committed to a




ST. VALENTINE S dAY.               39
tongue, however feeble, but it gave a right to that tongue
to announce mercy, while it declared judgment. —-Arise,
Henry —rise up, noble-minded, good, and generous,
though widely mistaken man-Thy faults are those of this
cruel and remorseless age-tlly virtues all thine own."
While she thus spoke, she laid her hand upon the
Smith's arm, and extricating it from under his head by a
force which, however gentle, he could not resist, she compelled him to raise towards her his manly face, and the
eyes into which her expostulations, mingled with other
feelings, had summoned tears. " Weep not," she said,
" or rather weep on-but weep as those who have hope.
Abjure the sins of pride and anger, which most easily beset thee-fling from thee the accursed weapons, to the
fatal and murderous use of which thou art so easily
tempted."
" You speak to me in vain, Catharine," returned the
armourer; "I may, indeed, turn monk and retire from the
world, but while I live in it I must practise my trade;
and while I form armour and weapons for others, I cannot myself withstand the temptation of using them. You
would not reproach me as you do, if you knew how inseparably the means by which I gain my bread are connected with that warlike spirit which you impute to me as
a fault, though it is the consequence of inevitable necessity. While I strengthen the shield or corslet to withstand
wounds, must I not have constantly in remembrance the
manner and strength with which they may be dealt; and
when I forge the sword, and temper it for war, is it practicable for me to avoid the recollection of its use?"
s "Then throw from  you, my dear Henry," said the
enthusiastic girl, clasping with both her slender hands the
nervous strength and weight of one of the muscular armourer's, which they raised with difficulty, permitted by
its owner, yet scarcely receiving assistance firom his volition
-" cast from you, I say, the art, which is a snare to you.
Abjure the fabrication of weapons which can only be useful to abridge human life, already too short for repentance,
or to encourage with a feeling of safety those whom fearl




4-0           ST. VALENTINE S DAYe
night otherwise prevent from risking themselves in peril
The art of forming arms, whether offensive or defensive
is alike sinful in one to whose violent and ever vehement
disposition the very working upon them proves a sin and
a snare. Resign utterly the manufacture of weapons of
every description, and deserve the forgiveness of Heaven,
by renouncing all that can lead to the sin which most
easily besets you."
" And what, " murmured the armourer, " am I to do
for my livelihood, when I have given over the art of forging arms, for which Henry of Perth is known from the
Tay to the Thames?"
" Your art itself," said Catharine, " has innocent and
laudable resources.  If you renounce the forging of
swords and bucklers, there remains to you the task ot
forming tile harmless spade, and the honourable as well
as useful ploughshare,-of those implements which contribute to the support of life, or to its comforts. Thou
canst frame locks and bars to defend the property of the
weak against the stouthrief and oppression of the strong.
Men will still resort to thee, and repay thy honest industry —— "
But here Catharine was interrupted.  Her father had
heard her declaim  against war and tournaments with a
feeling, that though her doctrines were new to him, they
might not, nevertheless, be entirely erroneous.  He felt,
indeed, a wish that his proposed son-in-law should not
commit himself voluntarily to the hazards which the daring character and great personal strength of Henry the
Smith had hitherto led him to incur too readily; and so
far he would rather have desired that Catharine's arguments should have produced some effect upon the mind o,
her lover, whom he knew to be as ductile, when influenced
by his affections, as lie was fierce and intractable when
assailed by hostile remonstrances or threats. But her
arguments interfered with his views, when he heard her
enlarge upon the necessity of his designed son-in-law re.
signing a trade which brought in more ready income than
any at that time practised in Scotland, and more profit to




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.              4C
Henrv of Perth, in particular, than to any armourer in the
nation   He had some indistinct idea, that it would not
be amiss to convert, if possible, Henry the Smith from his
too friequent use of arms, even though he felt some pride
in being connected with one who wielded with such superior excellence those weapons, which in that warlike age
it was the boast of all men to manage with spirit. But
when he heard his daughter recommend, as the readiest
road to this pacific state of mind, that her lover should
renounce the gainful trade in which he was held unrivalled, and which, from the constant private differences and
public wars of the time, was sure to afford him a large
income, he could withhold his wrath no longer.  The
daughter had scarce recommended to her lover the fabrication of the implements of husbandry, than, feeling the
certainty of being right, of which in the earlier part of
their debate he had been somewhat doubtful, the father
broke in with"' Locks and bars, plough-graith and harrow-teeth!
and why not grates and fire-prongs, and Culross girdles,12
and an ass to carry the merchandize through the country
-and thou for another ass to lead it by the halter? Why,
Catharine, girl, has sense altogether forsaken thee, or dost
thou think that in these hard and iron days, men will give
ready silver for anything save that which can defend their
own life, or enable them  to take that of their enemy?
We want swords to protect ourselves every moment now,
thou silly wench, and not ploughs to dress the ground for
the grain we may never see rise.  As for the matter of
our daily bread, those who are strong seize it, and live;
those who are weak yield it, and die of hunger. Happy
is the man wvho, like my worthy son, has means of obtaining his living otherwise than by the point of the sword
which he makes.  Preach peace to him as much as thou
wilt-I will never be he will say thee nay; but as for bidding the first armourer in Scotland forego the forging of
swords, curtal-axes, and harness, it is enough to drive
patience itself mad-Out from my sight!-and next morn4*  VOL. 1.




42            ST. AAL;ENTINE S DAY.
ng I prithee remember, that shouldst thou have the luck
to see Henry the Smith, which is more than thy usage of
him has deserved, you see a man who has not his match
in Scotland at the use of broadsword and battle-axe, and
who can work for five hundred marks a-year without
breaking a holiday."
The daughter, on hearing her father speak thus peremptorily, made a low obeisance, and, without further
good-night, withdrew to the chamber which was her usual
sleeping apartment.
CHAPTER  III.
Whence cometh`Smith, be he knight, lord, or squire,
But from the smith that forged ill the fire?
VE RSTEGAN.
TiE armourer's heart swelled big with various and
contending sensations, so that it seemed as if it would
burst the leathern doublet under which it was shrouded.
He arose-turned away his head, and extended his hand
towards the Glover, while he averted his face, as if desirous that his emotion should not be read upon his countenance.
" Nay, hang me if I bid you farewell, man," said Simon,
striking the flat of his hand against that wlhich the armourer expanded towards him.'" I will shake no hands
with you for an hour to come at least.  Tarry but a moment, man, and I will explain all this; and surely a few
drops of blood from a scratch, and a few silly words firom
a foolish wench's lips, are not to part father and son, when
they have been so long without meeting? Stay, then, man,
if ever you would wish for a father's blessing and St.
Valentine's, whose blessed eve this chances to be."
The Glover was soon heard loudly summoning Dorothy,
and, after some clanking of keys and trampling up and
down stairs, Dorothy appeared bearing three large rummer cups of green glass, which were then esteemed a
great and precious curiosity, and the Glover followed with




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.                  45
a huge bottle, equal at least to three quarts of these degenerate days. —": Here is a cup of wine, Henry, older by
half than I am myself; my father had it in a gift from
stout old Crabbe the Flemish engineer, who defended
Perth so stoutly in the minority of David the Second
We Glovers could always do something in war, though oui
connexion with it was less than yours who work in steel
and iron.  And my father had pleased old Crabbe —some
other day I will tell you how, and also how long these botties were concealed under ground, to save them from the
reiving Southron. So I will empty a cup to the soul's
health of my honoured father-May his sins be forgiven
him! Dorothy, thou shalt drink this pledge, and then be
gone to thy cock-loft.  I know thine ears are itching, girl,
but I have that to say which no one must hear save Henry
Smith, the son of mine adoption."
Dorothy did not venture to remonstrate, but taking off
her glass, or rather her goblet, with good courage, retired
to her sleeping apartment, according to her master's coinmanads.  The two friends were left alone.
" It grieves me, friend Henry," said Simon, filling at
the same time his own glass and his guest's, 1" it grieves
me, from my soul, that my daughter retains this silly humour; but also, methinks, thou mightst mend it.  Why
wouldst thou come hither clattering with thy sword and
dagger, when the girl is so silly that she cannot bear the
sight of these? Dost thou not remember that thou hadst
a sort of quarrel with her even before thy last departure
from Perth, because thou wouldst not go like other honest
quiet burghers, but must be ever armed, like one of the
rascally jackmenl3 that wait on the nobility? Sure it is time
enough for decent burgesses to arm, at the tolling of the
common bell, which calls us out bodin in effeir of war.'"*
"Why, my good father, that was not my fault; but I
had no sooner quitted my nag than I run hither to tell you
* That is, not in dread of war, but in tile guise which effi7rs, or belongs
to war; in arms, namely, offensive and defensive. " Bodin in feir of war,'
a frequent term in old Scottish history and muniments, means arrayed in
warlike guise.




44            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
of' my return, thinking, if it were your will to permit mel
that I would get your advice about being Mistress Catharine's Valentine for the year; and then I heard from Mrs.
Dorothy that you were gone to hear mass at the Black
Friars.  So, I thought I would follow thither, partly ta
hear the same mass with you, and partly —Our Lady and
St. Valentine forgive me-to look upon one who thinks
little enough of me-And, as you entered the church,
methought I saw two or three dangerous-looking men holding counsel together, and gazing at you and at her, and'in
especial Sir John Ramorny, whom I knew well enough,
for all his disguise, and the velvet patch over his eye, and
his cloak so like a serving-man's;-so methought, father
Simon, that as you were old, and yonder slip of a Itighlander something too young to do battle, I would even
walk quietly after you, not doubting, with the tools I had
about me, to bring any one to reason that might disturb
you in your way home. You know that yourself discovered me, and drew me into the house, whether I would
or no; otherwise, I promise you, I would not have seen
your daughter till I had donn'd the new jerkin which was
made at Berwick after the latest cut; nor would I have
appeared before her with these weapons, which she dislikes so much. Although, to say truth, so many are at
deadly feud with me for one unhappy chance or another,
that it is as needful for me as for any man in Scotland to
go by night with weapons about me."
"' The silly wench never thinks of that," said Simon
Glover; " she never has sense to consider, that in our dear
native land of Scotland every man deems it his privilege
and duty to avenge his own wrong. But, Harry, my boy,
thou art to blame for taking her talk so much to heart.
I have seen thee bold enough with other wenches-where
fore so still and tongue-tied with her?"
"Because she is something different from othel maid
ens, father Glover-because she is not only more beautiful,
but wiser, higher, holier, and seems to me as if she were
made of better clay than we that approach her. I can
hold my head high enough with the rest of the lasses




ST. VALEINTINE S DAY.              45
round the Maypole; but somehow, when I approach Catllarine, I feel myself an earthly, coarse, ferocious creature,
scarce worthy to look on her, much less to contradict the
precepts which she expounds to me."
" You are an imprudent merchant, Harry Smith," replied Simon; " and rate too high the goods you wish to
purchase.  Catharine is a good girl, and my daughter;
but if you make her a conceited ape by your bashfulness
and your flattery, neither you nor I will see our wishes
accomplished."
" I often fear it, my good father," said the Smith
" for I feel how little I am deserving of Catharine."
"~ Feel a thread's end!" said the Glover; "C feel for
me, friend Smith, for Catharine and me.  Think how the
poor thing: is beset from morning to night, and by what
sort of persons, even though windows be down and doors
shut.  We were accosted to-day by one too powerful to
be named,-ay, and he showed his displeasure openly,
because I would not permit him to gallant my. daughter in
the church itself, when the priest was saying mass. There
are others scarce less reasonable.  I sometimes wish ihat
Catharine were some degrees less fair, that she might not
catch that dangerous sort of admiration, or somewhat less
holy; that she might sit down like an honest woman,
contented with stout Henry Smith, who could protect
his wife against every sprig of chivalry in the Court of
Scotland."
"' And if I did not," said Henry, thrusting out a hand
and arm which might have belonged to a giant for bone
and muscle, " I would I may never bring hammer upon
anvil again. Ay, an it were come but that length, my fair
Catharine should see that there is no harm in a man having the trick of defence.  But I believe she thinks the
whole world is one great Minster-church, and that all who
live in it should behave as if they were at an eternal mass."
" Nay, in truth," said the father, " she has strange influence over those who approach her-the Highland lad,
Conachar, with whom I have been troubled for these two
or three years, although you may see he has the natura.




46            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
spirit of his people, obeys the least sign which Catharine
makes him, and, indeed, will hardly be ruled by any one
else in the house.  She takes much pains with him to
bring him from his rude Highland habits."
Here Harry Smith became uneasy in his chair, lifted
the flagon, set it down, and at length exclaimed, 1" The
devil take the young Highland whelp and his whole kindred! What has Catharine to do to instruct such a fellow
as he? He will be just like the wolf-cub that I was fool
enough to train to the offices of a dog, and every one
thought him reclaimed, till, in an ill hour, I went to walk
on the hill of Moncrieff, when he broke loose on the
Laird's flock, and made a havock that I might well have
rued, had the Laird not wanted a harness at the time. And
I marvel that you, being a sensible man, father Glover,
will keep this Highland young fellow —a likely one, I promise you —so nigh to Catharine, as if there were no other
than your daughter to serve him for a schoolmistress."
cc Fie, my son, fie,-now you are jealous," said Simon,
C' of a poor young fellow, who, to tell you the truth, resides here, because he may not so well live on the other
side of the hill."
"' Ay, ay, Father Simon," retorted the Smith, who had
all the narrow-minded feelings of the burghers of his
time, " an it were not for fear of offence, I would say
that you have even too much packing and peeling with
yonder loons out of burgh."
" I must get my deer-hides, buck-skins, kid-skins, and
so forth, somewhere, my good Harry,-and Highlandmen
give good bargains."'~ They can afford them," replied Henry, dryly; " for
they sell nothing but stolen gear."
1" Well, well,-be that as it may, it is not my business
where they get the bestial, so I get the hides.  But as I
was saying, there are certain considerations why I am
willing to oblige the father of this young man, by keeping
him here. And he is but half a Highlander neither, and
wants a thought of the dour spirit of a Glune-amie;l4



ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               47
after all, 1 have seldom seen him so fierce as he showed
himself but now."' ~'~ You could not, unless he had killed his man," replied the Smith, in tile same dry tone.
"~ Nevertheless, if you wish it, Harry, I'll set all -other
respects aside, and send the landlouper to seek other
quarters to-morrow morning."
"Nay, faither," said the Smith, "' you cannot suppose that Harry Gow cares the value of a smithy-dander*
fobr such a cub as yonder cat-a-mountain? I care little, I
promise you, though all his clan were coming down the
Shoe-gatel5with slogan crying, and pipes playing; I would
find fifty blades and bucklers would send them back
faster than they came.  But, to speak truth, though it
is a fool's speech too-I care not to see the fellow so much
with Catharine.  Remember, father Glover, your trade
keeps your eyes and hands close employed, and must
have your heedful care, even if this lazy lurdane wrought
at it, which you know yourself he seldom does.'"
1" And that is true," said. Simon; " he cuts all his
gloves out for the right hand, and never could finish a pair
in his life."
" No doubt, his notions of skin-cutting are rather different," said Henry.  " But with your leave, father, I
would only say, that work he, or be he idle, he has no
bleared eyes,-no hands seared with the hot iron, and
wellked by the use of the fore-halnmer,-no hair rusted
in the smoke, and singed in the furnace, like the hide of
a bad.ger, rather than what is fit to be covered with a
Christian bonnet.  Now, let Catharine be as good a
wench as ever lived, and I will uphold her to be the best
in Perth, yet she must see and know that these things
make a difference betwixt man and man, and that the
difference is not in my favour."'" Here is to thee, with all my heart, son Harry," said
the old man, filling a brimmein    to his companion, and
another to himself;' I see, that good smith as thou art
* Cinder.




,48           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
thnu ken'st not the mettle that women are made of
Thou must be bold, Henry; and bear thyself not as i
thou wvert going to the gallow-lee, but like a gay young
fellow, who knows his own worth, and will not be slighted by the best grandchild Eve ever had. Catharine is a
woman like her mother, and thou thinkest foolishly to
suppose they are all set on what pleases the eye. Their
ear must be pleased too, man; they must know that he
whom they favour is bold and buxom, and might have the
love of twenty, though he is sueing for theirs.  Believe
an old man, women walk more by what others think than
by what they think themselves; and when she asks for
the boldest man in Perth, whom shall she hear named but
Harry Burn-the-wind?-The best armourer that ever
fashioned weapon on anvil? why Harry Smith againThe tightest dancer at the May-pole?-why, the lusty
smith-The gayest troller of ballads?-why, who but
Harry Gow?-The best wrestler, sword-and-buckler
player-the king of the weapon-shawing —the breaker of
mad horses-the tamer of wild Highllandmen?-ever
more it is thee-thee-no one but thee.-And shall Catharine prefer yonder slip of a Highland boy to thee?Pshaw! she might as well make a steel gauntlet out of
kid's leather. I tell thee, Conachar is nothing to her, but
so far as she would fain prevent the devil having his due
of him, as of other Highlandmen-God bluss her, poor
thing, she would bring all mankind to better thoughts if
she could."
"1 In which she will fail to a certainty,"-said the
Smith, who, as the reader may have noticed, had no good
will to the Highland race. " I wvill wager on Old Nick,
of whom I should know something, he being indeed a
worker in the same element with myself, against Catharine on that debate-the devil will have the tartan; that
is sure enough."'" Ay, but Catharine," replied the Glover,'6 hath a
second thou knowei:t little of-Father Clement has taken
the young reiver in land, and he fears a hundred devils
as little as I do a fHt ck of geese.'




ST.'VALENTINE IS DAY.             49
~' Father Clement!" said the Smith; " you are always
making some new saint in this godly city of Saint Johnston.   Pray, who, for a devil's drubber, may he be?one of your hermits that is trained for the work like a
wrestler for the ring, and brings himself to trim by fasting
and penance-is Ihe not?"'4 No, that is tile marvel of it," said Simon; " Father
Clement eats, drinks, and lives much like other folks —all
the rules of the church, nevertheless, strictly observed."'6 Oh, I comprehend!-a buxom  priest that thinks
more of good living than of good life-tipples a can on
Fastern's Eve, to enable him to face Lent —has a pleasant in principio-and confesses all the prettiest women
about the town?"
"' You are on the bow-hand still, Smith.  I tell you,
my daughter and I could nose out either a fasting hypocrite or a full one.  But Father Clement is neither the
one nor the other."
"6 But what is he then, in Heaven's name?"9
"~ One who is either greatly better than half his brethren of St. Johnston put together, or so much worse than
the worst of them, that it is sin and shame that he is suffered to abide in the country."
" Methinks it were easy to tell whether he be the one
or the other," said the Smith.'" Content you, my friend," said Simon," with knowing, that if you judge Father Clement by what you see
him do and hear him say, you will think of him  as the
best and kindest man in the world, with a comfort for
every man's grief, a counsel for every man's difficulty,
the rich man's surest guide, and the poor man's best friend
But if you listen to what the Dominicans say of him, he
is-Benedicite! (here the Glover crossed himself on
brow and bosom)-a foul heretic, who ought by means
of earthly flames to be sent to those which burn eternally."
The Smith also crossed himself, and exclaimed —" St.
Mary! father Simon, and do you, who are so good and
prudent that you have been called the Wise Glover ol
5 VOL. T.




30           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
Perth. let your daughter attend the ministry of one who
— the Saints preserve us! —nay be in league with the
foul Fiend himself? Why, was it not a priest who raised
the devil in the Meal Vennel, when Hodge Jackson's
house was blown down in the great wind?-did not the
devil appear in the midst of the Tay, dressed in a priest's
scapular, gambolling like a pellach amongst the waves, the
morning when our stately bridge was swept away?"
"I cannot tell whether he did or no," said the Glover;
"1 I only know I saw him not. As to Catharine, she cannot be said to use Father Clement's ministry, seeing her
confessor is old Father Francis the Dominican, from whom
she had her shrift to-day.  But women will sometimes be
wilful, and sure enough she consults with Father Clement
more than I could wish; and yet when I have spoken
with him myself, I have thought him so good and holy a
man, that I could have trusted my own salvation with him.
There are bad reports of him among the Dominicans, that
is certain. But what have we laymen to do with such
things, my son? Let us pay Mother Church her dues,
give our alms, confess and do our penances duly, and the
saints will bear us out.7"'a Ay, truly; and they will have consideration,"' said
the Smith, "' for any rash and unhappy blow that a man
may deal in a fight, when his party was on defence, and
standing up to him; and that's the only creed a man can
live upon in Scotland, let your daughter think what she
pleases. Mlarry, a man must know his fence, or have a
short lease of his life, in any place where blows are going
so rife. Five nobles to our altar have cleared me for the
best man I ever had misfortune with."
1" Let us finish our flask, then," said the old Glover;
"' for I reckon the Dominican tower is tolling midnight.
And hark thee, son Henry; be at the lattice winldow on
our east gable by the very peep of dawn, and make me
aware thou art come by whistling the Smith's call gently.
I will contrive that Catharine shall look out at the window, and thus thou wilt have all the privileges of being a
gallant Valentine through the rest of the year; which if




ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.                 51
thoul canst not use to thine own cadvantage, I shall be led
to think, that for all thou be'st covered with the lion's
hide, Nature has left on acee the long ears of the ass.":' Amen, father," said the armourer; " a hearty good
niglht to you; and God's blessing on your roof-tree, and
those whom  it covers.  You shall hear the Smith's call
sound by cock-crowing; I warrant I put Sir Chanticleer
to shame."
So saying, lie took his leave, and, though completely
undaunted, moved throughll the deserted streets like one
upon his guard, to his own dwelling, which was situated
in the Ailill Wynd, at the western end of Perth.
CHAPTER IV.
What's all thlis turmoil crammed into our parts 7
Faith, but the pit-a-pat of poor young hearts.
DRYDEN.
TirE sturdy armourer was not, it may be believed, slack
n keeping the appointmnent assigned by his intended fa-.
ther-in-lav.  He went through thle process of his toilette
witl more than ordinary care, t.hrowing, as far as he
could, those points which had a military air into tle
shade.  lHe was far too noted a person to venture to go
entirely unarmed in a town where lie had indeed many
friends, but also, from the character of many of his former
exploits, several deadly enemies, at whose hands, should
they take him at advantage, lie knew lie had little mercy
to expect.  He, therefore, wore under his jerkin a secret,
or coat of chain —mail, made so light and flexible that it
interfered as little with his movements as a modern under-waistcoat, yet of such proof as lie might safely depend
upon, every ring of it having been wrought and joined byi
his own hands.  Above this he wore, like others of his
age and degree, the Flemish hose and doublet, which, in
honour of the holy tide, were of the best superfine English broad-cloth, light blue in colour, slashed out with
black satin, and passamented (laced, that is) with em



52      ~     i'k, VA~EST. VALENTINTE'S DAY.
bioidery of black silk. His walking boots were of cordon
van leather; his cloak of good Scottish grey, which
served to conceal a whinger, or couteau de chasse, that
hung at his belt, and was his only offensive weapon, for
he carried in his hand but a rod of holly. His black velvet bonnet was lined with steel, quilted between the metal
and his head, and thus constituted a means of defence
which might safely be trusted to.
Upon the whole, Henry had the appearance, to which
he was well entitled, of a burgher of wealth and consideration, assuming, in his dress, as much consequence as
he could display, without stepping beyond his own rank,
and encroaching on that of the gentry.  Neither did his
frank and manly deportment, though indicating a total
indifference to danger, bear the least resemblance to that
of the bravoes or swash-bucklers of the day, amongst
whom Henry was sometimes unjustly ranked by those
who imputed the firays, in which lie was so often engaged,
to a quarrelsome and violent temper, resting upon a consciousness of his personal strength and knowledge of his
weapon. On the contrary, every feature bore the easy
and good-humoured expression of one who neither thought
of inflicting mischief, nor dreaded it from others.
Having attired himself in his best, the honest armourer
next placed nearest to his heart (which throbbed at its
touch,) a little gift which he had long provided for Catharine Glover, and which his quality of Valentine would
presently give him the title to present, and her to receive,
without regard to maidenly scruples. It was a small ruby
cut into the form of a heart, transfixed with a golden arrow, and was inclosed in a small purse made of links of
the finest work in steel, as if it had been designed for a
hauberk to a king. Round the verge of the purse were
these wordsLove's darts
Cleave hearts
Through mail-shirts.
This device had cost the armourer some thought, and
he was much satisfied with his composition, because it




ST. VALE.NTINE S DAY.              53
seemed to imply that -is skill could defend all hearts
saving his own.  He wrapped himself in his cloak, and
hastened through the still silent streets, determined to
appear at the window appointed a little before dawn.
With this purpose he passed up the High Street}6and
turned down the opening where Saint John's Church now
stands, in order to proceed to Curfew Street;l7when it
occurred to him, from the appearance of the sky, that he
was at least an hour too early for his purpose, and that it
would be better not to appear at the place of rendezvous till nearer the time assigned.  Other gallants were
not unlikely to be on the watch as well as himself, about
the house of the Fair Maid of Perth; and he knew his
own foible so well, as to be sensible of the great chance
of a scuffle arising betwixt them.  " I have the advantage," he thought,'" by my Father Simon's friendship;
and why should I stain my fingers with the blood of the
poor creatures that are not worthy my notice, since they
are so much less fortunate than myself? No-no-I will
be wise for once, and keep at a distance from all temptation to a broil. They shall have no more time to quarrel
with me than just what it may require for me to give the
signal, and for my father Simon to answer it.  I wonder
how the old man will contrive to bring her to the window?
I fear, if she knew his purpose, he would find it difficult
to carry it into execution."
While these lover-like thoughts were passing through
his brain, the armourer loitered in his pace, often turning
his eyes eastward, and eyeing the firmament, in which no
slight shades of grey were beginning to flicker, to announce the approach of dawn, however distant, which,
to the impatience of the stout armourer, seemed on that
morning to abstain longer than usual from occupying her
eastern barbican. He was now passing slowly under the
wall of Saint Anne's Chapel, (not failing to cross himself
and say an ave, as he trode the consecrated ground,) when
x1 voice, which seemed to come from behind one of the
5*  VOL. I.




54             ST. VA LENTINE S DAY.
flying buttresses of the chapel, said, "C He lingers that has
need to run."
"Who speaks?" said the armourer, looking around
him, somewhat startled at an address so unexpected, both
in its tone and tenor.
" No matter who speaks," answered the same voice.
" Do thou make great speed, or thou wilt scarce make
good speed. Bandy not words, but begone."
" Saint or sinner, angel or devil," said Henry, crossing
himself, " your advice touches me but too dearly to be
neglected.  Saint Valentine be my speed!"
So saying, he instantly changed his loitering pace to
one with which few people could have kept up, and in an
instant was in Couvrefew Street.  He had not made three
steps towards Simon Glover's, which stood in the midst
of the narrow street, when two men started from under
the houses on diffierent sides, and advanced, as it were
by concert, to intercept his passage.  The imperfect light
only permitted him to discern that they wore the H-ighland
mantle.
"l Clear the way, catheran," said the armourer, in the
deep stern voice which corresponded with the breadth
of his chest.
They did not answer, at least intelligibly; but he could
see that they drew their swords, with the purpose of withstanding him by violence.  Conjecturing some evil, but
of what kind he could not anticipate, Henry instantly determined to make his way through whatever odds, and
defend his mistress, or at least die at her feet.  IlHe cast
his cloakN over his lef armn as a buckler, and advanced
rapidly and steadily to thle two imen.'The nearest made
a thrust at hiln, but Henriy Smnith, parrying the blow with
his cloak,  dashed his arm in the man's face, and tripping
himin t the sanle time, gave him a severe fall on the causeway, while almost at the same instant he struck a blow
with his whinger at the fellow who was upon his light
hand, so severely applied, that he also lay prostrate by
his associate.  Meanwhile, the armoui'er pushed forward
in alarm, for which the circumstances of the street being




ST. VALNTINITSE   DAY.             55
guarded or defended by strangers who conducted them —
selves wNitlh SUCI violence, afforded sufficient reason.  He
heard a supp'ressed whisper atnd a bustle under the
Gltover's wvindows —those- very windows frorm which hke
hacd expected to be lhaled by Catharine as her Valentine.
He kept to tile opposite side oi' the street, that Ihe might
reconnoitre thleir. nuller' and purpose.  But one of' tlh
party, who wvere beIneiath the window, observing or hearing him, crossed the street also, and taking him doubtless
for one of the sentinels, asked, in a whisper, 6 What noise
was yonder, Kenneth? why gave you not the signal?"
"' Villain!" said Henry, " you are discovered, and you
shall die the death!"
As he spoke thus, lie dealt the stranger a blow with his
weapon, which would probably have made his words good,
had not the man, raising his arm, received on his hand
the blow meant for his head.  The wound must have been
a severe one, for he staggered and fell with a deep groan.
Without noticing him  farther, Henry Stnith sprung forward upon a party of men who seemed engaged in placing
a ladder against the lattice window in the gable.  Henry
did not stop either to count their numbers or to ascerta;n
their purpose.  -But crying the alarm-word of tlhe town,
and giving the signal at which the burghlers were wont to
collect, he rushed on the nightwalkers, one of whom w15as
in the act of ascending the ladder.  The Smith seized it
by the rounds, threw it down on the pavement, and placing
his foot on the body of the, man who had been mounting,
prevented him from regaining his feet.  His accomplices
struck fiercely at Henry, to extricate their companior.
But his mail-coat stood him in good stead, and he repaid
their blows with interest, shouting aloud, " Help, help, for
bpnnie St. Johnston!-Bows and blades, brave citizens!
bows and blades!-they break into our houses under
rPloud of niglht."
These words, which resounded far through the streets,
were accompanied by as many fierce blows, dealt wtlth
good effect among those whom  the armourer assailed.
In the meantime, the inhabitants of the street began to




56 0ST.'   it1.lx, TINETN..S DAY.
awaken and appear on the street in thIeir shirts, with swv ords
and targets, and some of them with torches.  The assailants now endeavoured to make their escape, which all of
them effected excepting the man who had been thrown
down along with the ladder.  Him the intrepid armourer
had caugilt by the throat in the scuffle, and held as fast
as the greyhound holds the hare. The other wounded
men were borne off by their comlrades.
"' Here are a sort of knaves breaking peace within
burglh," said Henry to the neighbours who began to assermble;'" make after the rogues.  They cannot all get
off, for I hlave maimed some of them; the blood will
guide you to them."
CSome Highland catherans —" said the citizens, —
6' up, and chase, neighbours!"
Ay, chlase-chlase,-leave me to manage this fellow,"
continued the armourer.
The assistants mdispersed in different directions, their
lights flashing, and their cries resounding through the
whole adjacent district.
in the meantime the armourer's captive entreated for
freedom, using both promises and threats to obtain it.
6 As thou art a gentleman," lie said, " let me go, and what
is past shall be forgiven."
I am no gentleman," sail HTenry —' I am 1Hal of the
Wynd,  a burgess of Perth; and I have done nothing to
need forgiveness."
G Villain, thou hast done thou knowest not what! But
let me go, and I will fill tly bolnet with gold pieces."
I' I shall fill tlhy bonnet with a cloven head presently,"
said the armourer, 6 unless thou stand still as a true prisoner."7
1 Wlhat is the matter, my son Harry?" said Simon
who now appeared at the window._" I hear thy voice in
another tone than I expected.-What is all this noise,
and why are the neighbours gathering to the affray?9' There have been a proper set of limmers about to
scale your windows, father Simon; but I am like to prove




ST. VAIIENTINE'  S D XAY.          57
godfather to one of them, whom I hold here, as fast as
ever vice held iron."
"' Hear me, Simon Glover," said the prisoner; " let
me but speak one word with you in private, and rescue me
from the gripe of this iron-fisted and leaden-pated clown,
and I will show thee, that no harm was designed to thee
or thine; and, moreover, tell thee what will much advantage thee."
" I should know that voice," said Simon Glover, who
now came to the door xvith a dark-lantern in his hand.
" Son Smith, let this young man speak with me.  There
is no danger in him, I promise you.  Stay but an instant
where you are, and let no one enter the house, either to
attack or defend.  I will be answerable that this galliard
meant but some Saint Valentine's jest."
So saying, the old man pulled in the prisoner and shut
the door, leaving Henry a little surprised at the unexpected light in which his father-in-law had viewed the affray.
- A jest!" he said; "' it might have been a strange jest,
if they had got into the maiden's sleeping room!-And
they would have done so, had it not been for the honest
friendly voice from  betwixt the buttresses, which, if it
were not that of the blessed Saint, (though what am I that
the holy person should speak to me?) could not sound
in that place without her permission and assent, and for
which I will promise her a wax candle at her shrine, as
long as my whinger,-and I would I had had my twohanded broadsword instead, both for the sake of St. Johnston  and of the rogues-for of a certain,.those whingers
are pretty toys, but more fit for a boy's hand than a man's.
Oh, my old two-handed Trojan, hadst thou been in my
beands, as thou hang'st presently at the tester of my bed, the
legs of those rogues had not carried their bodies so clean
Dff the field.-But there come lighted torches and drawn
swords.-So ho-stand!-Are you for St. Johnston?If friends to the bonnie burgh, you are well come."
"' We have been but bootle'ss hunters," said the townsmen. 64 We followed by the tracks of the blood into the
Dominican burial-ground, and we started two fellows from




58             ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
amongst the tombs, supporting betwixt them a third, who
had probably got some of your marks about himn, Harry.
They got to the postern gate before we could overtake
them, and rang the sanctuary bell,-the gate opened, and
in went they.  So they are safe in girth and sanctuary,
and we may go to our cold beds and warm us."'5 Ay," said one of the party, "' the good Dominican,have always sonie devout brother of their convent sittilg
up to open the gate of the sanctuary to any poor soul that
is in trouble, and desires shelter in the church.'
" Yes, if the poor hunted soul can pay for it," said
another; " but, truly, if he be poor in purse as well as in
spirit, he may stand on the outside till the hounds come
up with him."
A third, who had been poring for a few minutes upon
the ground by advantage of his torch, now looked upwards and spoke.  He was a brisk, forward, rather corpulent little man, called Oliver Proudfute, reasonably
wealthy, and a leading man in his craft, which was that of
bonnet-makers; he, therefore, spoke as one in authority.
-" Canst tell us, jolly Smith,"-for they recognized
each other by the lights which were brought into the
streets,-" what manner of fellows they were who raised
up this fray within burgh?'
"0 The two that I first saw,"' answered the armourer,
" seemed to me, as well as I could observe them, to have
Highland plaids about them."' Like enough-like enough," answered anothercilizen,
shaking his head.  " It's a shame the breaches in our
walls are not repaired, and that these land-louping Highland scoundrels are left at liberty to take honest men and
women out of their beds any night that is dark enough."
" But look here, neighbours," said Oliver Proudfuite,
showing a bloody hand which he lhad picked up fiom the
ground; " when did such a hand as this tie a Highlandman's brogues? It is large, indeed, and bony, but as fine
as a lady's, with a ring that sparkles like a gleaming candle. Simon Glover has made gloves for this hand before
now, if I am not much mistaken, for he works for all the




ST. VAIEMNTINE'S DAY.               59
courtiers."   The spectators here began to gaze on the
bloody token with various comments.
" If that is the case," said one, " Harry Smith had best
show a clean pair of heels for it, since the Justiciar will
scarce think the protecting a burgess's house an excuse
for cutting off a gentleman's hand.  There be hard laws
against mutilation."
" Fie upon you, that you will say so, Michael Wabster," answered the bonnet-maker;' are we not representatives and successors of the stout old Romans, who built
Perth as like to their own city as they could? And have
we not charters from all our noble kings and progenitors,
as being their loving liegemen? And would you have us
now yield up our rights, privileges, and irnmunities, our
outfang and infang, our hand-habend, our back-bearand,
and our blood-suits, and amerciaments, esclleats, and
commodities, and suffer an honest burgess's house to be
assaulted without seeking for redress? No —brave citizens, craftsmen, and burgesses, the Tay shall flow back
to Dunkeld before we submit to sullch injustice!"'" And how can we help it?" said a grave old man, who
stood leaning on a two-handed sword-" What would you
have us do?"
" 2.arry, Bailie Craigdallie, I wonder that you, of all
men ask the question.  I would have you pass like true
men from this very place to the King's Grace's presence,
raise him from his royal rest, and presenting to hiim the
piteous case of our being called forth fromn  our beds at
this season, with little better covering tthan these shirts, I
would show him  this bloody token, and know from  his
Grace's own royal lips, whether it is just andl honest that
his loving lieges should be thus treated by the knights anti
nobles of his debosbed court.  And this I call pushing
our cause warmly."
G" Warmly, sayst thou?" replied the old burgess;
why, so warmly that we shall all die of cold, man, be
fore the porter turn a key to let us into the royal presence.
-Come, friends, the night is bitter —we have kept our
watch and ward like men, and our jolly Smith hath given




60            ST. VAtENTINE' S DAY.
a warning to those that would wrong us, which shall be
worth twenty proclamations of the King. To-morrow is
a new day; we will consult on this matter on this selfsame spot, and consider what measures should be taken
for discovery and pursuit of the villains. And therefore
let us dismiss before the heart's-blood freeze in our veins."'s Bravo, bravo, neighbour Craigdallie-St. Johnston
for ever!"
Oliver Proudfute would still have spoken; for he was
one of those pitiless orators who think that their eloquence
can overcome all inconveniences in time, place, and circumstances. But no one would listen; and the citizens
dispersed to their own houses by the light of the dawn,
which began now to streak the horizon.
They were scarce gone ere the doorofthe Glover's house
opened, and seizing the Smith by the hand, the old man
pulled him in.
" Where is the prisoner?" demanded the armourer.
l He is gone-escaped-fled-what do I know of
him?" said the Glover.." He got out at the back door,
and so through the little garden.-Think not of him, but
come and see the Valentine, whose honour and life you
have saved this morning."
" Let me but sheathe my weapon," said the Smith" let me but wash my hands."
" There is not an instant to lose, she is up and almost
dressed. —Come on, man.  She shall see thee with thy
good weapon in thy hand, and with villain's blood on thy
fingers, that she may know what is the value of a true
man's service. She has stopped my mouth over long
with her pruderies and her scruples. I will have her
know what a brave man's love is worth, and a bold btu
wess's to boot."




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.                 61
CHIAPTER V.
Up! lady fair, and braid thy hair,
And rouse thee ill the breezy air.
Up! quit thy bower, late wears the hour,
Long have the rooks cawed round the tower.
JOANNA BAILLIE.
STARTLED from her repose by the noise of the affray,
the Fair Mlaid of Perth had listened in breathless terror
to the sounds of violence and outcry which arose from
the street.  She had sunk on her knees to pray for assistance, and when she distinguished the voices of neighbours
and friends collected for her protection, she remained in
the same posture to return thanks.  She was still kneeling when her father almost thrust her champion, Henry
Smith, into her apartment; the bashful lover hanging
back at first, as if afraid to give offence, and, on observing
her posture, from respect to her devotion.' Father," said the armourer, " she prays-I dare no
more speak to her than to a bishop when he says mass."
s" Now, go thy ways, for a right valiant and courageous
blockhead," said her father; and then speaking to his
daughter, he added,-" Heaven is best thanked, my
daughter, by gratitude shown to our fellow-creatures.
Here comes the instrument by whom God has rescued thee
from death, or perhaps from dishonour worse than death.
Receive him, Catharine, as thy true Valentine, and him
whom I desire to see my affectionate son."
" Not thus-father,"' replied Catharine.;' I can seecan speak to no one now. I am not ungrateful-perhaps
I am too thankful to the instrument of our safety; but let
me thank the guardian Saint who sent me this timely relief, and give me but a moment to don my kirtle."
" Nay, God-a-mercy, wench, it were hard to deny thee
tim'e to busk thy body-clothes, since the request is the only
words like a woman that thou hast uttered for these ten
days.-Truly, son Harry, I would my daughter would put
off being entirely a saint, till the time comes for her being
canonized for St. Catharine the Second."
6  VOL. I.




62            ST. VALENTINE S IPA
"Nay, jest not, father; for I will swear she has at least
one sincere adorer already, who hath devoted himself to
her pleasure, so far as sinful man inay.-lFare-thee-weli
then, for the moment, fair maiden," )   e concluded, raising
his voice, "' and Hleaven send thee dreams as peaceful as
thy waking thoughts.  I go to watch thy slumbers, and
woe with hirm that shall intrude on them!'
6' Nay, good and brave Henry, whose warm heart is at
such variance with thy reckless hand, thrust thyself into
no farther quarrels to-night; but take the kindest thanks,
and with these, try to assume the peaceful thoughts which
you assign to me.  To-morrow we will meet, that I may
assure you of my gratitude-Farewell."
"And farewell, ladly and light of my heart!9' said the
armourer, and, descending the stair which led to Catharine's apartment, was about to sally forth into the street,
when the Glover caught him by the arnl.
" I shall like the ruffle of to-night," said he, "' better
than I ever thought to do the clashing of steel, if it brings
my daughter to her senses, Harry, and teaches her what
thou art worth.  By St. Macgrider!"  I even love these
roysterers, and am sorry for that poor lover who will never
wear left-handed chevron again.  Ay! He has lost that
which he will miss all the days of his life, especially
when he goes to pull on his gloves,-ay, he will pay but
half a fee to my craft in future.-Nay, not a step from
this house to-night," lie continued. " Thou dost not leave
us, I promise thee, my son.'"
"6 I do not mean it.  But I will, with your permission,
watch in the street.  The attack may be renewed."
" And if it be," said Simon, " thou wilt have better actess to drive them back, having the vantage of the house.
It is the way of fighting which suits us burghers bestthat of resisting from behind stone walls.  Our duty-of
watch and ward teaches us that trick; besides, enough
are awake and astir to ensure us peace and quiet till
morning.  So come in this way."
So saying, he drew Henry, nothing loath, into the same
apartment where they had supped, and where the old




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               63
woman, who was on foot, disturbed as others had been
by the nocturnal affray, soon roused up the fire.
66 And now, my doughty son," said the Glover, " what
liquor wilt thou pledge thy father in?"
Henry Smith lhad suffered himself to sink mechanically
upon a seat of old black oak, and now gazed on the
fire, that flashed back a ruddy light over his manly features.  He muttered to himself half audibly —" Good
Henry-brave Henry-Ah! had she but said, dear
Henry!'"
" What liquors be these?" said the old Glover, laughing.  "  lMy cellar holds none such; but if sack, or rhenish, or wrine of Gascony can serve, why, say the word
and the flagon foams —that is all."' The kindest thanks," said the armourer, still musing;
"that's more than she ever said to me before-the kindest
thanks-what may not that stretch to?"''" It shall stretch like kid's leather, man," said the
Glover, " if thou wilt but be ruled, and say what thou
wilt take for thy morning's draught."
" Whatever thou wilt, father," answered the armourer
carelessly, and relapsed into the analysis of Catharine's
speech to him.  "' She spoke of my warin heart; but
she also spoke of mny reckless hand.'What earthly tlling
can I do to get rid of this fighting fancy? Certainly I
were best strike my right hand ofF, and nail it to the door
of a church, that it may never do me discredit more.";s You have chopped off hands enough for one night,"
said his friend, setting -a flagon of wine on the table.
"' Why dost thou vex thyself, man? She would love thee
twice as well did she not see how thou dotest upon her.
But it becomes serious now.  I am not to have the risk
of my booth being broken, and my house plundered, by
the hell-raking followers of the nobles, because she is
called the Fair TMaid of Perth, and please ye. No, she
shall know I am her father, and will have that obedience
to which law and gospel give me right.  I will have her
thy wife, Henry, my heart of gold-thy wife, my man of




644           ST. VALENTINE S DAYo
metal, and that before many weeks are over. Come,
come, here is to thy merry bridal, jolly Smith."
The father quaffed a large cup, and filled it to his
adopted son, who raised it slowly to his head; then, ere
it had reached his lips, replaced it suddenly on the table
and shook his head.
"Nay, if thou wilt not pledge me to such a health, I
know no one who will," said Simon.  " What canst thou
mean, thou foolish lad? Here has a chance happened,
which in a manner places her in thy power, since from
one end of the city to the other, all would cry fie on her
if she should say thee nay. Here am I her father, not
only consenting to the cutting out of the match, but willing to see you two as closely united together, as ever
needle stitched buckskin. And with all this on thy side,
fortune, father, and all, thou lookest like a distracted lover
in a ballad, more like to pitch thyself into the Tay, than
to woo a lass that may be had for the asking, if you can
but choose the lucky minute."
"A' y, but that lucky minute, father! I question much
if Catharine ever has such a moment to glance on earth
and its inhabitants, as might lead her to listen to a coarse
ignorant borrel man like me.  I cannot tell how it is,
father; elsewhere I can hold up my head like another
man, but with your saintly daughter I lose heart and
courage, and I cannot help thinking that it would be well
nigh robbing a holy shrine, if I could succeed in surprising her affections.  Her thoughts are too much fitted
for heaven to be wasted on such a one as I am."
a' E'en as you like, Henry," answered the Glover.'* My daughter is not courting you any more than I ama fair offer is no cause of feud;-only if you think that I
will give into her foolish notions of a convent, take it with
you that I will never listen to them. I love and honour
the church," he said, crossing himself.  " I pay her
rights duly and cheerfully; tithes and alms, wine and
wax, I pay them as justly, I say, as any man in Perth of
my means doth; but I cannot afford the church my only
and single ewe-lamb that I have in the world.  Her




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.               65
mother was dear to me on earth, and is now an angel in
heaven.  Catharine is all I have to remind me of her I
have lost; and if she goes to the cloister, it shall be when
these old eyes are closed for ever, and not sooner.-But
as for you, friend Gow~, I praty you will act according to
your own best liking. I: wan-t to force no wile on you9
i promise you."l'L Nay, now, you beat the iron twice over," said Henry.
" It is thus we always end, father, by your being testy
with me for not doing that thing in the world which
would make me happiest, were 1 to have it in my power.
Why, father, I would the keenest dirk I ever forged were
sticking in my heart at this moment, if there is one single
particle in it that is not more your daughter's property
than my own.  But what can I do?  I cannot think less
of her, or more of myself, than we both deserve; and
what seems to you so easy and certain, is to me as difficult as it would be to work a. steel hauberk out of hards
of flx.-But here is to you, father," lie added, in a more
cheerful tone; " and here is to my fair Saint and Valentine, as I hope your Catharine will be mine for the season.
And let me not keep your old head longer from the pillow, but make interest with your feather-bed till daybreak; and then you must be my guide to your daughter's chamber-door, and my apology for entering it, to bid
her good-morrow, for the brightest that the sun will awaken in the city or for miles round it!"
" No bad advice, my son," said the honest Glover.
" But you, what will you do? will you lie down beside
me, or take a part of Conachar's bed?"
" Neither," answered Harry Gow; " I should but
prevent your rest; and for me this easy-chair is worth a
down bed, and I will sleep like a sentinel, with my graittl
about me.9
As he spoke, he laid his hand on his sword.
6" Nay, Heaven send us no more need of weapons.-,Good-night, or rather, good-morrow, till day-peep —and
the first who wakes calls up the other."
6*  VOL. I.




66             ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
Thus parted the two burghers.  The Glover retired
to his bed, and, it is to be supposed, to rest. The lover
was not so fortunate.  His bodily firame easily bore the
fatigue which he had encountered in the course of the
night, but his mind was of a different and more delicate
mould.  In one point of view, he wTas but the stout
burgher of his period, proud alike of his art in making
weapons, and wielding  them when made; his professional
}ealousy, personal strength, anti skill in the use of arms,
brought him into many quarrels, which had made himn
generally feared, and in some instances (islikedl.  But
with these qualities were united thle sinmple good-nature
of a child, and at the samne time an imaginative and enthusiastic temper, which seemed little to correspond with
his labours at the forge, or his combats in the field.
Perhaps a little of the hair-brained and ardent feeling
which lie bhad picked out of' old ballads, or friomn the
metrical romances which were his sole source of information or knowledge, may have been the means of plicking him on to some of his achievements, which had often
a rude strain of chivalry in them; at least, it was certain that his love to the fair Catharine had in it a delicacy
such as might have become the squire of low  degree,
who was honoured, if song speaks truth, wvith the smiles
of the King of Hungary's daughter.  His sentiments
towards her were certa.inly as exalted as if they had
been fixed upon an actual angel, which made old Simon,
and others who watched his conduct, think that his passion was too high and devotional to be successful with
maiden of mortal mould.  They were mistaken, however.
Catharine, coy and reserved as she was, had a heart
which could feel and understand the nature and depth of
the armourer's passion; and whether she was able to repay it or not, she had as much secret pride in the attachment of the redoubted Henry Gow, as a lady of romance
may be supposed to have in. the company of a tame lion,
who follows to provide for and defend her.  It was with
sentiments of the most sincere gratitude that she recollected, as she awoke  at dawn, the services of Henry dur



ST. VAIfENTINIE S DAY.             GI
ing the course of the eventful nigbt, and the first thoulght
which she dwelt upon, was the means of making him Understand her feeiings.
Arising hastily from bed, and half blushing at her own
purpose-" I have been cold to him, and perhaps unjust;
[ will not be ungrateful," she said to herself, " though I
cannot yield to his suit; I will not wait till my father
compels me to receive him as my Valentine for the year,
I will seek him out, and choose him  myself.  1 have
thought other girls bold, when they did something like
this; but I shall thus best please my father, and but discharge the rights due to good Saint Valentine by showing
my gratitude to this brave man."
Hastily slipping on her dress, which, nevertheless, was
left a good deal more disordered than usual, she tripped
down stairs and opened the door of the chamber, in
which, as She had guessed, her lover had passed the hours
after the fray. Catharine paused at the door, and became
half all'aid of executing her purpose, which not only per —
mitted but enjoined the Valentines of the year to begin
their connexion with a kiss of affection.  It was looked
upon as a peculiarly propitious omen, if the one party
could find tile other asleep, and awaken him or her by
performance of this interesting ceremony.
Never wvas a fairer opportunity offered for commencing
this mystic tie, than that which now presented itself to
Catharine. After many and various thoughts, sleep had
at length overcome the stout armourer in the chair in
which he had deposited himself. His features, in repose,
had a more firm  and manly cast than Catharine had
thought, who, having generally seen them fluctuating between shamefacedness and apprehension of her displeasure, had been used to connect with them some idea of
imbecility.
" I-e looks very stern," she said;'" if he should be
angry-and then when he awakes-we are alone-if I
should call Dorothy-if I should wake my father-but
no! it is a thing of custom, and done in all maidenly and
sisterly love and honour.  I will not suppose that Henry




ST,             S pLfAY.
can misconstlrue it, and I will not let a childish bashfIlness p-t my gratitude to sleep"
So saying, she tripped along the floor of the apartment
with a light, though hesitating step, and a cheek crimsoned
at her own purpose; and gliding to the chair of the
sleeper, dropped a kiss upon his lips as light as if a roseleaf had fallen on them.  Thile slumbers must have been
slight which such a touch could dispel, and the dreams of
the sleeper must needs have been connected with the cause
of the interruption, since Henry, instantly starting up,
caught the maiden in his arms, and attempted to return in
ecstasy the salute which had broken his repose. But
Catharine struggled in his embrace; and as her efflbrts
implied alarmed modesty, rather than maidenly coyness,
her bashful lover suffered her to escape a grasp, from
which twenty times her strength could not have extricated
her.
"Nay, be not angry, good Henry," said Catharine, in
the kindest tone, to her surprised lover.  "I have paid
my vows to Saint Valentine, to show how I value the mate
which he has sent me for the year. Let but my father
be present, and I will not dare to refuise thee the revenge
you may claim for a broken sleep."
" Let not that be a hinderance," said the old Glover,
rushing in ecstasy into the room —" to her, Smith-to her
-strike while the iron is hot, and teach her what it is not
to let sleeping dogs lie still."
Thus encouraged, Henry, though perhaps with less
alarming vivacity, again seized the blushing maiden in his
arms, who submitted with a tolerable grace to receive repayment of her salute, a dozen times repeated, and with
an energy very different from that which had provoked
such severe retaliation.  At length, she again extricated
herself from her lover's arms, and, as if frightened and
repenting what she had done, threw herself into a seat,
and covered her face with her hands.' Cheer up, thou silly girl," said her father, "' and be
not ashamed that thou hast made the two happiest men in
Perth, since thy old father is one of them.  Never was




ST. VAL:ENTINE   DAY.              69'3
kiss so well bestowed, and meet it is that it should be
suitably returned. Look up, my darling! look up, and
let me see thee but give one smile.  By my honest word,
the sun that now rises over our fair city shows no sight
that can give me greater pleasure. —Nhlat," he continued,
in a jocose tone, 1" thou thoughtst thou hadst Jamie Keddie'sl9ring, and couldst walk invisible? but not so, my fairy
of the dawning.  Just as I was about to rise, I heard thy
chamber door open, and watched thee down stairs-not
to protect thee against this sleepy-headed Henry, but to
see with my own delighted eyes, my beloved girl do that
which her father most wished.-Come, put down these
foolish hands, and though thou blushest a little, it will only
the better grace St. Valentine's morn, when blushes best
become a maiden's cheek."
As Simon Glover spoke, he pulled away, with gentle
violence, the hands which hid his daughter's face.  She
blushed deeply, indeed, but there was more than maiden's
shame in her face, and her eyes were fast filling with
tears.
" What! weeping, love?" continued her father, —" nay,
nay, this is more than need —Henry, help me to comfort
this little fool."
Catharine made an effort to collect herself and to smile,
but the smile was of a melancholy and serious cast.
" I only meant to say, father," said the Fair Maid of
Perth, with continued exertion, " that in choosing Henry
Gow for my Valentine, and rendering to him the rights
and greeting of the morning, according to wonted custom,
I meant but to show my gratitude to him for his manly
and faithful service, and my obedience to you.-But do
not lead him to think —and, oh, dearest father, do not
yourself entertain an idea, that I meant more than what
the promise to be his faithllful and affectionate Valentine
through the year requires of me."
"~ Ay-ay-ay-ay-we understand it all," said Simon, in the soothing tone which nurses apply to children
-'_ _We understand what the meaning is; enough for
once; enough for once. Thou shalt not be frightened or




70            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
hurried.-Loving, true, and faithful Valentines are ye, ann
the rest as Heaven and opportunity shall permit.  Come,
prithee, hlave done-wring not thy tiny hands, nor fear
farther persecut:ion now.  Thou hast done bravely, excellentlyv-And n10ow, away to Dorothy, and call up the
old sluggard; we must have a substantial breakfast, after
a night of confusion and a morning of joy; and thy hand
will be needed to prepare for us some of these delicate
cakes, which no one can make but thyself; and well hast
thou a right to the secret, seeing who taught it thee.Ah! health to the soul of thy dearest mother," he added,
with a sigh; "' how blithe would she have been to see
this happy St. Valentine's morning!"
Catharine took the opportunity of escape which was
thus given her, and glided from the room.  To Henry it
seemed as if the sun had disappeared from the heaven at
mid-day, and left the world in sudden obscurity.  Even
the high-swelled hopes with which the late incident had
filled him, began to quail, as he reflected upon her altered
demeanour; the tears in her eyes; the obvious fear which
occupied her features; and the pains she had taken to
show, as plainly as delicacy would permit, that the advances which she had made to him were limited to the character with which the rites of the day had invested him.
Her father looked on his fallen countenance with something like surprise and displeasure.
"In the name of good St. John, what has befallen you,
that makes you look as grave as an owl, when a lad of
your spirit, having really such a fancy for this poor girl
as you pretend, ought to be as lively as a lark?"
" Alas, father!" replied the crest-fallen lover, " there
is that written on her brow, which says she loves me vell
enough to be my Valentine, especially since you wish it
-but not well enough to be my wife."
" Now, a plague on thee for a cold, down-hearted
goose-cap," answered the fahner. " I can read a woman's
brow as well, and better than thou; and I can see no
such matter on hers.  What the foui fiend, man! there
thou wast lying like a lord in thy elbow-chair, as sound




s,r. VALENTINE'S DAY.               71
asleep as a judge, when, hadst thou been a l]o er of any
spirit, thou wouldst have been watching the east for the
first ray of the sun.  But there thou layest, snoring, 1
warrant, thinking noutght about her, or anything else; and
the poor girl rises at peep of day, lest any one else should
pick up her most precious and vigilant Valentine, and
wakes thee with a grace, vwhich —so help mie St. 1Macgrider!-would have put life in an anvil; and thou awakest to hone, and pine, and mnoan, as if she had drawn a
hot iron across thy lips! I would to St. John she had sent
old Dorothy on the errand, and bound thee for thy Valentine service to that bundle of dry bones, with never a
tooth in her head.  She were fittest Valentine in Perth
for so craven a wooer.";' As to craven, father," answered the Smith, "' there
are twenty good cocks, whose combs I hlave plucked, can
tell thee if I aml craven or no.  And Heaven knows, that
I would give my good land, held by burgess' tenure, with
smithy, bellows, tongs, anvil, and all, providing it would
make your view of the matter the true oine.  But it is not
of her coyness, or her blushes, that I speak; it is of the
paleness which so soon followed tile red, and chased it
friom her cheeks; and it is of the tears whlich succeeded.
It was like the April shower stealing upon, and obscuring
the fairest dawning that ever beamed over the Tay."
Tutti, taitti," replied the Glover; " neither Rome
nor Perth were built in a day.  Thou last fished salmon
a' thousand times, and mightst have taken a lesson.
When the fish has taken the fly, to pull a hard strain on
the line would snap the tackle to pieces, were it made of
wire.   Ease your hand, man, and let him  rise; take
leisure, and in half-an-hour thou layest him on the bank.
— There is a beginning, as fair as you could wish, unless
you expect the poor wench to come to thy bed-side, as
she did to thy chair; and that is not the fashion of modest maidens. But observe me; after we have had our
breakfast, I will take care thou hast an opportunity to
speak thy mind; only beware thou be neither too backward, nor press her too hard.   Give her line enough;




72            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
but do not slack too fast, and my life for yours upon the
issue."
"Do what I can, fatler,"  answered Henry, " you
will always lay the blame on ne; either that I give too
muchl head, or that 1 strain the tackle. I: would give the
best habergeon I ever wroughlt, that the clificulty in truth
rested with me; for there were then the better chance of
its being removed.  I own, however, 1 aln but an ass in
the trick of bringing about such discourse as is to the
purpose for the occasion."
" Come into the booth with me, my son, and I will fur
nish thee with a fitting theme.  Thou knowest the maiden who ventures to kiss a sleeping man, wins of him a
pair of gloves.  Come to my booth; thou shalt have a
pair of delicate kid-skin, that will exactly suit her hand
and arm.-I was thinking of her poor mother when I
shaped them," added honest Simon, with a sigh; " and
except Catharine, I know not the woman in Scotland
whom they would fit, though I have measured most of the
nigh beauties of the court.  Come with nie, I say, and
thou shalt be provided with a theme to wag thy tongue
upon, providing thou hast courage and caution to stand
by thee in thy wooing."
CHAPTER VI.
Never to man shall Catharine give her hand.
Tamintg of the Shrew.
Tiin  breakfast was served, and the thin soft cakes,
made of flour and honey according to the family receipt,
were not only commended with all the partiality of a
father and a lover, but done liberal justice to in the mode
which is best proof of cake as well as pudding.  They
talked, jested, and laughed   Catharine, too, had recov



ST. VALENTINEI' S DAY.           73
ered her equanimity where the dames and damnsels of the
period were apt to lose theirs-in the kitchen, namely,
and in the superintendence of household affairs, in which
she was an adept.  I question much, if the peruisal of
Seneca for as long a period, would have had equal effect
in composing her mind.
Old Dorothy sat down at the board-end, as was the
homespun fashion of the period; and so much were the
two men amused with their own conversation,-and
Catharine occupied either in attending to them, or with
her own reflections,-that the old woman was the first
who observed the absence of the boy Conachar.
It is true," said the Master Glover; " go call him,
the idle Highland loon. He was not seen last night during the fray neither, at least I saw him not. Did any of
you observe him?"
The reply was negative; and Henry's observation followed,-'" There are times when Highlanders can couch like
their own deer,-ay, and run from danger too as fast. I
have seen them do so myself, for the matter of that."
"-And there are times," replied Simon, " when
King Arthur and his Round Table could not make stand
against them. I wish, Henry, you would speak more
reverently of the Highlanders. They are often in Perth,
both alone and in numbers; and you ought to keep peace
with them, so long as they will keep peace with you."
An answer of defiance rose to Henry's lips, but he
prudently suppressed it.
" Why, thou knowest, father," lie said, smiling, C" that
we handicrafts best love the folks we live by; now, my
craft provides for valiant and noble knights, gentle squires
and pages, stout men-at-arms, and others that wear the
weapons which we make. It is natural I should like the
Ruthvens, the Lindsays, the Ogilvys, the Oliphants, and
so many others of our brave and noble neighbours, who
are sheathed in steel of my making, like so many Paladins, better than those naked, snatching mountaineers
7 VOL. I.




74            ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
who are ever doing us wrong, especially since no five of
each clan have a rusty shirt of mail as old as their brattach;* and that is but the work of the clumsy clan-smith
after all, who is no member of our honourable mlystery,
but simply works at the anvil, where his father wrought
before him.  I say, such people can have no favour in
the eyes of an honest craftsman."
~' Well, well," answered Simon; 6" I prithee let the
matter rest even now, for here comes the loitering boy;
and though it is a holiday morn, I want no more bloody
puddings."
The youth entered accordingly.  His face was pale,
his eyes red; and there was an air of discomposure about
his whole person.  He sat down at the lower end of the
table, opposite to Dorothy, and crossed himself, as if preparing for his morning's meal. As he did not help himself to any food, Catharine offered him a platter containing some of the cakes which had met with such general
approbation.  At first he rejected her offered kindness
rather sullenly; but on her repeating the offer with a
smile of good-will, he took a cake in his hand, broke it,
and was about to eat a morsel, when the effort to swallow
seemed almost too much for him; and though he succeeded, he did not repeat it.
"You have a bad appetite for Saint Valentine's morning, Conachar," said his good-humoured master; "and
yet I think you must have slept soundly the night before,
since I conclude you were not disturbed by the noise of
the scuffle. Why, I thought a lively Glune-amie would have
been at his master's side, dirk in hand, at the first sound
of danger which arose within a mile of us."
" I heard but an indistinct noise," said the youth, his
face glowing suddenly like a heated coal, 6" which I took
for the shout of some merry revellers; and- you are wont
to bid me never open door or window, or alarm the house
on the score of such folly."
Well, well," said Simon; "6 I thought a Highlandet
# Standard.




ST. VAIJENTINE S DAY.              75
would have known better the difference betwixt the clasth
of swords and the twanging on harps, the wild war-cry
and the merry hunts up.  But let it pass, boy; I am glad
thou art losing thy quarrelsome fashions.  Eat thy breakfast, any way, as I have that to employ thee, which requires haste."' I have breakfasted already, and am in haste myself.
I am for the hills.-Have you ally message to my father?"
" None," replied the Glover, in some surprise; "6 but
art thou beside thyself, boy? or what a vengeance takes
thee from the city, like the wing of the whirlwind?'9
" My warning has been sudden," said Conachar, speaking with difficulty; but whether arising from the hesitation incidental to the use of a foreign language, or whether
from some other cause, could not easily be distinguished.
"There is to be a meeting —a great hunting   -" Here
he stopped.
66 And when are you to return from this blessed hunting?" said his master; "that is, if I may make so bold
as to ask."
" I cannot exactly answer," replied the apprentice.
"Perhaps never-if such be my father's pleasure," continued Conachar, with assumed indifference.
"6 I thought," said Simon Glover, rather seriously, " that
all this was to be laid aside, when at earnest intercession
I took you under my roof. I thought that when I undertook, being very loath to do so, to teach you an honest
trade, we were to hear no more of hunting, or hosting,
or clan-gatherings, or any matters of the kind?"
" I was not consulted when I was sent hither," said the
lad, haughtily.  " I cannot tell what the terms were."
" But I can tell you, Sir Conachar," said the Glover,
angrily, "' that there is no fashion of honesty in binding
yourself to an honest craftsman, and spoiling more hides
than your own is worth; and now, when you are of age
to be of some service, in taking up the disposal of your
time at your pleasure, as if it were your own property.ot your master's."




76             ST. VALENTINE IS DAY.' "Reckon with my father about that," answered Conachar; he will pay you gallantly-a French mutton* for
every hide I have spoiled, and a fat cow or bullock for
each day I have been absent."
c" Close with him, friend Glover-close with him," said
the armourer, dryly.  " Thou wilt be paid gallantly at
least, if not honestly.  IMethinks I would like to know how
many purses have been emptied to fill tile goatskin sporran,t that is to be so free to you of its gold, and whose
pastures the bullocks have been calved in, that are to be
sent down to you from the Grampian passes."
"; You remind me, friend," said the Highland youth,
turning haughtily towards the Smith, "6 that I have also a
reckoning to hold with you."
"c Keep at arm's-length, then," said Henry, extending
his brawny armnn,-"   will have no more close hugs-no
more bodkin work, like last night.  I care little for a
wasp's sting, yet I will not allow the insect to come near
me if I have warning."
Conachar smiled contemptuously.  " I meant thee no
harm," he said.  " IMy father's son did thee but too much
honour to spill such churl's blood. I will pay you for it
by the drop, that it may be dried up, and no longer soil
my fingers.";' Peace, thou bragging ape!" said the Smith; "the
blood of a true man cannot be valued in gold. The only
expiation would be that thou shouldst come a mile into
the Low Country with two of the strongest gallo-glasses
of thy clan; and while I dealt with them, I would leave
thee to the correction of my apprentice, little Jankin."
Here Catharine interposed.  6" Peace," she said, " my
trusty Valentine, whom I have a right to command; and
peace you, Conachar, who ought to obey me as your mas* Mn2ton, a French gold coin, so called from its being impressed with the
image of a lamb.
t Tlhe Highland pouch, generally formed of goatskin, and worn in fiont
ef the garb, is called in Gaelic a Sporran. A sporran-mnoullach is a shaggy
Pouch, formed, as they usually are, of goatskin, or some such material, wilk
Ile rough side outermost.




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               77
ter's daughter. It is ill done to awaken again on the
morrow the evil which has been laid to sleep at night."'Farewell, then, master," said Conachar, after another
look of scorn at the Smith, whtich he only answered with
a laugh, " Farewell! and I thank you for your kindness,
which has been more than I deserved.  If I have at times
seemed less than thankful, it was the fault of circumstances, and not of my will.  Catharine —— " He cast upon
the maiden a look of strong emotion, in which various
feelings were blended.  He hesitated, as if to say something, and at length turned away with the single word farewell.  Five minutes afterwards, with Highland buskins on
his feet, and a small bundle in his hand, he passed through
the north gate of Perth, and directed his course to the
Highlands.
" There goes enough of beggary and of pride for a
whole Highland clan," said Henry.  "He talks as familiarly of gold pieces as I would of silver pennies; and yet
I will be sworn that the thumb of his mother's worsted
glove might hold the treasure of the whole clan."
" Like enough," said the Glover, laughing at the idea;'" his mother was a large-boned woman, especially in the
fingers and wrist."
" And as for cattle," continued Henry, " I reckon his
father and brothers steal sheep by one at a time."
" The less we say of them the better," said the Glover,
becoming again grave.  " Brothers he hath none; his
father is a powerful man-hath long hands-reaches as
far as he can, and hears farther than it is necessary to talk
of him."''And yet he hath bound his only son apprentice to a
glover in Perth?" said Henry.  "  Vllhy, I should have
thought the Gentle Craft, as it is called, of St. Crispin,
would have suited him best; and that if the son of some
great Mac or O was to become an artizan, it could only
be in the craft where princes set him the example."
This remark, though ironical, seemed to awaken our
friend Simon's sense of professional dignity, which was a
7V VOL. I.




s8            ST. VALtENTINE' S DAY.
prevailing feeling that marked the manners of the artizans
of the time.
" You err, son Henry," he replied, with much gravity;
" the glovers are the more honourable craft of the two,
in regard they provide for the accommodation of the
hands, whereas the shoemakers and cordwainers do but
work for the feet."20
" Both equally necessary members of the body corporate," said Henry, whose father had been a cordwainer.
~" It may be so, my son," said the Glover; " but not
both alike honourable. Bethink you, that we employ the
hands as pledges of friendship and good faith, and the feet
have no such privilege. Brave men fight with their hands
-cowards employ their feet in flight. A glove is borne
aloft, a shoe is trampled in the mire;-a man greets a
friend with his open hand; he spurns a dog, or one whom
he holds as mean as a dog, with his advanced foot. A
glove on the point of a spear is a sign and pledge of faith
all the wide world over, as a gauntlet flung down is a gage
of knightly battle; while I know no other emblem  belonging to an old shoe, except that some crones will fling
them after a man by way of good luck, in which practice
I avow myself to entertain no confidence."
6" Nay," said the Smith, amused with his friend's eloquent pleading for the dignity of the art he practised. " I
am not the man, I promise you, to disparage the glover's
mystery. Bethink you, I am myself a maker of gauntlets.
But the dignity of your ancient craft removes not my
wonder, that the father of this Conachar suffered his son
to learn a trade of any kind from a Lowland craftsman,
holding us, as they do, altogether beneath their magnificent degree, and a race of contemptible drudges, unworthy of any other fate than to be ill used and plundered
as often as these bare-breeched Dunniewassals see safety
and convenience for doing so."
" Ay," answered the Glover, " but there were povser.,
fiul reasons for-for —— " He withheld something wlhmch
seemed upon his lips, and went on, "for Conachar's fathei
acting as he did.-Well, I have played fair with him, and




ST. VALENTINE S DAri.              79
J do not doubt but he will act honourably by me.-But
Conachar's sudden leave-taking has put me to some inconvenience.  He had things under his charge.  I must
look through the booth."' Can I help you, father?" said Henry Gow, deceived
by the earnestness of his manner.
" You? —no," said Simon, with a dryness which made
Henry so sensible of the simplicity of his proposal, that
lie blushed to the eyes at his own dullness of comprehension, in a matter where love ought to have induced him
to take his cue easily up.  " You, Catharine," said the
Glover, as he left the room,' entertain your Valentine
for five minutes, and see he departs not till my return.Come hither with me, old Dorothy, and bestir thy limbs
in my behalf."
He left the room, followed by the old woman; and
Henry Smith remained with Catharine, almost for the first
time in his life, entirely alone.  There was embarrassment on the maiden's part, and awkwardness on that of
the lover, for about a minute; when Henry, calling up his
courage, pulled the gloves out of his pocket with which
Simon had supplied him, and asked her to permit one
who had been so highly graced that morning, to pay the
usual penalty for being asleep at the moment when he
would have given the slumbers of a whole twelvemonth
to be awake for a single minute.
" Nay, but," said Catharine,," the fulfilment of my
homage to St. Valentine infers no such penalty as you
desire to pay, and I cannot therefore think of accepting
them."
6' These gloves," said Henry, advancing his seat insidiously towards Catharine as he spoke, " were wrought by
the hands that are dearest to you; and see —they are
shaped for your own." He extended them as he spoke,
and taking her arm in his robust hand, spread the gloves
beside it to show how well they fitted.  " Look at that
taper arm," he said, "1 look at these small fingers; think
who sewed these seams of silk and gold, and think whether the glove, and the arm which alone the glove can fit,




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
oughlt to remain separate, because the poor glove has had
thle misfortune to be for a passing minute in the keeping
of a hand so swart and rough as mine."
" They are welcome as coming from my father," said
Catharine; " and surely not less so as coming from my
friend, (and there was an emphasis on the word,) as well
as my Valentine and preserver."
" Let me aid to do them on," said the Smith, bringing
himself yet closer to her side; "they may seem a little
over-tight at first, and you may require some assistance."
" You are skilful in such service, good Henry Gow,"
said the maiden, smiling, but at the same time drawing
farther from her lover.
", In good faith no," said Henry, shaking his head;
" my experience has been in donning steel gauntlets on
mailed knights, more than in fitting embroidered gloves
upon maidens."
"I will trouble you then no further, and Dorothy shall
aid me-though there needs no assistance-my father's
eye and fingers are faithful to his craft; what work he
puts through his hands is always true to the measure."
" Let me be convinced of it," said the Smith; "let
me see that these slender gloves actually match the hands
they were made for."
" Some other time, good Henry," answered the maiden; "I will wear the gloves in honour of St. Valentine,
and the mate he has sent me for the season. I would to
heaven I could pleasure my father as well in weightier
matters —at p esent the perfuime of the leather harms the
headach. have had since morning."' Headach! dearest maiden?" echoed her lover.
"If you call it heart-ache, you will not misname it," said
Catharine, with a sigh, and proceeded to speak in a very
serious tone.  " Henry," she said, " I am going perhaps
to be as bold as I gave you reason to think me this rnorning; for I am about to speak the first upon a subject, on
which, it may well be, I ought to wait till I had to answer
you. But I cannot, after what has happened this morning,
suffer my feelings towards you to remain unexplained,




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.               81
without the possibility of my being greatly misconceived.
-Nay, do not answer till you have heard me out.-You
are brave, Henry, beyond most men, honest and true as
the steel you work upon-    "
" Stop-stop, Catharine, for mercy's sake! You never
said so much that was good concerning me, save to introduce some bitter censure, of which your praises were the
harbingers.  I am honest, and so forth, you would say, but
a hot-brained brawler, and common sworder or stabber."
" I should injure both myself and you in calling you
such. No, Henry, to no common stabber, had he worn
a plume in his bonnet, and gold spurs on his heels, would
Catharine Glover have offered the little grace she has this
day voluntarily done to you. If I have at times dwelt
severely upon the proneness of your spirit to anger, and
of your hand to strife, it is because I would have you, if
I could so persuade you, hate in yourself the sins of vanity
and wrath, by which you are most easily beset. I have
spoken on the topic more to alarm your own conscience,
than to express my opinion. I know as well as my father,
that in these forlorn and desperate days, the whole customs of our nation, nay, of every Christian nation, may
be quoted in favour of bloody quarrels for trifling causes;
of the taking deadly and deep revenge for slight offences;
and the slaughter of each other for emulation of honour,
or often in mere sport.  But I know, that for all these
things we shall one day be called into judgment; and fain
would I convince thee, my brave and generous friend, to
listen oftener to the dictates of thy good heart, and take
less pride in the strength and dexterity of thy unsparing
arm."
"I am —-I am convinced, Catharine," exclaimed Henry; " thy words shall henceforward be a law to me. I
have done enough, far too much, indeed, for proof of my
bodily strength and courage; but it is only from you,
Catharine, that I can learn a better way of thinking. Remember, my fair Valentine, that my ambition of distinction
in arms, and my love of strife, if it can be called such, do
not fight even-handed with my reason and my milder dis



62            ST. VAJIENTINE, S DAY.
positions, but have their patrons and sticklers to egg them
on.  Is there a quarrel, —and suppose that I, thinking on
your counsels, am something loath to engage in it,-believe
you I am left to decide between peace or war at my own
choosing? Not so, by St. Mlary! there are a hundred
round me to stir me on.  I Why, how now, Smith, is thy
mainspring rusted?' says one.' Jolly Henry is deaf on
the quarrelling ear this morning,' says another.' Stand
to it, for the honour of Perth,' says my Lord the Provost.
Harry against them for a gold noble,' cries your fathller,
perhaps.  Nov, what can a poor fellow do, Catharine,
when all are hallooing him on in the devil's name, and not
a soul putting in a word on the other side?"
"~ Nay, I know the devil has factors enough to utter his
wares,"' said Catharine; " but it is our duty to despise
such idle arguments, though they may be pleaded even by
those to whom we owe much love and honour."
" Then there are the minstrels, with their romaunts and
ballads, which place all a man's praise in receiving and
repaying hard blows. It is sad to tell, Catharine, how
many of my sins that Blind Harry the Minstrel hath to
answer for. When I hit a downright blow, it is not, (so
save me, St. John!) to do any man injury, but only to
strike as William Wallace struck."
The Minstrel's namesake spoke this in such a tone of
rueful seriousness, that Catharine could scarce forbear
smiling; but nevertheless she assured him that the danger
of his own and other men's lives ought not for a moment
to be weighed against such simple toys.' Ay, but," replied Henry, emboldened by her snliles,
" methinks now the good cause of peace would thrive all
the better for an advocate.  Suppose, for example, that
when I am pressed and urged to lay hand on my weapon,
I could have cause to recollect that there was a gentle and
guardian angel at home, whose image would seem to
whisper,' Henry, do no violence; it is my hand which you
crimson with blood-Henry, rush upon no idle danger;
it is my breast which you expose to injury;' such thoughts
would do more to restrain my mood, than if every monk




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               83
m Perth should cry' Hold thy hand, on pain of bell,
Dook, and candle."'"
" If such a warning as could be given by the voice of
sisterly affection can have weight in the debate," said
Catharine, " do think, that in striking, you empurple this
hand; that in receiving wounds, you harm this heart."
The Smith took courage at the sincerely affectionate
tone in which these words were delivered.
"And wherefore not stretch your regard a degree beyond these cold limits? Why, since you are so kind and
generous as to own some interest in the poor ignorant sinner before you, should you not at once adopt him as your
scholar and your husband? Your father desires it; the
town expects it; glovers and smiths are preparing their
rejoicing; and you, only you, whose words are so fair and
so kind, you will not give your consent!"
"Henry," said Catharine, in a low  and tremulous
voice, " believe me I should hold it my duty to comply
with my father's commands, were there not obstacles in
vincible to the match which he proposes."'" Yet think-think but for a moment. I have little to
say for myself in comparison of you, who can both read
and write.  But then I wish to hear reading, and could
listen to your sweet voice for ever. You love music, and
I have been taught to play and sing as well as some minstrels. You love to be charitable, I have enough to give,
and enough to keep; as large a daily alms as a deacon
gives would never be missed by me. Your father gets
old for daily toil; he would live with us, as I should truly
hold him for my father also.  I would be as chary of
mixing in causeless strife, as of thrusting my hand into
my own furnace; and if there came on us unlawful violence, its wares would be brought to an ill-chosen market."
"' May you experience all the domestic happiness which
you can conceive, Henry,-but with some one more hapny than I am!"
So spoke, or rather so sobbed, the Fair Maiden of Perth,
who seemed choking in the attempt to restrain her tears
"' You hate me, then?" said the lover, after a pause




84            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
" Heaven is my witness, No."
" Or you love some other better?"
" It is cruel to ask what it cannot avail you to know
But you are entirely mistaken."
" Yon wild-cat, Conachar, perhaps?" said Henry. "I
have marked his looks    "
"' You avail yourself of this painful situation to insult
me, Henry, though I have little deserved it. Conachar
is nothing to me, more than the trying to tame his wild
spirit by instruction might lead me to take some interest
in a mind abandoned to prejudices and passions, and
therein, Henry, not unlike your own."
"It must then be some of these flaunting silk-worm
Sirs about the court," said the armourer, his natural heat
of temper kindling from  disappointment and vexation;
" some of those who think they carry it off through the
height of their plumed bonnets and the jingle of their
spurs.  I would I knew which it was, that, leaving his
natural mates, the painted and perfumed dames of the
court, comes to take his prey among the simple maidens
of the burgher craft.  I would I knew but his name and
surname!"
" Henry Smith," said Catharine, shaking off the weakness which seemed to threaten to overpower her a moment
before, " this is the language of an ungrateful fool, or
rather of a frantic madman.  I have told you already,
there was no one who stood, at the beginning of this conference, more high in my opinion, thnanl he who is now
losing ground with every word he utters, in the tone of
unjust suspicion and senseless anger.  You had no title
to know even what I have told you; which, I pray you
to observe, implies no preference to you over others,
though it disowns any preference of another to you.  It
Is enough you should be aware that there is as insuperable
an objection to what you desire, as if an enchanter had a
spell over my destiny."''; Spells may be broken by true men," said the Smith.
"I would it were come to that.  Thorbiorn, the Danish
mrnlourer, spoke of a spell he had for making breastplates,




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              85
by singing a certain song while the iron was heating. I
told him that his runic rhymes were no proof against the
weapons which fought at Loncarty-what farther came of
it, it is needless to tell;-but the corslet and the wearer,
and the leech who salved his wound, know if Henry Gow
can break a spell or no."
Catharine looked at him as if about to return an answer
little approving of the exploit he had vaunted, which the
downright Smith had not recollected, was of a kind that
exposed him to her frequent censure. But ere she had
given words to her thoughts, her father thrust his head in
at the door.
" Henry," he said, " I must interrupt your more pleasing affairs, and request you to come into my working
room in all speed, to consult about certain matters deeply
affecting the weal of the burgh."
Henry, making his obeisance to Catharine, left the
apartment upon her father's summons.  Indeed it was
probably in favour of their future friendly intercourse that
they were parted on this occasion, at the turn which the
conversation seemed likely to take.  For as the wooer
had begun to hold the refusal of the damsel as somewhat
capricious and inexplicable after the degree of encouragement, which, in his opinion, she had afforded; Catharine, on the other hand, considered him  rather as an
encroacher upon the grace which she had shown him,
than one whose delicacy rendered him deserving of such
favour.
But there was living in their bosoms towards each
other a reciprocal kindness, which on the termination of
the dispute was sure to revive, inducing the maiden to
forget her offended delicacy, and the lover his slighted
warmth of passion.
8 VOL. I.




86            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
CHAPTER VII.
This quarrel blood another day will drink.
HIenry VI. Part I.
THE conclave of citizens appointed to meet for investigating the affray of the preceding evening, had now assembled. The work-room of Simon Glover was filled
to crowding by personages of no little consequence, some
of whom wore black velvet cloaks, and gold chains around
their necks. They were, indeed, the fathers of the city;
and there were bailies and deacons in the honoured
number. There was an ireful and offended air of importance upon every brow, as they conversed together, rather in whisper, than aloud or in detail.  Busiest among
the busy, the little important assistant of the previous
night, Oliver Proudfute by name, and bonnet-maker by
profession, was bustling among the crowd; much after
the manner of the sea-gull, which flutters, screams, and
sputters most at the commencement of a gale of wind,
though one can hardly conceive what the bird has better
to do than to fly to its nest, and remain quiet till the gale
is over.
Be that as it may, Master Proudfute was in the midst
of the crowd, his fingers upon every one's button, and
his mouth in every man's ear, embracing such as were
near to his own stature, that he might more closely and
mysteriously utter his sentiments; and standing on tiptoe,
and supporting himself by the cloak-collars of tall men,
that he might dole out to them also the same share of information.  He felt himself one of the heroes of the
affair, being conscious of the dignity of superior information on the subject as an eye-witness, and much disposed
to push his connexion with the scuffle a few points beyond
the modesty of truth. Itcannotbe said that his eommunica



ST. VALENTINEIS DAY.              87
tions were in especial curious and important, consisting
chiefly of such assertions as these:'" it is all true, by St. John. I was there and saw it
myself —-was the first to run to the fray; and if it had
not been for me and another stout fellow, who came in
about the same time, they had broken into Simon Glover's
house, cut his throat, and carried his daughter off to the
mountains. It is too evil usage-not to be suffered, neighbour Crookshank,-not to be endured, neighlbour Glass
-not to be borne, neighbours Balneaves, Rollock, and
Chrysteson.  It was a mercy that I and that stout fellow
came in-Was it not, neighbour and worthy Bailie Craigdallie?"
These speeches were dispersed by the busy bonnetmaker into sundry ears.  Bailie Craigdallie, a portly
guild-brother, the same who had advised the prorogation
of their civic council to the present place and hour, a big,
burly, good-looking man, shook the deacon from his cloak
with pretty much the grace with which a large horse
shrugs off the importunate fly that has beset him for ten
minutes, and exclaimed, "; Silence, good citizens; here
comes Simon Glover, in whom no man ever saw falsehood. We will hear the outrage from his own mouth."
Simon being called utpon to tell his tale, did so with
obvious embarrassment, which he imputed to a reluctance
that the burgh should be put in deadly feud with any one
upon his account. It was, he dared to say, a masking or
revel on the part of the young gallants about court; and
the worst that might come of it would be, that he would
put iron stanchions on his daughter's window, in case of
such another frolic.
" Why, thel, if this was a mere masking or mummery,"
said Craigdallie, " our townsman, Harry of the Wynd,
did far wrong to cut off a gentleman's hand for such a
harmless pleasantry, and the town may be brought to a
heavy fine for it, unless we secure the person of the mu
tilator."
"Our Lady forbid," said the Glover.  "Did you
know what I do, you would be as much afraid of band




88            ST. VALENTINE'  S DAY..ing this matter, as if it were glowing iron.  But, since
you will needs put your fingers in the fire, truth must be,
spoken.  And come what will, I must say, that the mnatter might have ended ill for me and mine, but for the opportune assistance of Henry Gow, the armourer, well
known to you all."
" And mine also was not awanting," said Oliver Proudfute, 1" though I do not profess to be utterly so good a
swordsman as our neighbour, Henry Gow.-You saw me,
neighbour Glover, at the beginning of the fray?"
" I saw you after the end of it, neighbour," answered
the Glover, dryly.
"' True, true; I had forgot you were in your house
while the blows were going, and could not survey who
were dealing them."
" Peace, neighbour Proudfute; I prithee, peace," said
Craigdallie, who was obviously tired of the tuneless
screeching of the worthy deacon.
"There is something mysterious here," said the Bailie; "but I think I spy the secret.  Our fiiend Simon is,
as you all know, a peaceful man, and one that will rather
sit down with wrong, than put a friend, or say a neighbourhood, in danger, to seek his redress.  Thou, Henry,
who art never wanting where the burgh needs a defender.
tell us what thou knowest of this matter."
Our Smith told his story to the same purpose which we
have already related; and the meddling maker of bonnets added as before,' "And thou sawest me there, honest Smith, didst thou not?"
" Not I, in good faith, neighbour," answered Henlry
b" hut you are a little man, you know, and I might over-'ook you."
This reply produced a laugh at Oliver's expense, who
laughed for company, but added, doggedly," I was one
of the foremost to the rescue for all that."
" Why, where wert thou then, neighbour?" said the
Smith; " for I saw you not, and I would have given the
worth of the best suit of armtour I ever wrought to havw
seen as stout a fellow as thou at my elbow."




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.                8}9
"I was no farther off, however, honest Smith * and
whilst thou wert laying on blows as if on an anvil, I wa~
parrying those that the rest of the villains aimed at thee
behind thy back; and that is the cause thou sawest me
not."
" I have heard of Smith's of old time who had but one
eye," said Henry.'6 I have two, but they are both set
in my forehead, and so I could not see belind my back,
neighbour."
L' The truth is, however," persevered Master Oliver,
s there I was, and I will give MiIaster Bailie my account of
the matter; for the Smith and I were first up to the fray."
" Enough at present," said the Bailie, waving to MI'aster Proudfute an injunction of silence.  " The precognition of Simon Glover and Henry Gow would bear out a
matter less worthy of belief.-And now, my masters, your
opinion what should be done.  Here are all our burgher
rights broken through and insulted, and you may well
fancy that it is by some man of power, since no less dared have attempted such an outrage.'ly masters, it is
bard on flesh and blood to submit to this.  The laws have
framed us of lower rank than the princes and nobles, yet
it is against reason to suppose that we will suffer our houses
to be broken into, and the honour of our women insulted,
without some redress."
" It is not to be endured,"' answered the citizens, unanimously.
Here Simon Glover interfered with a very anxious and
ominous countenance.  " I hope still that all was not
meant so ill as it seemed to us, my worthy neighbour s;
and I for one would cheerfully forgive the alarm and disturbance to my poor house, providing the fair city were
not brought into jeopardy for me.  I beseech you to con
sider who are to be our judges that are to hear the case,
and give or refuse redress.  I speak among neighbours
and friends, and therefore I speak openly.  The King,
God bless him! is so broken in mind and body, that le
will but turn us over to some great man amongst his coun87 V VOL. I.




90            ST. VALENTINE IS DAY.
sellors, who shall be in favour for the time-Perchance
he will refer us to his brother the Duke of Albany, who
will make our petition for righting of our wrongs the pretence for squeezing money out of us."
" We will none of Albany for our judge," answered
the meeting with the same unanimity as before.
Or perhaps," added Simon, "' he will bid the Duke
of Rothsay take charge of it; and the wild young prince
will regard the outrage as something for his gay compan-.ons to scoff at, and his minstrels to turn into song."
"Away with Rothsay! he is too gay to be our judge,"
again exclaimed the citizens.
Simon, emboldened by seeing he was reaching the
point he aimed at, yet pronouncing the dreaded name
with a half whisper, next added,    Would you like the
Black Douglas better to deal with?"
There was no answer for a minute.  They looked on
each other with fallen countenances and blanched lips.
But Henry Smith spoke out boldly, and in a decided
voice, the sentiments which all felt, but none else dared
give words toh' The Black Douglas to judge betwixt a burgher and
a gentleman, nay, a nobleman for all I know or care?The black devil of hell sooner! You are mad, Father
Simon, so much as to name so wild a proposal."
There was again a silence of fear and uncertainty,
which was at length broken by Bailie Craigdallie, who,
looking very significantly to the speaker, replied, " You
are confident in a stout doublet, neighbour Smith, or you
would not talk so boldly."
"1 I am confident of a good heart under my doublet,
such as it is, Bailie," answered the undaunted Henry;
C; and though I speak but little, my mouth shall never be
padlocked by any noble of them all."'" Wear a thick doublet, good Henry, or do not speak
so loud,"' reiterated the Bailie, in the same significant
tone.  6" There are Border men in the town who wear
the bloody heartl on their shoulder.-But all this is no
rede.  fWhlat shall we do?"




ST. VALENTINEFS DAY.               91
"Short rede, good rede," said the Smith.'" Let us to
iur Provost, and demand his countenance and assistance."
A murmur of applause went through the party, and
Oliver Proudfute exclaimed, " That is what I have been
saying for this half hour, and not one of ye would listen
to me. Let us go to our Provost, said I. He is a gentleman himself, and ought to come between the burgh
and the nobles in all matters."'C Hush, neighbours, hush; be wary what you say or
do." said a thin meagre figure of a man, whose diminutive person seemed still more reduced in size, and more
assimilated to a shadow, by his efforts to assume an extreme degree of humility, and make himself, to suit his
argument, look meaner yet, and yet more insignificant
than nature had made him.
" Pardon me," said he; " I am but a poor Pottingar.
Nevertheless, I have been bred in Paris, and learned my
humanities and my cursus medendi as well as some that
call themselves learned leeches. AMethinks I can tent this
wound, and treat it with emollients. Here is our friend
Simon Glover, who is, as you all know, a man of worship.
Think you he would not be the most willing of us all to
pursue harsh courses here, since his family lhonour is so
nearly concerned? And since he blenches away from the
charge against these same revellers, consider if hlie may
not have some good reason more than he cares to utter
for letting the matter sleep. It is not for me to put my
finger on the sore; but, alack! we all know that young
maidens are what I call fugitive essences. Suppose now,
an honest maiden-I mean in all innocence- leaves her
window unlatched on St. Valentine's morn, that some
gallant cavalier may-in all honesty, I mean-become
her Valentine for the season; and suppose the gallant be
discovered, may she not scream out as if the visit were
unexpected, and-and-bray all this in a mortar, and
then consider, will it be a matter to place the town in
feud for?"
The Pottingar delivered his opinion in a most insinuating manner; but he seemed to shrink into something




92            ST. YALENTINE S DAY.
less than his natural tenuity when he saw the blood rise
in the old cheeks of Simon Glover, and inflame to the
temples the complexion of the redoubted Smith.  The
last, stepping forward, and turning a stern look on the
alarmed Pottingar, broke out as follows: —  Thou walking skeleton! thou asthmatic gallipot! thou poisoner by
profession! if I thought that the puff of vile breath thou
hast left could blight for the tenth part of a minute the fair
fame of Catharine Glover, I would pound thee, quacksalver! in thine own mortar, and beat up thy wretched carrion with flower of brimstone, the only real medicine in
thy booth, to make a salve to rub mangy hounds with!'
" Hold, son Henry, hold!" cried the Glover, in a tone
of authority,-" no man has title to speak of this matter
but me.-Worshipful Bailie Craigdallie, since such is the
construction that is put upon my patience, I am willing
to pursue this riot to the uttermost; and though the issue
may prove that we had better have been patient, you will
all see that my Catharine hath not by any lightness or
folly of hers afforded grounds for this great scandal."
The Bailie also interposed.  " Neighbour Henry,"
said he, " we came here to consult, and not to quarrel.
As one of the fathers of the fair city, I command thee to
forego all evil will andmal-talent you may have against
3Master Pottingar Dwining."
"He is too poor a creature, Bailie," said Henry Gow,
" for me to harbour feud with-I that could destroy him
and his booth with one blow of my fore-hammer."
cc Peace, then, and hear me," said the official.  " We
all are as much believers in the honour of the Fair Maiden
of Perth, as in that of our Blessed Lady."  Here he
crossed himself devoutly.'" But touching our appeal to
our Provost, are you agreed, neighbohursto put matter
like this into our Provost's hand, being against a powerful
noble, as is to be feared?"
" The Provost being himself a nobleman-" squeaked
the Pottingar, in some measure released from his terror
by the intervention of the Bailie.  " God knows, I speak
not to the disparagement of an honourable gentleman,




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               93
whose forebears have held the office he now holds for
many years  -"
" By free choice of the citizens of Perth," said the
Smith, interrupting the speaker with the tones of his deep
and decisive voice.
" Ay, surely," said the disconcerted orator, "' by the
voice of the citizens.  How else?-I pray you, friend
Smith, interrupt me not.  I speak to our worthy and
eldest Bailie, Craigdallie, according to my poor mind. 1
say that, come amongst us how he will, still this Sir Patrick Charteris is a nobleman, and hawks will not pick
hawks' eyes out.  He may well bear us out in a feud
with the Highllandmen, and do the part of our Provost
and leader against them; but whether he that himself
wears silk will take our part against broidered cloak and
cloth of gold, though he may do so against tartan and Irish
frieze, is something to be questioned. Take a fool's advice.  We have saved our Maiden, of whom I never
meant to speak harm, as truly I knew none.  They have
lost one man's hand at least, thanks to Harry Smith  "'
" And to me," added the little important bonnet-maker.
" And to Oliver Proudfute, as he tells us," continued
the Pottingar, who contested no man's claim to glory,
provided he was not himself compelled to tread the perilous paths which lead to it.  " I say, neighlbours, since
they have left a hand as a pledge they will never come
in Couvrefew street again, why, in my simple mind, we
were best to thank our stout townsman, and the town
having the honour, and these rake-hells the loss, that we
should hush the matter up, and say no more about it."
These pacific counsels had their effect with some of
the citizens, who began to nod and look exceedingly wise
upon the advocate of acquiescence, with whom, notwithstnclding the offence so lately given, Simon Glover seemed also to agree in opinion.  But not so Henry Smith,
who, seeing the consultation at a stand, took tup the speech
in his usual downright manner.'6 I am neither the oldest nor the richest among you,
neighbours, and I am not sorry for it. Years will come,




D4            ST. VALENTINE S D.tY.
if one lives to see them; and I can win and spend my
penny like another, by the blaze of the furnace and the
wind of the bellows.  But no man ever saw me sit down
with wrong done in word or deed to our fair town, if
man's tongue and man's hand could right it.  Neither
will I sit down with this outrage, if I can help it. I will
go to the Provost myself, if no one will go with me; he is
a knighlt, it is true, and a gentleman of free and true-born
blood, as we all know, since Wallace's time, who settled
his great-grandsire amongst us.  But if' he were the
proudest nobleman in the land, he is the Provost of Perth,
and for his own honour must see the freedoms and immunities of the burgh preserved-ay, and I know he will
--  have made a steel doublet for him, and have a good
guess at the kind of heart that it was meant to cover."
"1 Surely," said Bailie Craigdallie, " it would be to
no purpose to stir at court without Sir Patrick Charteris's
countenance; the ready answer would be, Go to your
Provost, you borrel loons. So, neighbours and townsmen,
if you will stand by my side, I and our Pottingar Dwining will repair presently to Kinfauns, with Sim Glover, the
jolly Smith, and gallant Oliver Proudfute, for witnesses
to the onslaught, and speak with Sir Patrick Chalteris,
in name of the Fair Town."
" Nay," said the peaceful man of medicine,'" leave
me behind, I pray you; I lack audacity to speak before
a belted knight."
" Never regard that, neighlbour, you must go," said
Bailie Craigdallie.  " The town hold me a hot-headed
carle for a man of threescore-Sim Glover is the offended party-we all know that Harry Gow spoils more harness with his sword, than he makes with his hammer —
and our neighbour Proudfute, —who, take his own word,
is at the beginning and end of every fray in Perth,-is
of course a man of action.  We must have at least one
advocate amongst us for peace and quietness; and thou,
Pottingar, must be the man. Away with you, sirs, get
your boots and your beasts —horse and hattock,2Isay



ST. VALENTIN.ES DAY.                95
and let us meet at the East Port-that is, if it is your
pleasure, neighbours, to trust us with the matter."
" Thlere can be no better rede, and we will all avouch
it," said the citizens.  " If the Provost take our part, as
the Fair Town hath a right to expect, we may bell-the-cat
with the best of them."' It is well, then, neighbours," answered the Bailie 
"so said, so shall be done.  Meanwhile, I have called
the whole town-council together about this hour, and I
have little doubt," looking around the company, "1 that
as so many of them who are in this place have resolved
to consult with our Provost, the rest will be compliant to
the same resolution.  And therefore, neighbours, and
good burghers of the fair city of Perth-horse and hattock, as I said before, and meet me at the East Port."
A  general acclamation concluded the sitting of this
species of privy council, or Lords of the Articles, and
they dispersed, the deputation to prepare for the journey,
and the rest to tell their impatient wives and daughters
of the measures they had taken to render their chambers
safe in future, against the intrusion of gallants at unseasonable hours.
While nags are saddling, and the town-council debating, or rather putting in form what the leading members
of their body had already adopted, it may be necessary,
for the information of some readers, to state in distinct
terms what is more circuitously intimated in the course
of the former discussion.
It was the custom at this period, when the strength of
the feudal aristocracy controlled the rights, and frequently
insulted the privileges, of the royal burghs of Scotland,
that the latter, where it was practicable, often chose their
Provost, or Chief Magistrate, not out of the order of the
merchants, shopkeepers, and citizens, who inhabited the
town itself, and filled up the roll of the ordinary magistracy, but elected to that pre-eminent state some powerfill nobleman, or baron, in the neighbourhood of the burgh,,who was expected to stand their friend at court in such
matters as concerned their common weal, and to lead theix




MU            B~ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
civic militia to fight, whether in general battle or in private feud, reinforcing them with his own feudal retainers.
This protection was not always gratuitous.  The Provosts
sometimes availed themselves of their situation to an unjustifiable degree, and obtained grants of lands and tenements belonging to the common good, or public property
of the burgh, and thus made the citizens pay dear for the
countenance which they afforded.  Others were satisfied
to receive the powerful aid of the townsmen in their own
feudal quarrels, with such other marks of respect and
benevolence, as the burgh over which they presided were
willing to gratify them with, in order to secure their active
services in case of necessity. The Baron, who was the
regular protector of a royal burgh, accepted such fireewill offerings without scruple, and repaid them by defending the rights of the town, by arguments in the council,
and by bold deeds in the field.
The citizens of the town, or, as they loved better to
call it, the Fair City of Perth, had for several generations
found a protector and Provost of this kind in the knightly
family of Charteris, Lords of Kinfauns, in the neighbourhood of the burgh.  It was scarce a century (in the time
of Robert 111.) since the first of this distinguished family
had settled in the strong castle which now belonged to
them, with the picturesque and fertile scenes adjoining to
it. But the history of the first settler, chivalrous and romantic in itself, was calculated to facilitate the settlement
of an alien, in the land in which his lot was cast.  We
relate it as it is given by an ancient and uniform tradition,
which carries in it great indications of truth, and is warrant enough, perhaps, for its insertion in graver histories
than the present.
During the brief career of the celebrated patriot Sir
William Wallace, and when his arms had for a time expelled the English invaders from his native country, he is
said to have undertaken a voyage to France, with a small
band of trusty friends, to try what his presence (for he
was respected through all countries for his prowess) might
do to induce the French monarch to send to Scotland a




ST. ~ VAt EL NT RI  S$ DAioY.       97
body of auxiliary forces, or other assistance, to aid the
Scots in regaining their independence.
The Scottish Chatmpion was on board a small vessel,
and steering for the port of Dieppe, when a sail appeared in the distance, which the mariners regarded first withl
doubt and apprehension, and at last with confusion and
dismay.  Wallace demanded to know what was the cause
of their alarm. The captain of the ship informed him,
that the tall vessel which was bearing down, with the purpose of boarding that which he commanded, was the ship
of a celebrated rover, equally famed for his courage,
strength of body, and successful piracies.  It was coninanded by a gentleman named Thomas de Longueville, a
Frenchman by birth, but by practice one of those pirates
woio call themselves friends to the sea, and enemies to all
who sailed upon that element.  He attacked and plundered vessels of all nations, like one of the ancient Norse
Sea-kings, as they were termed, whose dominion was upon
the mountain waves.  The master added, that no vessel
could escape the rover by flight, so speedy was the bark
he commanded; and that no crew, however hardy, could
hope to resist him, when, as was his usual mode of combat,
he threw himself on board at the head of his followers.
Wallace smiled sternly, while the master of the ship,
with alarm in his countenance, and tears in his eyes, described to him the certainty of their being captured by
the Red Rover, a name given to De Longueville, because
ble usually displayed the blood-red flag, which he had now
hoisted.
" I will clear the narrow seas of this rover," said Wallace.
Then calling together some ten or twelve of his own
followers, Boyd, Kerlie, Seton, and others, to whom the
dust of the most desperate battle was like the breath of
life, he commanded them to arm themselves, and lie flat
upon the deck, so as to be out of sight.  He ordered the
mariners below, excepting such as were absolutely necessary to manage the vessel; and he gave the master in
9 VOL. I.




98            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
structions, upon pain of death, so to steer, as that, while
tile vessel had an alppearance of attempting to fly, he
shoult in fact permit tile Red Rover to come up with them
and do his woes Sto  Wallace himself then lay down on the
deck, that nothing mnilight be seen which could intimate
1any Il'urpos of' esistance.  In a quarter of an hour De
Lotigueviite's vessel ran on board that of the Chalmpion,
lland tlhe BRe(l Rover casting out grappling irons to make
sure ol his prize, jumped on the deck in complete armloulr,
Iollowed by his ien, who gave a terrible shout, as if victory had been already secured.  But the armed Scots
started up at once, and the rover found himself unexpectedly engaged with men accustomed to consider victory
as secure, when they were only opposed as one to two or
three.  Wallace himself rushed on the pirate captain,
and a dreadful strife began betwixt theml  with such fury,
that the others suspended their own battle to look on, and
seemed by common consent to refer the issue of the strife
to the fate of the combat between the two chiefs.  The
pirate fought as well as man could do; but Wallace's
strength was beyond that of ordinary mortals.  He dashed
the Sword from the rover's hand, and placed him in such
peril, that, to avoid being cut down, he was fain to close
with the Scottish Champion, in hopes of overpowering
him in the grapple.  In this also he was foiled.  They
fell on the deck, locked in each other's arms, but the
Frenchman feil undermost; and Wallace, fixing his grasp
upon his gorget, compressed it so closely, notwithstanding
it was made of the finest steel, that the blood gushed from
his eyes, nose, and mouth, and he was only able to ask for
quarter by signs.  His men threw down their weapons
and begged for mercy, when they saw their leader this
severely handled.  The victor granted them all their lives,
but took possession of their vessel, and detained therm
prisoners.
When he came in sight of the French harbour, Wallace
alarmed the place by displaying the rover's colours, as if
De Longueville was coming to pillage the town.  The
hells were rung backward; horns were blown, and the




ST. VtALENrINE9sS.TYo               99
citizens were hlurrying to arms, when the scene changed
The Scottish Lion oil his s!lield of GoldNvwas raised above
the piratical flag, and announced that the Chamipion of
Scotland was approaching, like a falcon with his prey in
his clutch. He landed with his prisoner, and carried him
to the court of France, where, at Wallace's request, the:eobberics which the pirate had committed were forgiven,
and the King even conferred the honour of knighthood on
Sir Thomas doe Longueville, and offred to take him into
his service.  But the rover had contracted such a friiend —
ship for his generous victor, that he insisted on uniting his
fortunes with those of Wallace, with whom  he returned
to Scotland, and fought by his side in many a bloody
battle, where the prowess of Sir Thomas doe Longueville
was remarked as inferior to that of none, save of his heroic
conqueror.  His fate also was more fortunate than that
of his patron.  Being distinguished by the beauty as well
as strength of his person, he rendered himself so acceptable to a young lady, heiress of the ancient family of Charteris, that she chose him fobr her husband, bestowing on
limn  with her hand the fair baronial Castle of Kinfauns,
and the domains annexed to it.  Their descendants took
the name of Charteris, as connecting themselves with
their maternal ancestors, the ancient proprietors of the
property, though the name of Thomas de Longueville
was equally honoured amongst them; and the large twohanded sword with which he mowed the ranks of war,
was, and is still, preserved among the family munimentso
Another account is, that the family name of De Longueville himself was Charteris.  The estate afterwards passed to a family of Blairs, and is now the property of Lord
Gray.
These barons of Kinfauns,23ifrom father to son, held, for
several generations, the office of Provost of Perth; the
vicinity of the castle and town rendering it a very convenient arrangement for mutual support.  The Sir Patrick
of this history had more than once led out the men oI
Perth to battles and skirmishes with the restless Highland
ileidredators, and with ot her enemies, foreign and domestic




100            Sr. YA~LE2NTINR; 9 DAY.
True it is, lhe used sometimes to be weary of the slight
andl frivolous comnplaints unnecessarily brought before him,
and in which lie was requested to interest hinmself:  H1ence
he had sometimes incurred the charge of being too proudt
as a nobleman, or too indolent as a man of wealth, and
one who was too much addicted to the pleasures of the
field, and tlle exercise of feudal hospitality, to bestir himself upon all and every occasion when the Fair Town
would have desired his active interference.  But notwitllstanding that this occasioned some slight murmuring,
the citizens, upon any serious cause of alarm, were wont
to rally around their Provost, and were warmly supported
by him both in council and action.
CH-IAPTER VII1.
Within the bounds of Annandale,
Tlhe gentle Johnstones ride;
Th'ley have been there a thousand years,
A thousand more they'll bide.-Old Ballad.
Tns character and quality of Sir Patrick Charteris,
the Provost. of Perth, being such as we have sketched in
tile last chapter, let us now return to the deputation which
was in the act of rendezvousing at the East Port,51inorder
to wait upon that dignitary with their complaints, at Kinfauns.
And first appeared Simon Glover, on a pacing palfrey
which had sometimes enjoyed the honour of bearing the
fairer person as well as the lighter weight of his beautiful
daughter.   His cloa.k was muffled round the lower part
of his face, as a sign to his friends not to interrupt him
by any questions while he passed through the streets, and
partly, perhaps, on account of the coldness of the weather.  The deepest anxiety was seated on his brow, as
if the more he meditated on the matter he was engaged
in, the more difficult and perilous it appeared.  He only
greeted by silent gestures his friends as they came to the
rendezvous.




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.              101
A strong black horse, of the old Galloway breed, of aa
ander size, and not exceeding fourteen hands, but highshouldered, strong-limbed, well-coupled, and round-barrelled, bore to the East Port the gallant Smith. A judge
of the animal might see in his eye a spark of that vicious
temper which is frequently the accompaniment of the
form that is most vigorous and enduring; but the weight,
the hand, and the seat of the rider, added to the late regular exercise of a long journey, had subdued hisstubbornness for the present. He was accompanied by the honest
Bonnet-maker, who, being, as the reader is aware, a little
round man, and what is vulgarly called duck legged,
had planted himself like a red pincushion, (for he was
wrapped in a scarlet cloak, over which he had slung a
hawking-pouch,) on the top of a great saddle, which
he might be said rather to be perched upon than to
bestride. The saddle and the man were girthed on the
ridge-bone of a great trampling Flemish mare; with a
nlose turned up in the air like a camel, a huge fleece of
hair at each foot, and every hoof full as large in circumference as a frying-pan. The contrast between the beast
and the rider was so extremely extraordinary, that whilst
chance passengers contented themselves with wondering
how he got up, his friends were anticipating with sorrow
the perils which must attend his coming down again; for
the high-seated horseman's feet did not by any means
come beneath the laps of the saddle. He had associated
himself to the Smith, whose motions he had watched for
the purpose of joining him; for it was Oliver Proudfute's
opinion, that men of action showed to most advantage
when beside each other; and he was delighted when soma
wag of the lower class had gravity enough to cry out,
without laughing oultrigt, " There goes the pride of Perth
-there go the slashing craftsmen, the jolly Smith of thi,
Wynd, and the bold Bonnet-maker!"
It is true, the fellow who gave this all-hail thrust his
tongue in his cheek to some scape-graces like himself;
but as the Bonnet-maker did not see this by-play, lie generously threw him a silver penny to encourage his respect
9* von. I.




l02           S'T. YAl;ENTI NET S D AY.
for martialists.  Tihis munificence occasioned their being
followed by a crowd of boys, laughing and hallooing, until
Henry Smith, turning back, threatened to switch the foremost of them; a resolution w!hich they did not wait to
see put in execution.
"6 Here are we the witnesses," said the little 1nan on
the large horse, as they joined Simon Glover at the East
Port; " but where are they that should back us?  Ah,
brother Henry! authority is a load for an ass rather than
a spirited horse; it would but clog the motions of such
young fellows as you and me.";" I could well wish to see you bear ever so little of that
same weight, worthy Mlaster Proudfute," replied Henry
Gow, " were it but to keep you firm in the saddle; for
you bounce about as if you were dancing  a jig on your
seat, without any help from your legs."'6Ay, ay; I raise myself' in my stirrups to avoid the
jolting.  She is cruelly hard set this mare of mine; but
she has carried me in field and forest, and through some
passages that were something perilous; so Jezabel and I
part not-I call her Jezabel, after the Princess of Castile.9"
" Isabel, I suppose you mean," answered the Smith.
" Ay-Isabel, or Jeza.bel, all the same, you know. But
here comes Bailie Craigdallie at last, with that poor,
creeping, cowardly creature the Pottingar.  They have
brought two town-officers with their partizans, to guard
their fair persons, I suppose.-If there is one thing I hate
more than another, it is such a sneaking varlet as that
Dwining!'9
" Have a care he does not hear you say so," said the
Smith.  " I tell thee, Bonnet-maker, that there is more
danger in yonder slight wasted anatomy, than in twenty
stout fellows like yourself."
i PshaS! Bully Smith, you are but jesting with me,"
said Oliver,-softening his voice, however, and looking
towards the Pottingar, as if to discover in what limb or
lineament of his wasted face and form lay any appearance
of the menaced dan-ger; and his examination reassuring
lillm, h1  answ.owered boldly, 1" Blades and bucklers, man, I




ST. VALENTINES S DAY.              103
would stand the feud of a dozen such as Dwining.  What
could he do to any man with blood in his veins?"
l' IHe could give himr a dose of physics" answered the
Smith, dryly.
They had no time for furnther colloquy, for Bailie Craigdallie called to them to take the road to Kinfauns, and
himself showed the example.  As they advanced at a
leisurely pace, the discourse turned on the reception which
they were to expect firom their Provost, and the interest
which he was likely to take in the aggression which they
complained of. The Glover seemed particularly despontdingl, and talked more than once, in a-manner which implied
a wish that they would yet consent to let the matter rest.
HIe did not speak out very plainly, however, fearful, perhaps, of the malignant interpretation which might be derived from any appearance of his flinching from the assertion of his daughter's reputation.  Dwining seemed to
agree with him in opinion, but spoke more cautiously than
in the imorning.
" After all," said the Bailie,' mwhen I think of all the
propines and good gifts which have passed from the good
town to my Lord Provost's, I cannot think he will be backward to show himself.  fTore than one lusty boat, laden
with Bourdeaux wine, has left the South Shore to discharge its burden under the Castle of Kinfauns.  I have
some right to speak of that, who was the merchant importer.99' And"'9 said Dwining, with his squeaking   voice,' I
could speak of delicate confections, curious comfits, loaves
of wastel bread, and even cakes of that rare and delicious
condiment which men call sugar, that have gone thither
to help out a bridal banquet, or a kirstening feast, or such
like.  But alack, B ailie Craigdallie, wine is drunk, corn-.
fits are eaten, and the gift is forgotten when the flavour is
past away.  Alas, neighbour! the banquet of last Christmas is gone like the last year's snow."'" But there have been gloves full of gold pieces," saici;he Magistrate.




i 04          ST. VAINE. NTINF S DAY.
"' I should know that who wroughlt them," said Simon
whose professional recollections still mingled with what
ever else might occupy his mind.  " One was a hawking
glove for my lady.  I made it something wide.  Her
ladyship found no fault, in consideration of the intended
lininlg.'
"Well, go to," said Bailie Craigdallie,'" the less I lie;
and if these are not to the fore, it is the Provost's fault,
and not the town's; they could neither be eat nor drunk
in the shape in which he got them."
" I could speak of a brave armour too," said the Smith;
" but, cogan na schie?Sas John Highlandman says, I think
the Knight of Kinfauns will do his devoir by the burgh in
peace or war; and it is needless to be reckoning the
town's good deeds, till we see him thankless for them."
" So say I," cried our friend Proudfute, from the top
of his mare.  "We roystering blades never bear so base
a mind as to count for wine and walnuts with a friend like
Sir Patrick Charteris.  Nay, trust me, a good woodsman
like Sir Patrick will prize the right of hunting and sporting over the lands of the burgh as an high privilege, and
one which, his Mlajesty the King's Grace excepted, is neither granted to Lord nor loon save to our Provost alone."
As the Bonnet-maker spoke, there was heard on the
left hand, the cry of, " So so-waw waw —haw." }Ieing
the shout of a falconer to his hawk.'" ethinks yonder is a fellow using the privilege you
mention, who, from his appearance, is neither King nor
Provost," said the Smith.
"' Ay, marry, I see him," said the Bonnet-maker, who
imagined the occasion presented aprime opportunity to win
honour.  " Thou and I, jolly Smith, will prick toward?
Ilim and put himn to the question."
" Have with you, then," cried the Smith; and his
companion spurred his mare and went off, never doubting
that Gow was at his heels.
But Craigdallie caugbt Henry's horse by the reins.
"' Stand last ny the standard," he said; 6 let us see the




ST. VAILENTINE.S DAY.             105
luck of our light horseman.  If he procures himself a
broken pate, he will be quieter for the rest of the day."
"From what I already see," said the Smith, s" he may
easily come by such a boon.  Yonder fellow who stops
so impudently to look at us, as if he were engaged in the
most lawful sport in the world-I guess him, by his trotting hobbler, his rusty head-piece with the cock's feather,
and long two-handed sword, to be the follower of some
of the southland lords -men who live so near the Southern, that the black jack is never off their backs, and who
are as free of their blows as they are light in their fingers."
Whilst they were thus speculating on the issue of the
rencounter, the valiant Bonnet-maker began to pull up
Jezabel, in order that the Smith, who he still concluded
was close behind, might overtake him, and either advance
first, or at least abreast of himself.  But when he saw
him at a hundred yards' distance, standing composedly
with the rest of the group, the flesh of the champion, like
that of the old( Spanish general, began to tremble, in anticipation of the dangers into which his own venturous
spirit was about to involve it. Yet the consciousness of
being countenanced by the neighbourhood of so many
friends; the hopes that the appearance of such odds must
intimidate the single intruder, and the shame of abandoning
an enterprize in which he had volunteered, and when so
many persons must witness his disgrace, surmounted the
strong inclination which prompted him to wheel Jezabel
to the right about, and return to the friends whose protection he had quitted, as fast as her legs could carry them.
iHe accordingly continued his direction towards the stranger, vwho increased his alarm considerably, by putting his
little nag in motion, and riding to meet him at a brisk trot.
On observing this apparently offensive movement, our here
looked over his left shoulder more than once, as if reconnoitring the ground for a retreat, and in the meanwhile
came to a decided halt.  But the Philistine was upon him
ere the Bonnet-maker could decide whether to fight or fly,
and a very ominous-looking Philistine he was.  His figtire was gaunt and lathy, his visage marked by two or




106            ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
three ill-favoured scars, and the whole man had mutch tlle
air of one accustomed to say, 6C Stand and deliver," to a
true nman.
Th.-is individual began tile discourse, by exclaiming, in
to)nes as sinister as lls looks, —   The devil catch you for
a cuckOO, whly do you r'ide across the moor to spoil my
sport?"3
W6 torthy strang.-er," said our friend, in the tone of pacific remonstrance, "1 I am Oliver Proudfute, a burgess
of Perth, and a man of substance; and yonder is the
worshipful Adam  Craigdallie, the oldest Bailie of the
burgh,  with the fighllting  Smith of the Wynd, and three or
four armed meni nor a, who desire to know your name,
and how you comne to take your pleasure over these lands
belonging to the burgh of Pertl-although, natheless, I
will answer for them, it is not their wish to quarrel with
a gentleman, or stranger, for any accidental trespass
only it is their use and wont not to grant such leave, unless it is duly asked; and-and —therefore I desire to
know your name, worthy sir."
The grim and loathly aspect with which the falconer
had regarded Oliver Proudfute during his harangue, had
greatly disconcerted him, and altogether altered the character of the inquiry which, with Henry Gow to back him,
he would probably have thought most fitting for the occasion.
The stranger replied to it, modified as it was, with a
most inauspicious grin, which the scars of his visage
made appear still more repulsive.  " You want to know
my name? —M y name is the Devil's Dick of Hellgarth,
well known in Annandale for a gentle Johnstone.  I fol
low the stout Laird of Wamphray, who rides with his
kinsman the redoubted Lord of Johnstone, who is banded with the doughty Earl of Douglas; and the Earl and
the Lord, and the Laird and I the Esquire, fly our hawks
where we find our game, and ask no man whose ground
we ride over."26
" T will do your message, sir," replied Oliver Proudfute, meekly enough; for he began to be very dcesiroui




ST. YALENTINE'S D AY.           107
to get free of the embassy which lie had so rashly under
taken, and was in the act of turning his horse's head,
when the Annandale man added,6 And take you this to boot, to keep you in mind tnat
you met the Devil's Dick, and to teach you another time
to beware how you spoil the sport of any one who wears
the flying spur on his shoulder."
With these words he applied two or three smart blows
of his riding-rod upon the luckless Bonlnet-maker's head
and person.  Some of them lighted upon Jezabel, who,
turning sharply round, laid her rider upon the moors and
galloped back towards the party of citizens.
Proudfute, thus overthrown, began to cry for assistance
In no very manly voice, and almost in the same breath to
whimper for mercy; for his antagonist, dismounting almost as soon as he fell, offered a whinger, or large wood
knife, to his throat, while he rifled the pockets of the unlucky citizen, and even examined his hawking bag, swearing two or three grisly oaths, that he would have what it
contained, since the wearer had interrupted his sport.
He pulled the belt rudely off, terrifying the prostrate
Bonnet-maker still more by the regardless violence which
he used, as, instead of taking the pains to unbuckle the
strap, he drew till the fastening gave way.  But apparently it contained nothing to his mind.  He threw it
carelessly from him, and at the same time suffered the
dismounted cavalier to rise, while he himself remounted
his hobbler, and looked towards the rest of Oliver's party,
who were now advancing.
When they had seen their delegate overthrown, there
was some laughter; so much had the vaunting humour of
the Bonnet-maker prepared his friends to rejoice, when,
as Henry Smith termed it, they saw their Oliver meet
with a Rowland.  But when the BonIet-maker's adversary was seen to bestride him, and handle him in the
manner described, the armourer could hold out no longer
"' Please you, good Master Bailie, I cannot endure to see
Dur townsman beaten and rifled, and like to be murdered
before us all. It reflects upon the Fair Town; and ii




.108          ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
it is neighbour Proudfute's misfortune, it is our shame. 1
lmust to his rescue."
"We will all go to his rescue," answered Bailie Craignailie: " but let no man strike wvithout order from me.
We have more feuds on our hands, it is to be feared,
than we have strength to bring to good end. And therefore I charge you all, more especially you, Henry of the
Wynd, in the name of the Fair City, that you make no
stroke but in self-defence."  They all advanced, therefore, in a body; and the appearance of such a number
drove the plunderer from his booty.  He stood at gaze,
however, at some distance, like the wolf, which, though
it retreats before the dogs, cannot be brought to absolute
flight.
Henry, seeing this state of things, spurred his horse
and advanced far before the rest of the party, up towards
the scene of Oliver Proudfute's misfortune.  His first
task was to catch Jezabel by the flowing rein, and his
next to lead her to meet her discomfited master, who was
crippling towards him, his clothes much soiled with his
fall, his eyes streaming with tears, from pain as well as
mortification, and altogether exhibiting ai aspect so unlike the spruce and dapper importance of his ordinary
appearance, that the honest Smith felt compassion for the
little man, and some remorse at having left him exposed
to such disgrace.  All men, I believe, enjoy an ill-natured joke.  The difference is, that an ill-natured person
can drink out to very dregs the amusement which it
affords, while the better moulded. mind soon loses the
sense of the ridiculous in sympathy for the pain of the
sulfferer.
" Let me pitch you up to your saddle again, neighbour,"' said the Smith, dismounting at the same time,
and assisting Oliver to scramble into his war-saddle, as a
monkey might have done.
"  May God forgive you, neighbour Smith, for not backing of me! I would not have believed in it, though fifty
credible witnesses had swvorn it of you."




ST. VALENTINEI S DAY.             109
Such were the first words, spoken in sorrow more than
anger, by which the dismayed Oliver vented his feelings.
"Tilhe Bailie kept hold of my horse by the bridle; and
besides," Henry continued, with a smile, which even his
compassion could not suppress, " I thought you would
have accused me of diminishing your honour, if I brought
you aid against a single mnan.  But cheer up! the villain
took foul odds of you, your horse not being well at command."
" That is true-that is true," said Oliver, eagerly
catching at the apology.
" And yonder stands the faitour, rejoicing at the mischief he has done, and triumphing in your overthrow, like
the King in the romance, who played upon the fiddle
whilst a city was burning.  Come thou with me and thou
shalt see how we will handle him-Nay, fear not that I
will desert thee this time."
So saying, lie caught Jezabel by the reign, and galloping alongside of her, without giving Oliver time to express
a negative, he rushed toward the Devil's Dick, who had
halted on the top of a rising ground at some distance.
The gentle Johnstone, however, either that he thought the
contest unequal, or that he had fought enough for the day,
snapping his fingers, and throv*ing his hand out with an
air of defiance, spurred his horse into a neighbouring bog,
through which he seemed to flutter like a wild-duck,
swinging his lure round his head, and whistling to his
hawk all the while, though any other horse and rider must
have been instantly bogged up to the saddle-girths.
"' There goes a thorough-bred moss-trooper," said the
Smith.  "' That fellow will fight or flee as suits his humour, and there is no use to pursue him, any more than
to hunt a wild-goose. He has got your pprse, I doubt me,
for they seldom leave off till they are full-handed."
" Ye-ye —yes,"  said Proudfute, in a melancholy
tone; " he has got my purse-but there is less matter
since he hath left the hawking-bag."
10 VOL. I.




]10.         ST. VALENTINEf  S BDAi.
" Nlay, the hawking-bag had been an emblem of perBonal victory, to be sure —a trophy, as the minstrels call it."
"' There is more in it than that, firielnd," said Oliver,
significantly.'~ Why, that is well, neighbour; I love to hear you
speak in your own scholarly tone again.  Cheer up, you
have seen thee villain's back, and regained the trophies
you had lost when taken at advantage."
h; Ah, Henry Gow-Henry Gow!" said the Bonnetnmalker, and stopped short wili a deep sigh, nearly amlounting to a groan.
W" lhat is the -matter?" asked his fiiend;' what is it
you vex yourself about now?"
"; I have some suspicion, my dearest friend, Henry
Smith, that the villain fled for fear of you, not of me i"
"6 Do not think so," replied the armourer; L hle saw
two men and fled, and who can tell whether he fled for
one or the other? Besides, lie knows by experience your
strength and activity; we all saw how you kicked and
struggled when you were on the ground.T"
" Did I?" said poor Proudfute; "I do not remember
it-but I know it is my best point-I am a strong dog in
the loins. But did they all see it?"
" All as much as I," said the Smith, smothering an
inclination to laughlter.
"' But thou wilt remind thenm- of it?"
" Be assured I will,"  answered Henry, 1" and of thy
desperate rally even now.  Mark what I say to Bailie
Craigdallie, and make the best of it."
"c It is not that I require any evidence in my favour,
For I am as brave by nature as most men in Perth-but
inly.  "  Here the man of valour paused.
6 But only what?F' inquired the stout armourer.
But only I am afraid of being killed.  To leave my
pretty wife and my young family, you know, would be a
sad change, Smith.  You will know this when it is yocr
own case, and will feel abated in courage."
"4 It is like that I may," said the armourer, musing.




ST. YALENTINE'$S tal 7.          1 I11
" Then I am so accustomed to the use of arms, and so
well breathed, that few men can match mie.  It's all
hiere," said the little man, expanding his breast like a
trussed fowl, and patting himself with his hands;' here
is room for all the wind machinery."
"1 i dare say you are long-breathed —long-winded, —at
least your speech bewrays —---
M" Ty speech?-You are a wag-but I have got the
stern post of a dromond brought up the river from Dundee."
"6 The stern post of a Drummond!"' exclaimed the
armourer, " conscience, man, it will put you in feud with
the whole clan-not the least wrathful in the country, as
I take it."
"' St. Andrew, man, you put me out!-I mean a dromond, that is, a large ship. I have fixed this post in my
yard, and had it painted and carved something like a Soldan or Saracen, and with him I breathe myself, and will
wield my two-handed sword against him, thrust or point,
for an hour together."
" That must make you familiar with the use of your
weapon," said the Smith.
a" Ay, marry does it-and sometimes I will place you
a bonnet (an old one, most likely) on my Soldan's head,
and cleave it with such a downright blow, that, in troth,
the infidel has but little of his skull remaining to hit at."
" That is unlucky, for you will lose your practice,"
said Henry.-" But how say you, Bonnet-maker? I will
put on my head-piece and corslet one day, and you shall
hew at me, allowing me my broadsword to parry and pay
back? Eh, what say you?"
" By no manner of means, my dear friend. I should
do you too much evil;-besicles, to tell you the truth, I
strike far more freely at a helmet or bonnet, when it is set
on my wooden Soldan —then I am sure to fetch it down.
But when there is a plume of feathers in it that nod, and
two eyes gleaming fiercely from under the shadow of the
visor, and when the whole is dancing about here and there
I acknowledge it puts out my hand of fence.'




112           ST. VALENTINT'$S IlAY.
" So, if men would but stand stock still like your SolJan, you would play the tyrant with them, AMaster Proudfute?"
In time, and with practice, I conclude I might," answered Oliver.-" But here we come up with the rest of
them; Bailie Craigdallie looks angry-but it is not his
kind of anger that frightens me."
You are to recollect, gentle reader, that as soon as the
Bailie, and those who attended him, saw that the Smith
had come up to the forlorn Bonnet-maker, and that the
stranger-had retreated, they gave themselves no trouble
about advancing further to his assistance, which they regarded as quite insured by the presence of the redoubted
H-tenry Gow.  They had resumed their straight road to
Kinfauns, desirous that nothing should delay the execution
of their mission.  As some time had elapsed ere the
Bonnet-maker and the Smith rejoined the party, Bailie
Craigdallie asked them, and Henry Smith in particular,
what they meant by dallying away precious time by riding
up hill after the falconer.
"' By the mass, it was not my fault, Master Bailie,"
replied the Smith. "I f ye will couple up an ordinary
low-country greyhound with a highland wolf-dog, you must
not blame the first of them  for taking the direction in
which it pleases the last to drag him on.  It was so, and
not otherwise, with my neighbour Oliver Proudfute.  He
no sooner got up from  the ground, but he mounted his
mare like a flash of lightning, and enraged at the unknightly advantage which yonder rascal had taken of his stumbling horse, he flew after him like a dromedary. I could
not but follow, both to prevent a second stumble, and
secure our over bold friend and champion from the chance
~f some ambush at the top of the hill.  But the villain,
who is a follower of some Lord of the Marches, and
wears a winged spur for his cognizance, fled from our
neighlbour like fire from flint."
The senior Bailie of Perth listened with surprise to the
legend which it had pleased Gow to circulate; for,
though not much caring for the matter, he had always




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              113
doubted the Bonnet-maker's romancing account of his:wn exploits, which hereafter he must hold as in some
degree orthodox. The shrewd old Glover looked closer
into the nmatter.
" You will drive the poor Bonnet-maker mad," he
whispered to Henry, "; and set him a-ringing his clapper,
as if he were a town-bell on a rejoicing day, when fol
order and decency it were better he were silent."
" 0, by Our Lady, father," replied the Smith, " I love
the poor little braggadocio, and could not think of his
sitting rueful and silent in the Provost's hall, while all the
rest of them, and in especial that venomous Pottingar,
were telling their mind."'6 Thou art even too good-natured a fellow, Henry,'
answered Simon.  " But mark the difference betwixt
these two men. The harmless little Bonnet-maker assumes the airs of a dragon, to disguise his natural cowardtce;  7while the Pottingar wilfully desires to show himself
timid, poor-spirited, and humble, to conceal the danger of
his temper.  The adder is not the less deadly that he
creeps under a stone.  I tell thee, son Henry, that for all
his sneaking looks, and timorous talking, this wretched
anatomy loves mischief more than he fears danger. —But
here we stand in front of the Provost's castle; and a
lordly place is Kinfauns, and a credit to the city it is, to
have the owner of such a gallant castle for its  chief
magistrate."
" A goodly fortalice, indeed,"' said the Smith, looking
at the broad winding Tay, as it swept under the bank on
which the castle stood, like its modern successor, and
seemed the queen of the valley, although, on the opposite
side of the river, the strong walls of Elcho appeared to
dispute the pre-eminence. Elcho, however, was in that
age a peaceful nunnery, and the walls with which it was
surrounded were the barriers of secluded vestals, not the
bulwarks of an armed garrison.  "'Tis a brave castle,"
saild the armourer, again looking at the towers of' KinIau1ns,' and the breast-plate and larget of the bonnie
0   VO. 1.




114           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
course of the Tay.  It were worth lipping* a good blade
Defore wrong were offered to it."
The porter of' Kinfauns, who knew from a distance the
persons and characters of tile party, had already opened
the court-yard gate for their entrance, and sent notice to
Sir Patrick Charteris, that the eldest Bailie of Perth, with
some other good citizens, were approaching the castle.
The good knight, who was getting ready for a hawking
party, heard the intimation, with pretty much the same
feelings that the modern representative of a burgh hears
of the menaced visitation of a party of his worthy electors, at a time rather unseasonable fobr their reception.
That is, he internally devoted the intruders to'Mahound
and Termagant, and outwardly gave orders to receive
them with all decorum and civility; commanded the
sewers to bring hot venison steaks and cold baked meats
into the knightly hall with all despatch, and the butler to
broach his casks, and do his duty; for if the Fair City of
Perth sometimes filled his cellar, her citizens were always
equally ready to assist at emptying his flagons.
The good burghers were reverently marshalled into the
hall, where the knight, who was in a riding-habit, and
booted up to the middle of his thighs, received them with
a mixture of courtesy and patronizing condescension;
wishing them all the while at the bottom of the Tay, on
account of the interruption their arrival gave to his proposed amusement of the morning.  He met them in the
midst of the hall, with bare head and bonnet in hand, and
some such salutation as the following: —" Ha, my Master
Eldest Bailie, and you, worthy Simon Glover, fathers of
the Fair City;-and you, my learned Pottingar;-and
vou, stout Smith;-and my slashing Bonnet-maker too,
who cracks more skulls than lie covers, how come I to
have the pleasure of seeing so many friends so early  I
was thinking to see my hawks fly, and your company will
make the sport more pleasant-(Qside, I trust in Our
Lady they may break their necks!)-that is, always, unLippin7g, i. e. making notches in a sword, or knife,.




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.             115
less the city have any commands to lay oli me-Butler
Gilbert, despatch, thou knave-But I hope you have no
more grave errand than to try if the malvuisie holds its
flavour?"
The city delegates answered to their Provost's civilities
by inclinations and congees, more or less characteristic,
of which the Pottingar's bow was the lowest, and the
Smith's the least ceremonious.  Probably he knew his
own value as a fighting man upon occasion. To the general compliment the elder Bailie replied.
" Sir Patrick Charteris, and our noble Lord Provost,"
said Craigdallie, gravely, "had our errand been to enjoy
the hospitality with which we have been often regaled
here, our manners would have taught us to tarry till your
lordship had invited us, as on other occasions.  And as
to hawking, we have had enough on't for one morning;
since a wild fellow, who was flying a falcon hard by on
the moor, unhorsed and cudgelled our worthy friend Oliver Bonnet-maker, or Proudfute, as some men call him,
merely because he questioned him, in your honour's
name, and the town of Perth's, who or what he was that
took so much upon him."'" And what account gave he of himself?" said the
Provost.  " By St. John! I will teach him to forestall
my sport!"
cc So please your lordship," said the Bonnet-maker,
" he did take me at disadvantage. But I got on horseback again afterwards, and pricked after him gallantly.
Hie called himself Richard the Devil."
"' How, man? he that the rhymes and romances are
made on?" said the Provost.  " I thought that smaik's
name had been Robert."
"6 I trow they be difFerent, my lord; I only graced this
fellow withl the fill title for indeed he called himnself the
Devil's Diclk, and said 1he was a Johnstone, and a follower
of the lord of that name.  But I put him back into the
bog, and recovered my hawking bag, which he had taken
twhen I was at disadvantage."




11 6          ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
Sir Patrick paused for an instant.  " We have heard,"
said he, " of the Lord of Johnstone, and of his followers.
Little is to be had by meddling with them. —Smith, tell
me, did you endure this?"
" Ay, faith did I, Sir Patrick; having command from
my betters not to help."
a' Well, if thou sat'st down with it," said the Provost,' I see not why we should rise up; especially as Master
Oliver Proudfute, though taken at advantage at first, has,
as he has told us, recovered his reputation and that of the
burgh. But here comes the wine at length. Fill round
to my good friends and guests till the wine leap over the
cup.  Prosperity to St. Johnston, and a merry welcome
to you all, my honest friends! And now sit you to eat a
morsel, for the sun is high up, and it must be long since
you thrifty men have broken your fast."
"' Before we eat, my Lord Provost," said the Bailie,
" let us tell you the pressing cause of our coming, which
as yet we have not touched upon."
" Nay, prithee, Bailie," said the Provost, "' put it off
till thou hast eaten.  Some complaint against the rascally
jackmen and retainers of the nobles, for playing at football on the streets of the burgh, or some such goodly
matter."
" No, my lord," said Craigdallie, stoutly and firmly.
" It is the jackmen's masters of whom we complain, for
playing at foot-ball with the honour of our families, and
using as little ceremony with our daughters' sleeping chambers, as if they were in a bordel at Paris. A party oI
reiving night-walkers, —courtiers, and men of rank, as
there is but too much reason to believe,-attempted to
scale the windows of Simon Glover's house last night;
they stood in their defence with drawn weapons when
they were interrupted by Henry Smith, and fought till they
wvere driven off by the rising of the citizens."
"How?" said Sir Patrick, setting down the cup which
lie was about to raise to his head.  "' Cocksbody, make
that manifest to me, and by the soul of Thomas of Longueville, I will see you righted with my best power, were




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.             117
it to cost me life and land.-Who attests this? —Simon
Glover, you are held an honest and a cautious man-do
you take the truth of this charge upon your conscience T"
L bly lord," said Simon, " understand I am no willing
complainer in this weighty matter. No damage has arisen,
save to the breakers of the peace themselves. I fear only
great power could have encouraged such lawless audacity; and I were unwilling to put feud between my native
town and some powerful nobleman on my account.  But
it has been said, that if I hang back in prosecuting this
complaint, it will be as much as admitting that my daughter expected such a visit, which is a direct falsehood
Therefore, my lord, I will tell your lordship what happened, so far as I know, and leave further proceeding to
your wisdom." He then told, from point to point, all that
he had seen of the attack.
Sir Patrick Charteris, listening with much attention,
seemed particularly struck with the escape of the man
who had been made prisoner.  " Strange," he said, " that
you did not secure him when you had him. Did you not
look at him so as to know him again?"' I had but the light of a lantern, my Lord Provost;
and as to suffering him to escape, I was alone," said the
Glover, " and old. But yet I might have kept him, had
I not heard my daughter shriek in the upper room; and
ere I had returned from her chamber, the man had escaped through the garden."
"' Now, armourer, as a true man, and a good soldier,"
said Sir Patrick, " tell me what you know of this matter."
Henry Gow, in his own decided style, gave a brief but
clear narrative of the whole affair.
Honest Proudfute being next called upon, began his
statement with an air of more importance.  "Touching
this awful and astounding tumult within the burgh, I cannot altogether, it is true, say with Henry Gow, that I saw
the very beginning. But it will not be denied that I beheld a great part of the latter end, and especially that I
procured the evidence most effectual to convict the
knaves."




118           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
"; And what is it, man?" said Sir Patrick Charteris.' Never lose time fumbling and prating about it. lWhat
is it?"
I have brought your lordship, in this pouch, what one
of the rogues left behind him," said the little man.  " It
is a trophy which, in good faith and honest truth, I do
confess I won not by the blade, but I claim the credit of
securing it with that presence of mind which few men
possess amidst flashing torches and clashing weapons.  I
secured it, my lord, and here it is."
So saying, he produced, from the hawking pouch already mentioned, the stiffened hand which had been found
on the scene of the skirmish.
~" Nay, Bonnet-maker," said the Provost, "I'll warrant
thee man enough to secure a rogue's hand after it is cut
from the body.-What do you look so busily for in your
bag?"' There should have been —there was-a ring, my
lord, which was on the knave's finger. I fear I have been
forgetful, and left it at home, for I took it off to show to
my wife, as she cared not to look upon the dead hand, as
women love not such sights.  But yet I thought I had put
it on the finger again.  Nevertheless, it must, I bethink
me, be at home. I will ride back for it, and Henry Smith
will trot along with me."
" We will all trot with thee," said Sir Patrick Charteris, "6since I am for Perth myself. Look you, honest
burghers and good neighbours of Perth. You may have
thought me unapt to be moved by light complaints and
trivial breaches of your privileges, such as small trespasses on your game, the barons' followers playing football in the street, and such like. But, by the soul of
Thomas of Longuevlleville, you shall not find Patrick Charteris slothful in a matter of this importance.-This hand,"
he continued, holding up the severed joint, " belongs to
one who hath worked no drudgery.  We will put it in a
way to be known and claimed of the owner, if his comrades of the revel have but one spark of honour in them.
— lark you, Gerardtl-get me some half-score of good




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               119
men instantly to horse, and let them take jack and spear.
Meanwhile, neighbours, if feud arise out of this, as is most
likely, we must come to each other's support.  If my
poor house be attacked, how many men will you bring to
my support?"
The burghers looked at Henry Gow, to whom they instinctively turned when such matters were discussed.  "I
will answer," said he, " for fifty good fellows to be assembled ere the common bell has rung ten minutes; for
a thousand, in the space of an hour."
"L It is well," answered the gallant Provost; " and in
the case of need, I will come to aid the Fair City with
such men as I can make.  And now, good friends, let us
to horse."
CHAPTER IX.
If I know how to manage these affairs,
Thus thrust disorderly upon my handsNever believe me-  Richaerd 11.
IT was early in the afternoon of St. Valentine's Day
that the Prior of the Dominicans was engaged in discharge
of his duties as Confessor to a penitent of no small importance. This was an elderly man, of a goodly presence,
a florid and healthfill cheek, the under part of which was
shaded by a venerable white beard, which descended
over his bosom. The large and clear blue eyes, with the
broad expanse of brow, expressed dignity - but it was of
a character which seemed more accustomed to receive
honours voluntarily paid, than to enforce them when they
were refused. The good-nature of the expression was so
great as to approach to defenceless simplicity or weakness of character, unfit, it might be inferred, to repel intrusion, or subdue resistance.  Amongst the grey locks of
this personage was placed a small circlet or coronet ot
gold, upon a blue fillet. His beads, which were large and
conspicuous, were of native gold, rudely enough wrought,
but ornamented with Scottish pearls, of rare size and




120 VST. VALENTINE S DAY.
beauty. These were his only ornaments; and a long
crimson robe of silk, tied by a sash of the same colour,
formed his attire.  His shrift being finished, he arose
heavily from the embroidered cushion upon which he
kneeled during his confession, and by the assistance of a
crutch-headed staff of ebony, moved, lame and ungracefully, and with apparent pain, to a chair of state, which,
surmounted by a canopy, was placed for his accommodation by the chimney of the lofty and large apartment.
This was Robert, third of the name, and the second of
the ill-fated family of Stewart, who filled the throne of
Scotland. He had many virtues, and was not without
talent; but it was his great misfortune, that, like others of
his devoted line, his merits were not of a kind suited to
the part which he was called upon to perform  in life.
The king of so fierce a people as the Scots then were,
ought to have been warlike, prompt, and active, liberal in
rewarding services, strict in punishing crimes; one whose
conduct should make him feared as well as beloved.  The
qualities of Robert the Third were the reverse of all
these.  In youth he had indeed seen battles; but, without incurring disgrace, he had never manifested the chivalrous love of war and peril, or the eager desire to distinguish himself by dangerous achievements, which that
age  expected  from  all who were of noble birth, and
had claims to authority.
Besides, his military career was very short. Amidst
the tumult of a tournament, the young Earl of Carrick,
such was then his title, received a kick from the horse of
Sir James Douglas of Dalkeith; in consequence of which,
he was lame for the rest of his life, and absolutely disabled from taking share either in warfare, or in the military sports and tournaments which were its image. As
Robert had never testified much predilection for violent
exertion, he did not probably much regret the incapacities which exempted him from these active scenes.  But
his misfortune, or rather its consequences, lowered him
in the eyes of a fierce nobility and warlike people.  He
was obliged to repose the principal clharge of his affairs




ST. VALENTINE'S BDAY.             121
now in one member, now in another, of his family; some
times with the actual rank, and always with the power of
Lieutenant-general of the kingdom.  His paternal affection would have induced him to use the assistance of his
eldest son, a young man of spirit and talent, whom in
fondness he had created Duke of Rothsay, in order to
give himn the present possession of a dignity next to that
of the throne.7 Pout the young Prince's head was too
giddy, and his hand too feeble, to wield with dignity the
delegated sceptre.  However fond of power, pleasure
was the Prince's favourite pursuit; and the court was
disturbed, and the country scandalized, by the number
of fugitive amours, and extravagant revels, practised by
him who should have set an example of order and regularity to the youth of the kingdom.
The license and impropriety of the Duke of Rothsay's
conduct was the more reprehensible in the public viewv,
that he was a married person; although some, over whom
his youth, gaiety, grace, and good temper, had obtained
influence, were of opinion, that an excuse for his libertinism might be found in the circumstances of the marriage
itself.  They reminded each other that his nuptials were
entirely conducted by his uncle, the Dulke of Albany, by
whose counsels the infirm  and timid King was much
governed at the time, and who had the character of managing the temper of his brother and sovereign, so as
might be most injurious to the interests and prospects of
the young heir.  By Albany's rachinations, the hand of
the heir apparent was in a manner put up to sale, as it
was understood publicly that the nobleman in Scotland
who should give the largest dower to his daughter, might
aspire to raise her to the bed of the Duke of Rothsay.
In  the contest for preference which ensued, George,
Earl-of Dunbar and March, who possessed, by himself
or his vassals, a great part of the eastern frontier, was
preferred to other competitors; and his daughter was,
with the mutual good will of the young couple, actually
contracted to the Duke of Rothsay.
1 1  VOL. 1.




122          ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
But there remained a third party to be consulted, and
that was no other than the tremendous Archibald, Earl of
Douglas, terrible alike from tile extent of his lands, firom
the nunlerous offices and jurisdictions with which lie was in..
vested, and fiom his personal qualities of wisdom and
valour, mingled with indomitable pride, and more than
the feudal love of vengeance.  The Earl was also nearly
related to the throne, having married the eldest daughter
of the reigning Monarch.
After the espousals of the Duke of Rothsay with *the
Earl of March's daughter, Douglas, as if he had postponed his share in the negotiation to show that it could
not be concluded with any one but himself, entered the
lists to break off the contract. He tendered a larger dower
with his daughter Ma jory than the Earl of March had
proffered; and secured by his own cupidity and fear of the
Douglas, Albany exerted his influence with the timid monarch till he was prevailed upon to break the contract with
the Earl of March, and wed his son to Marjory Douglas,
a woman whom  Rothsay could not love.  No apology
was offered to the Earl of March, excepting that the espousals betwixt the Prince and Elizabeth of Dunbar had
not been approved by the States of Parliament, and that
till such ratification, the contract was liable to be broken
off. The Earl deeply resented the wrong done to himself and his daughter, and was generally understood to
study revenge, which his great influence on the English
frontier was likely to place within his power.
In the meantime, the Duke of Rothsay, incensed at the
sacrifice of his hand and his inclinations to this stateintrigue, took his own mode of venting his displeasure, by
neglecting his wife, contemning his formidable and dangerous father-in-law, and showing little respect to the
authority of the King himself, and none whatever to the
remonstrances of Albany his uncle, whom he looked upon
as his confirmed enemy.
Amid these internal dissensions of his family, which
extended themselves throiugh his councils and administration, introducing every where the baneful effects of un



ST. VALiNTINE IS DAY.               123
certaillty and disunion, the feeble Monarch had for some
time been supported by the counsels of his Queen Annabella, a daughter of thle noble lhouse of Drumll-mod, gifted
with a depth of sagacity and firmness of mind, which exercised some restraint  over the levities of a son who respected her, and sustained on many occasions the wavering resolution of her royal husband.  But after her death
the imbecile Sovereign resembled nothing so much as a
vessel drifted from her anchors, and tossed about amidst
contending currents.  Abstractedly considered, Robert
might be said to dote upon Ihis son,-to entertain respect
and awe for tle character of his brother Albany, so mLuch
more decisive than his own,-to fear the Douglas with a
terror which was almost instinctive, and to suspect the
constancy of thle bold but fickle Earl of March.  But his
feelings towards these various characters were so mixed
and complicated, thlat firom time to time they showed entirely different fiom wllat they really were; and according to the interest lwhich lhad been last exerted over his
flexible mind, the Kiug woutld change from an indulgent,
to a strict and even cruel fatler-firom a confiding, to a
jealous brothler-or fi-omn a benignant and bountiftl, to a
grasping and encroacllinig Sovereign. Like the cameleon,
his feeble mind reflected the colour of tl-at firmer character upon wl1ich at tlle time he reposed for counsel and
assistance.  And whllen le disused the advice of one of
his family, and emrployed the counsel of another, it was
no unwonted tlirig to see a total change of measures,
equally disrespectable to the character of the King, and
dangeJous to the safety of the state.
It fcllowed as a matter of course, that the clergy of the
Catholic Church acquired influence over a man whose
intentions were so excellent, but whose resolutions were
so infirm.  Robert was haunted, not only with a due
sense of the errors lhe had really committed, but witli the
tormenting apprehensions of those peccadilloes which
beset a superstitious and( titnid mind.  It is scarcely necessary, therefore, to add, that the churchmen of various
descriptions had no small influence over this easy-temper



124  TA. VALENTINE  IS DXAY
ed prince, though indeed, theirs was, at that period, ax
influence from which few or none escaped, however resolute and firm of purpose in affairs of a temporal character. —iWe now return firom this long digression, without
which what we have to relate could not perhaps have
been well understood.
The King had moved with ungraceful difficulty to the
cushioned chair, which, under a state or canopy, stood
prepared for his accommodation, and upon which he
sank down with enjoyment, like an indolent man, who
had been for some time confined to a constrained position. When seated, the gentle and venerable looks of the
good old man showed benevolence.  The Prior, who
now remained standing opposite to the royal seat, with
an air of deep deference which cloaked the natural haughtiness of his carriage, was a man betwixt forty and fifty
years of age, but every one of whose hairs still retained
their natural dark colour.  Acute features, and a penetrating look, attested the talents by which the venerable
father had acquired his high station in the community
over which he presided; and, we may add, in the councils of the kingdom in whose service they were often exercised.  The chief objects which his education and habits tauglht him to keep in view, were the extension of the
dominion and the wealth of the church, and the suppression of heresy, both of which he endeavoured to accomplish by all the means which his situation afforded him.
But he honoured his religion by the sincerity of his own
belief, and by the morality which guided his conduct in
all ordinary situations.  The faults of the Prior Anselm,
though they led him into grievous error and even cruelty, were perhaps rather those of his age and profession
-his virtues were his own.'" These things done," said the King, " and the lands
I have mentioned, secured by my gift to this monasteryv
you are of opinion, father, that I stand as much in the
good graces of our Holy Mother Church, as to term my.
self her dutiful son?"




ST. VALENTINE' S D AY.,           125
6 Surely, my liege," said the Prior; "1 would to God
that all her children brought to the efficacious sacrament
of confession as deep a sense of their errors, and as much
will to make amends for them.  But I speak these comforting words, my liege, not to Robert King of Scotland,
but only to my humble and devout penitent, Robert Stewart of Carrick."
46 You surprise me, Father," answered the King; " I
have little check on my conscience for aught that I have
done in my kingly office, seeing that I use therein less
mine own opinion than the advice of the most wise counsellors."
"6 Eventherein lieth the danger, my liege," replied the
Prior.  " The Holy Father recognizes in your Grace,
in every thought, word, and action, an obedient vassal of
the Holy Church.  But there are perverse counsellors,
who obey the instinct of their wicked hearts, while they
amuse the good-nature and ductility of their monarch,
and, under colour of serving his temporal interests, take
steps which are prejudicial to those that last to eternity."
King Robert raised himself upright in his chair, and
assumed an air of authority, which, though it well became
him, he did not usually display.
" Prior Anselm," lie said, 6" if you have discovered
anything in my conduct, whether as a king or a private
individual, which may call down such censures as your
words intimate, it is your duty to speak plainly, and I
command you to do so."
M" My liege, you shall be obeyed," answered the Prior,
with an inclination of the body.  Then raising himself up,
and assuming the dignity of his rank in the church, he
said, " Hear from me the words of our Holy Father the
Pope, the successor of St. Peter, to whom have descended the keys, both to bind and to unloose.' Wherefore,
O Robert of Scotland, hast thou not received into the See
of St. Andrews, Robert of Wardlaw, whom  the Pontiff
hath recommended to fill that See? Why dost thou mnake
profession with thy lips, of dutiful service to the Church,
11 *  vOL. I,




12  ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
when thy actions proclaim the depravity and disobedien-e
of thy inward soul? Obedience is better than sacrifice.'"'' Sir Prior," said the Monarch, bearing himself in a
manner not unbecomning his lofty rank, "we may well
dispense with answering you upon this subject being a
matter which concerns us and the Estates of our kingdom,
but does not affect our private conscience."'; Alas," said the Prior, "' and whose conscience will it
concern at the last day? Which of your belted lords or
wealthy burgesses will then step between their King and
the penalty which he has incurred, by following of their
secular policy in matters ecclesiastical? Know, mighty
King, that, were all the chivalry of thy realm drawn up
to shield thee from the red levin-bolt, they would be consumed like scorched parchment before the blaze of a firnace.'9
6" Good Father Prior," said the King, on whose timorous conscience this kind of language seldom  failed to
make an impression, " you surely argue over rigidly in
this matter.  It was during my last indisposition, while
the Earl of Douglas held, as Lieutenant-general, the regal
authority in Scotland, that the obstruction to the reception of the Primate unhappily arose.  Do not, therefore,
tax me witll what happened when I was unable to conduct the affiirs of the kingdom, and compelled to delegate my power to another."
" To your subject, Sire, you have said enoughl," replied the Prior.' But, if the impediment arose during
the lieutenancy of the Earl of Douglas, the Legate of
his Holiness will denland wherefore it has not been instantly removed, wllen the King resumed in his royal
hands the reins of authlority?  The Black Douglas can
do nuch; more perhaps than a subject should have power to do in the kingdom of his sovereign; but lhe cannot
stand betwixt your grace and your own conscience, or
release you from the duties to the Holy Church, which
your situation as a king imposes upon you."




ST. VALEt'LNTIN I1 8 1i I'A Y. e       7
6 Fatherg9 said Robert, somewhat impatiently, "1 you
~nre over peremptory in this miatter, and oulght at least to
wtait a reasonable sea -son, until xv e have tilme to consideer
of siome reiedly.   Suc1i dispults  have happened repeatedlCy in the religs of our predecessors; and our royal
and blessced  ancestor, S;i Snt Davidl, did not resig]n his
privilege as as aono-arcl vwithout making a stand in their
def-ncee even though hle was involved in arguments with
the I-oly Father himself."' u And therein was that great and good king neither
holy nor saintly," said the Prior; "' and therefore was he
given to be a rout and a spoil to his enemies, when lhe
raised his sword against the banners of St. Peter, and St.
Paul, and St. John of Beverly, in the war, as it is still
called, of the Standard.  Well was it for him, that, like
his namesake, the son of Jesse, his sin was punished upon
earth, and not entered against himn at the long and dire
day of accounting."
" Well, good Prior-well-enough of thills for the present.  Thle Holy See shall, God wvilling, have no reason
to complain of me.  I take Our Lady to witness, I would
not for the crown I wear take the burden of wronging
our lMAother Church.  We have ever feared that the Earl
of Douglas kept his eyes too much fixed on the faiule and
the temporalities of this frail and passing life, to feel altogether as he ought the claims that refer to a future world.'9
" It is but lately," said the Prior, "' that he hath taken
up forcible quarters in the Monastery of Aberbrothock,
with his retinue of a thousand followers; and the abbot
is compelled to furnish him with all lhe needs for horse
and man, which the Earl calls exercising the hospitality
which he hath a right to expect from  the foundation to
vwhich his ancestors were contributors.  Certain, it wvere
better to return to the Douglas his lands than to submit
to such exaction, which more resembles the masterful
license of Highland thiggers and sorners,05than the demeanour of a Christian baron.'"
" The Black Douglasses," said the King, with a sigh,
are a race which will not be said nay.  But, Father




128           ST'.  VAIEit'A INT' Ia S B  SA'Y.
Prior, I am  myself, it may be, an intruder of this kind
for my sojourning hath been long among you, and my
retinue, though far fewer than the Douglas's, are neverthleless enough to cumber you for their daily maintenance; and though our order is to send out purveyors to
lessen your charge as mucll as may be, yet if there be
inconvenience, it were fitting we should remove in time."
"Now, Our Lady forbid," said the Prior, who, if desirous of power, had nothing meanly covetous in his
temper, but was even magnificent in his generous kindness; " certainly the Dominican Convent can afford to
her Sovereign the hospitality which the house offers to
every wanderer of whatever condition, who will receive
it at the hands of the poor servants of our patron.  No,
my royal liege; come with ten times your present train,
they shall neither want a grain of oats, a pile of straw, a
morsel of bread, nor an ounce of food, which our convent will not supply them.  It is one thing to employ the
revenues of the Church, which are so much larger than
monkls ought to need or wish for, in the suitable and dutiful reception of your royal Majesty, and another to have
it wrenched from  us by the hands of rude and violent
men, whose love of rapine is-only limited by the extent
of their power."
"; It is well, good Prior," said the King; "and now to
turn our thoughts for an instant from state affairs, can thy
reverence inform us how the good citizens of Perth have
begun their Valentine's Day?-Gallantly and merrily,
and peacefully, I hope."' For gallantly, my liege, I know little of such qualities.  For peacefully, there were three or four men, two
cruelly wounded, came this morning before daylight to
ask the privilege of girth and sanctuary, pursued by a
hue and cry of citizens in their shirts, with clubs, bills,
Lochaber axes, and two-handed swords, crying kill and
slay, each louder than another.  Nay, they were not
satisfied when our porter and watch told them that those
they pursued had taken refuge in the Galilee of the
Church;2Cbut continued for some minutes clamouring dund




ST. VAr,< ENTINE' S DAY.         129
striking upon the postern door, demanding that the men
vlwho had offended should be delivered up to them.  I was
afraid their rude noise might have broken your Majesty's
rest, and raised some surprise."
" TMy rest might have been broken," said the Monarch;
" but that sounds of violence should have occasioned
surprise-Alas, reverend Father, there is in Scotland only
one place where the shriek of the victim, and threats of
the oppressor are not heard —and that, Father, is-the
grave."
The Prior stood in respectfill silence, sympathizing
with the feelings of a monarch, whose tenderness of heart
suited so ill with the condition and manners of his people.
"' And what became of the fugitives?" asked Robert,
after a minute's pause.'" Surely, Sire," said the Prior, " they were dismissed,
as they desired to be, before daylight; and after we had
sent out to be assured that no ambush of their enemies
watched them  in the vicinity, they went their way in
peace."
" You know nothing," inquired the King, " who the
men were, or the cause of their taking refuge with you?"
" The cause," said the Prior, " was a riot with the
townsmen; bhut how arising is not known to us. The
custom of our house is to afford twenty-four hours of uninterrupted refuge in the sanctuary of St. Dominic, without asking any question at the poor unfortunates who have
sought relief there.  If they desire to remain for a longer
space, the cause of their resorting to sanctuary must be
put upon the register of the convent; and, praised be
our holy Saint, many persons escape the weight of the
law by this temporary protection, whom, did we know the
character of their crimes, we night have found ourselves
Dibliged to render up to their purlsuers and persecutors."
As the Prior spoke, a dim idea occurred to the 3Monwch, that the privilege of sanctuary thus peremptorily
executed, must prove a severe interruption to the course
of justice through his realin.  But he repelled the feeling,
as if it had been a suggestion of Satan, and took care




130           $qST. VALENTINE' S D A Y.
that not a single word should escape to betray to the
churchman that such a profane thought had ever occupied
hlis bosom; on the contrary, he hasted to change the
subject.
" The sun," he said, c" moves slowly  on thle index.
After tlhe painful information you have given nme, I expected the Lords of my Council ere now, to take order
with the ravelled affairs of this unhappy riot.  Evil was
the fortune which gave me rule over a people, among
whom it seems to me I am  in my own person the only
man who desires rest and tranquillity."
"C The Church always desires peace and tranquillity,"
added thile Prior, not suffering even so general a proposition to escape the poor King's oppressed mind, without
insistitg on a saving clause for tile Church's honour.'c We meant nothing else," said Robert.  "' But, Father Prior, you Will allow that the Church, in quelling strife,
as is doubtless her purpose, resembles tile busy housewife, who puts in motion the dust which she means to
sweep) away."
To this remark the Prior would have made some reply,
but the door of the apartment was olpened, and a gentleman usher announced the Duke of Albany.
CHAPTER X.
Gentle friend!
Chide not her mirth, who was sad yesterday,
Atid may be so to-morrow.
JOANNA. BAILLIE.
THE  Duke of Albany was, like his royal brother,
named Robert.  The Christian name of thle latter had
been John, until lhe wvas called to the throne; when the
superstition of the timnes observed that tile name had been
connected with misfortune in the lives and reigns of John




ST. VALENTINEI    S DAY.             131
Df England, John of France, and John Baliol of Scotland.  It was therefore agreed, that, to elude the bad
omen, the new King should assume the name of Robert,
rendered dear to Scotland by the recollectioins of Rlobert
Bruce.  We mention this to account for the existence of
two brothers of thle samne Christian namne in one family,
which was not certainly an usual occurrence more than
at the present day.
Albany, also an aged man, was not stipposed( to be
much more disposed for warlike enterprise tllan the King
himself.  But if lie had not courage, lhe had wisdoml to
conceal and cloak over his want of tlhat quality, wlhich,
once suspected, would have ruined all the plans which
his ambition had fiormned.  lie had also pride enough to
supply, in extremity, thle want of real valour, and command enougll over hlis nerves to conceal tleir agitatiol.
In other respects lhe was experienced  in the ways of
courts, calm, cool, and crafty, fixing upon the points
which he desiredl to attain, whllile they were yet far re-moved, and never losing  sight of tlem, thoungh the winding
paths in which lie trode mighlt occasion ally seem to point
to a diff'erent direction.  In hlis person h-e resembled the
King, for lie was noble and majestic bothl in stature and
countenance.  But he had the advantage of his elder
brothers in being unencumbered with any infirmity, and in
every respect ligliter and more active.   His dress was
rich and grave, as became his age and rank, and, like his
royal brother, lie wore no arms of any kind, a case of
small knives suppllyinlg at his girdle the place usually occupied by a d(agger, in absence of a sword.
At the Duke's entrance tile prior, after making an obeisance, respectfiully witlldrew to a recess in thle apartment,
at some distance frorn thle royal seat, in ordler to leave thle
conversation of the brotlhers uncontlrolled by thle presence
Df a third person.   It is necessary to mention, tliat the
recess was formed by a window, placed in tile inner fi-ont
of the monastic buildings, called the Ialace, firom its being
the fiequent residence of the Kings of Scotland, but which
was, unless on such occasions, the residence of the Prior




1,32          ST. VALENTIN~E S DA Y.
or Abbot.  The window was placed over the principal
entrance to the royal apartments, and commanded a view
of the internal quadrangle of the convent, formed on the
right hand by the length of the magnificent church, on the
left by a building, containing the range of cellars, with the
refectory, chapter-house, and other conventual apartments
rising above them, for such existed altogether independent
of the space occupied by King Robert and his attendants;
while a fourth row of buildings, showing a noble outward
front to the rising sun, consisted of a large hospitiurn, for
the reception of strangers and pilgrims, and many subordinate offices, warehouses, and places of accommodation,
for the ample stores which supplied the magnificent hospitality of the Dominican fathers.  A lofty vaulted entrance led through this eastern front into the quadrangle,
and was precisely opposite to the window at which Prior
Anselm stood, so that lie could see underneath the dark
arch, and observe the light which gleamed beneath it from
the eastern and open portal; but, owing to the height to
which he was raised, and the depth of the vaulted archway, his eye could but indistinctly reach the opposite and
external portal.  It is necessary to notice these localities.
We return to the conversation between the princely relatives.
"My dear brother," said the King, raising the Duke of
Albany, as he stooped to kiss his hand; " ny dear, dear,
brother, wherefore this ceremonial? Are we not both sons
of the same Stewart of Scotland, and of the same Elizabeth More?"
"I have not forgot that it is so," said Albany, arising;
"but I must not omit, in the familiarity of the brother,
the respect that is clue to the King."
" 0h, true, most true, Robin," answered the King.
" The throne is like a lofty and barren rock, upon which
flower or shrub can never take root.  All kindly feelings,
all tender affections, are denied to a monarch.  A king
must not fold a brother to his heart-he dare not give
way to fondness for a son!"




ST. VALiENSNINI 5 S'  D A Y.        133
6 Such, in some respects, is the doom  of greatness,
Sire," answered Albany; 66 but H-eaven, who removed
to some distance from your Majesty's sphere tile members
of your own family, has given you a vwhole people to be
your childlren."'
" Alas! 1Robert,"  answered the Monarch, " your
heart is better framed for tile duties of a sovereign than
mine.  I see froom the height at which ftte has placed me,
that multitude whom you call my children-I love them,
I wish thiem - well-but they are many, aind they are distant fonl me. Alas! even the meanest of theim has some
beloved being whiom he can clasp to his heart, and upon
whom lie can lavish the fondness of a father! Buit all that
a king can give to a people is a smile, such as the sun
bestows on the snowy peaks of the Grampian mountains,
as distant and as ineffectual.  Alas, Robin! our father
used to caress us, and if lie chid us it was with a tone of
kindness; yet lie was a monarch as well as I, and wherefore should not I be permitted, like him, to reclaim my
poor prodigal by affection as well as severity?'' Had affection never been tried, my liege," replied
Albany, in the tone of one who delivers sentiments which
lie grieves to utter, "; means of gentleness ought assiuredly
to be first made use of.   Your Grace is best judge
whether they have been long enough persevered in, and
whether those of discouragement and restraint may not
prove a more effectual corrective.  It is exclusively in
your royal power to take what measures with the Duke of
Rothsay you think will be most available to his ultimate
benefit, and that of the kingdom."'" This is unkind, brother," samd the King; " you indicate the painful path which you would have  me pursue,
yet you offer me not your support in treadinlg it."
Iy support your Grace may ever command," replied Albany; " but would it become me, of all men on
earth, to prompt to your Grace severe measures against
your son and heir? l e —on whom, in case of failurewhich heaven forefend-of your Grace's family, this fatal
12  VOL. 1,




134             ST. VAjIENTIN I;S DA  Y.
crown might desend? Woulltd it not be thoughlt and said
by tile fiery ilarch1 ai tile l'o.lvhtqly  o,,In1zias, that Albatny
blad sowtn djssensionl betieen-c iis roa!  bi  ler andt tlhe
heir to the Scottish tlhtrone, perh)(lps to clear the way for
the succession of' lis ow n failily? —No, mty liege-l can
sacrifice  ny life to your service, but 1 iust not place my
hono!Ur in dange:.'.
" You say trtueL  Robin —you say very true," replied
the K ing, hasteninr   to put llis own interlpretationl upon L his
brother's words.'"  Vc munust not sufleri- these powverfid
and danrgerous lords to pereixve l at tlere is all~llt like
discord in thle royal family.  TIlait must be )avoidted of all
tllings; and therefore wwe wcill still tr'y indlulgelt measures,
in hopes of corrIectiIg tlle fbl(ies of l othlsay.  I bellold
sparks of hlole in hiun, RIobin, fihom  timiie to tile, tllat are
Wvell worthl cllerishlling. H e is votrllg —very  younlg —a
prince, and ill the bhey-day of his l)looil. i We Nwill have
patience vwitll him, like a good ridler witll a lot-tenmpered
horse.  Let himn exhaulst thlis idle Inti-our, and no one
will be better pleased  wit  li ti llan yOrllself   You have
censured me in your kintliiess 1)br being too gentie, too
retired-Rothsay llas no sucll defects."' 1. will pawvn my life lie has not,"  replied  Albany
dryly.
" And he wvants not reflection as wvell as spirit," continured the poor King, pleadiing the cause of' his son to lis
brother.  "1 have sent fbi' himn to atteiirl  coutncil to-day,
and we shall see how lie acquits thimself of his devoir.
You yourself allow, Robin, tliat tIle Prince wanits neither
shrewdness nor capacity for aftairs, xwhen he is in the huinour to consider theml."
Doubtless, lie wants neither, my liege,e" replied Albany, "  whern he is in the hunmour to consider themn."' I say so," answered the King; " and a.m  heartily
glad that you agree with me, Robin, in giving this poor
hapless young maan another trial.  I-le inas no mother now
to pllead his cause wvith an incensed fatlher.  That mull;st
be remembered, Albany."




ST. VAIFNTINE S DA WY.                 135;6 I trust,"  said Albany, " the course which is most
agreeable to your ~Gi ce's feeliIns  vill also prove thle
wisest and the best.'"
Thle Duike well sai  the simple stratagem  by wvlich
the K'in  was endleavourino to escalpe fiom ilhe conclusions
of his reasoning, and to adopt, unlder pretence of his
sanction, a course of proceeding   the reverse of what it
best suited him to recommend.  Pluit thougll he saw he
could not guidle his brother  to the lifne of' conduct he desired, he would lot ablllond       tlie reins, hut resolved to
watch for a fitter op3portunlity of obtaliir tle sinister advantages to which new  (uari'r'els betlixt tle King and
Prince were sooni, ihe tlloight, likely to give rise.
In the meantinl-e   inig  Robert, afiai  lest hlis brother
should resunme the painl'tfl sublject fromn xwhich lie bad just
escaiped, called aloutd to the Prior cf the Dominicans, C" I
hear the tramplinig of horse.  Yotur station comiands the
court-yard, reverend  Fahtier.  Look firom  the window,
and tell us wlio alights —Rtotilsay, is it not?"
" The noble Earl of MIarcll, withl lIis iollowers," said
the Prior.
" Is lie strongly accompanied?" said thle King.  Do
his people enter thle inner-gate?'
At tile sane  morriment, Albany wihispered the King,
"; Fe-ear notiling —the Brandanes3~ of your household are
under artrns."
The King nodded tiltanks, lwhile tile Prior fiom the
window answered the qucestion he ha(l put.     The Earl
is attendedl by two pages, two geltlemen,  ad four grooins.
Onle.page ftllows hini up the main staircase, bearing his
lordship's sword.  The others hatlt in the court, andBenedicit6, how is this? —Here is a strolling glee-womian
with hler viol, preparing to sing beneath the royal windows, and in the cloister of the Dominicans, as she might
in the yard of an hostelrie! I will have hler presently
thrust forth."'




ObG -PST. Y AL NI'JEr N I' S  DA Y.
N' Not so, Father,"l said thle King.  "' Let me implore
grace for the poor wanderer.  The Joyous Science, as
they Call it, which they profess, ninmglies sadly with thle
distresses to which wanilt and camllaity condemnl     a strolling race; and in that they resemble a Kinly, to whllom all
nen cry,' All hail!' while lie lacks the loinmage and obedient affection whllichl the poorest yeomlan receives from
his family.  Let the wanderer remain undisturbed, Father; and let her sing if she will to the yeomren and troopers in the court —it will keep theni fiorn quarrelling with
each other, belonging, as they do, to such unruly and
hostile masters."
So spoke thlle well-meaning and feeble-minded Prince,
anrd the Prior bowed in acquiescence.  As lie spoke, the
Earl of March entered the hall of audience, dressed in
the ordinary riding gLarb of the time, and wearing his
poniard.  He had left in the anteroom  the page of' honour who carried his sword.  The Earl was a well-built,
handsome man, fhir-complexioned, with a considerable
profulsion of light-coloured hair, and bright blue eyes,
which gleamned like those of a falcon.  He exhibited in
his countenance, otherwise pleasing, the marks of a hasty
and irritable temper, which his situation as a high and
powerful feudal lord had given him but too many opportunities of indulging.
"' I am glad to see you, my Lord of March," said the
King, with a gracious inclination of his person.  6; You
have been long absent from our councils."
" My liege," answered March, with a deep reverence
to the King, and a hlaughty and formal inclination to the
Duke of Albany, 1" if I have been absent fiom  your
Grace's councils, it is because my place has been supplied
by more acceptable, and, I doubt not, abler counsellors
And now I come but to say to your Highness, that the.
news from  the English frontier make it necessary thlat I
should return without delay to my own estates.  Your
Grace has your wise and politic brother, my Lord of
Albany, with whom to consult, and the mighty and war
like Ear1 of Douglas to carr;t'y your counsels int efbe-t. I




ST. VALENTXINE S DAY.               137
am of no use save in my own country; and thither, with
your Highness's permission, I am purposed instantly to
return, to attend my charge, as Warden of the Eastern
MIarches."
" You will not deal so unkindly with us, cousin," replied the gentle Monarch.' Here are evil ticdings on
the wind.  These unhappy IHighland claris are again
breaking into general commotion, and the tranquillity even
of our own court requires the wisestofour council to advise, and the bravest of our barons to execute what may
be resolved upon. The descendant of Thollas Randolph
will not surely abandon the grandson of Robert Bruce
at such a period as this?'"
"' I leave with him the descendant of the far-famed
James of Douglas," answered March.  " It is his lordship's boast, that lie never puts foot in stirrup but a thousand horse mount with hirn as his daily life-guard, and I
believe the monks of Aberl)rothockl will swear to the
fact.  Sutrely, with all the Douglas's chivalry, they are
fitter to restrain a disorderly swarm of Highland kerne,
than I can be to withstand the archery of England, and
power of Henry Hotspur? And then, here is his Grace
of Albany, so jealous in his care of your Highness's person, that he calls your Brandanes to take arms, when a
dultiul subject like myself approaches the court with a
poor half-score of horse, the retinue of the mneanest ol
the petty barons who own a tower and a thousand acres ot
barren heath.  When such precautions are taken where
there is not the slightest chance of peril-since I trust
none was to be apprehended from me-your royal person
will surely be suitably guarded in real danger."
"l Iy Lord of March," said the Duke of Albany,'" thq
mneanest of the barons of whom you speak put their fol.
lowers in arms, even when they receive their dearest and
nearest friends within the iron gate of their castle; and,
if it please Our Lady, I wvill not care less for the King's
person than they do for their own.  The Brandanes.re
the King's immediate retainers and household servants,
seven  hluandred of them is but a small guard roaend his
VOL. T.          1.2




1.38          F;'ST. VALNTINEI' S D AY.
Grace, when yourself, my lord, as well as the Earl of
Douglas, often ride with ten times the number."' Miy lord duke,"' replied Mal'chll, "; when the service
of the King requires it, 1 can ride with ten times as many
horse as your Grace has named; but I have never done
so either traitorously to entrap the King, nlor boastfully to
overawe other nobles."'" Brother llobert," said the King, ever anxious to be
a peace-maker, " you do wrong even to intimate a suspicion of my Lord of March.  And you, cousin of:March,
misconstrue my brother's caution.-MBut lirk-to divert
this angry parley —-   hear no unpleasing touchll of minstrelsy.  You know the Gay Science, my Lord of MLMarch,
and love it well-Step to yonder winidow, beside the holy
Prior, at whom  we make no question touchling secular
pleasures, and you will tell us if the music and lay be
worth listening to.  The notes are of' France, I thinkMyv brother of Albany's judgment is not worth a cockleshell in such matters —so you, cousin, must report your
opinion whether the poor glee-maiden deserves recompense.  Our son and tIle Douglas will presently be here,
and men, when our council is assembled, we will treat of
graver matters."With something like a smile on his proud brow, AMarch
withdrew into thle recess of the window, and stood there
in silence beside thle Prior, like one who, while he obeyed the King's command, saw through alnd despised the
thniid precaution which it implied, as an attempt to prevent the dispute betwixt Albany and himself.  The tune,
which was played upon a viol, was gay and sprightly in
the commencement, Ivitli a touch of the wildness of tlhe
Troubadour music.   But as it proceeded, the faltering
tones of the instrument, and of the fenmale voice which
accompanied it, became plaintive and interrupted, as if
choked by the painful feelings of the minstrel.
Thle offenlded Earl, whatever miglit be his judgment
in such matters on1 which tlme King had compllimented
him, paid, it may be supposed, little attention to the music
of tile female minstrel.  His proud heart  was stroggling




ST. VAL.JINTINE'  S DAY.             139
between the allegiance lie owed his Sovereign, as well as
tile love lie still foundl lurking in his bosom for the pelson
of his well-natured King, and a desire of vengeance
arising out of' his disappointed ambition, and the disgrace
done to hinm by tile substitution of dMarjory Douglas to be
bride of the lheir-apparent, instead of his betrothed daughter.  March had the vices and virtues of a hasty and
uncertain character, and even now, when he came to bid
the King adieu, with the purpose of renouncing his allegiance as soon as'lie reached hlls own feudal territories,
he felt unwilling, and almost unable, to resolve upon a
step so criminal and so full of peril.   It was with such
dangerous cogitations that lie was occupied during the
beginning of the glee-maiden's lay; but objects which
called his attention powerfilly, as the songstress proceeded, affected the current of hIis thoughts, and riveted them
on what was passing in the court-yard of the monastery.
The song was in the Provenc-al dialect, well understood
as the language of poetry in all the courts of Europe,
and particularly in Scotland.  It was more simply turned,
however, than was the general caste of the Sirventes, and
rather resembled the lai of a Norman Minstrel.  It may
oe translated thus:
32
WTilE  LAY OF -POOR LOUISE.
Ah, poor Louise! The live-long day
She roams from cot to castle gay;
And still her voice and viol say,
Ahb, maids, beware the woodland way,
Think on Louise!
Ah, poor Louise! The sun was high,
It smirch'd her cheek, it dimin'd her eye,
The woodland walk was cool and nigh,
Where birds with chiming streamlets vie
To cheer Louise.
Ah, poor Louise! The savage bear
iMade ne'er that lovely grove his lair;




140              ST. VALEN'TINE' S DAY.
The wolves molest not paths so fairBut better far had such been there
For poor Louise.
Ah, poor Louise! In woody wold
She met a huntsman fair and bold;
His baldrick was of silk and gold,
And many a witching tale he told
To poor Louise.
Al, poor Louise! Small cause to pine
Hadst thou for treasulres of the mine;
For peace of mind, that gift divine,
And spotless innocence, were thine,
Ah, poor Louise!
- h, poor Louise! Thy treasure's reft!
I know not if' by force or theft,
Or part by violence, part by gift 
But misery is all that's left
To poor Louise.
Let poor Louise some succour have!
She wrill not long your bounty crave,
Or tire the gay with warning stavoeFor Heaven has grace, and earth a r-ave
For poor Louise.
The  song  was no  sooner finished, than, anxious lesi
the dispute should be revived betwixt his brother and the
Earl of March, King Robert called to the latter, " llWhat
think you of the minstrelsy, my  lord?-A lethinks, as I
heard it even at this distance, it was a wild and  pleasing
lay."9
" My judgment is not deep, my lord; but the singer
may  dispense with  my  approbation, since she seems to
have  received  that of his Grace  of Rothsay-the first
judge in Scotland."
6' How!" said the King in alarm; "c is my son below?"
He is sitting on horseback by the glee-maiden," sai(d
March, with a malicious smile on his cheek, apparently
as muncl:  interested by her conversation as her music.




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               141
"How is this, Father Prior?" said the King.   But
the Prior drew back from the lattice.
L I have no will to see, my lord, things which it would
pain me to repeat."
" How is all this?" said the King, who coloured deeply, and seemed about to rise from his chair; but changed
his mind, as if unwilling, perhaps, to look upon some unbecoming prank of the wild young Prince, which he might
not have had heart to punish with necessary severity.
The Earl of March seemed to have a pleasure in informing him of tllat, of which doubtless lie desired to remain
ignorant.'My liege," lie cried, " this is better and better.
The glee-maiden has not only engaged the ear of the
Prince of Scotland, as well as of every groom and trooper
in the court-yard, but she has riveted the attention of the
Black Douglas, whom we hlave not known as a passionate
admirer of the Gay Science.  But truly, I do not wvonder
at his astonishment, for the Prince has honoured the fair
professor of song and viol with a kiss of approbation."'
" How?"' cried the King, " is David of Rothsay trifling
with a glee-maiden, and his wife's father in presence?Go, my good Father Abbot, call the Prince here instantly
-Go, Olmy dearest brother"'     And when they had both
left the room, tle King continued, " Go, good cousin of
March-there will be miscltrief, I am  assured of it.  I
pray you go, cousin, and second my Lord Prior's prayers
with my commands."9'You forget, my liege," said March, with the voice
of a deeply offended person; " the fath!er of Elizabeth
of Dunbar were hut an unfit intercessor between the
Douglas and his royal son-in-law."
" I crave your pardon, cousin," said the gentle old
man.  e' I own you have had some wrong-but my
Potlisay will be murdered-I must go myself."
But as he arose precipitately from his chair, the poor
King missed a footstep, stumbled, and fell heavily to the
ground, in sulch a manner, thliat his head striking the corher of the sc.t firom  which he 1rhad risen, he became fof




.14 c2        ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
a minute insensible. The sight of the accident at once
overcame March's resentment, and melted his heart.  He
ran to the fallen Monarch, and replaced hir in his seat,
using, in the tenderest and most respectful manner, such
means as seemed most fit to recall animation.  Robert
opened his eyes, and gazed around with uncertainty.
" What has happened? —are we alone? —who is with
us?'
Your dutiful subject, March," replied the Earl.'Alone with the Earl of March!" repeated the King,
his still disturbed intellects receiving some alarm from the
name of a powerful chief, whom he had reason to believe
he had mortally offended.
" Yes, my gracious liege, with poor George of Dunbar; of whom many have wished your Majesty to think
ill, though lhe will be found truer to your royal person at
the last than they will."
"' Indeed, cousin, you have had too much wrong; and
believe me, we shall strive to redressa"'" If your Grace thinks so, it may yet be righted," interrupted the Earl, catching at the hopes which his ambition suggested; " the Prince and Marjory Douglas
are nearly related-the dispensation from  Rome was
informally granted-their marriage cannot be lawful-the
Pope,, who will do much for so godly a prince, can set
aside this unchristian union, in respect of the pre-contract.
Bethink you well, my liege," continued the Earl, kindling with a new train of ambitious thoughts, to which the
unexpected opportunity of pleading his cause personally
had given rise,-" bethink you how you choose betwixt
the Douglas and me. He is powerful and mighty, I grant.
But George of Dunbar wears the keys of Scotland at his
belt, and could bring an English army to the gates of
Edinburgh, ere Douglas could leave the skirts of Cairntable to oppose them.  Your royal son loves my poor deserted girl, and hates the haughty Marjory of Douglas.
Your Grace may judge the small account in which he
holds her, by his toying with a common glee-maiden even
in the presence of her father."




ST.'VALEENTIN', S DAY.              14-3
The King had hitherto listened to the Earl's argument
with the bewildered feelings of a timid horseman, borne
away by an impetuous steed, whose course he can neithier
arrest nor direct.  But the last words awakened in his
recollection. tile sense of his sonl's imlainediate danger.
h 01 n ay, 1most true —my son-thle Douglas —Ol, mny
dear cousin, prevent blood, and all slhall be as you will.
-— HLark, thlere is a tunmult- that was the clash of' arms ~)'~ By my coronet-by my knightly faith, it is triue!
said the Earl, looking fr'om tlle window  upon the inner
square of tile convent, now  filled with armed men and
brandished weapons, and resounding with the clash of
armour.  The deep-vaulted entrance was crowded with
warriors at its farthest extremity, and blows seemed to
be in the act of being exclhanged betwixt some who were
endeavouring to shut the gate, and others who contended
to press in.
I6  will go instantly," said the Earl of March, " and
soon quell this sudden broil-Hunlbly, I pray your'Iajestv to think on what I have had the boldness to propose."'
" I will-I will, fair cousin," said the King, scarce
knowing to what lie pledlged himself —6 Do but prevent
tumult and bloodshed!"
CHAPTER XI.
Fair is the damsel, passing fairSunny at distance gleanms her smile;
Approach-the cloud of woful care
Hangs trembling in her eye the while.
Luclh'DA, a Ballad.
WVE must here trace, a little more correctly, the events
which had been indistinctly seen from the window of the
royal apartments, and yet more indistinctly reported by
those who witnessed them.  The glee-maiden, already
mentioned, had planted herself, where a rise of two large
broad steps, giving access to the main gateway of the
royal apartments, gained her an advantage of a fobot and
a half in height over those in the court, of whom  she




144          9ST. VALE INTINE'S DAY.
hoped to form an audience.  She wore the dress of het
calling, which was more gaudy than rich, and sliowed the
person more than did the garb of other females.   Shb,
had laid aside an uipper mantle, and a small basket which
contained her slender stock of necessaries, and a little
IFrench spaniel dog sat beside them, as their protector.
An azure-blue jacket, embroidered with silver, and sitting
close to the person, was open in front, and showed several waistcoats of differenlt coloured sillcs, calculated to
set off the symrnmetry of the shoulders and bosom, and renmaining open at the throat.  A small silver chain worn
around her neck, involved itself amongst these brilliantcoloured waistcoats, and was again produced fiom  them,
to display a imedal of the same metal, which intimated, in
the name of some court or guild of minstrels, the degree
sle had taken in the Gay or Joyous Science.  A small
scrip, suspended over her shoulders by a blue silk riband, hung on her left side.
TIer sunny cornplexion, snow-white teeth, brilliant black
eyes, and raven locks, marked her country lying far in the
south of France, and the arch smile and dimpled chin bore
the same character.  Her luxuriant raven locks, twisted
around a small gold bodkin, were kept in their position by a
net of silk and gold.  Short petticoats, deep-laced Kwith silver, to colrrespond withl the jacket, red stockings which were
visible so hlighl as near the calf of the leg, and buskins of
Spanish leatlher, comipleted her adjustment, wlhiclh, t alougl
far from new, had been saved as an untarnished holiday suit,
which much care had kept in good order.  She seemed
about twenty-five years old; but perhaps fatigue and
wandering had anticipated the touch of time, in obliterat
ing the fireshness of early youth.
We have said the glee-maiden's manner was lively, and
we may add, that her smile and repartee were ready.
Bu:t her gaiety was assumed, as a quality essentially necessary to her trade, of which it was olne of the miseries,
that the professors were obliged frequently to cover an
aching heart with a compelled smile.  This seemed to
be the case with Louise, who, whether she was actually
the heroine of her own song, or whatever other cause




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              145
she inight have for sadness, showed at times a strain of
deep melancholy thought, which interfered with and controlled the natural flow of lively spirits, which the practice of the Joyous Science especially required.  She
lacked also, even in her gayest sallies, the decided boldness and effrontery of her sisterhood, who were seldom
at a loss to retort a saucy jest, or turn the laugh against
any who interrupted or interfered with them.
It may be here remarked, that it was impossible that
this class of women, very numerous in that age, could
bear a character generally respectable.  They were,
however, protected by the manners of the time; and such
were the immunities they possessed by the rights of chivalry, that nothing was more rare than to hear of such errant damsels sustaining injury or wrong, and they passed
and repassed safely, where armed travellers would probably have encountered a bloody opposition. But though
licensed and protected in honour of their tuneful art, the
wandering minstrels, male or female, like similar ministers
to the public amusement, the itinerant musicians, for instance, and strolling comedians of our own day, led a life
too irregular and precarious, to be accounted a creditable
part of society.  Indeed among the stricter Catholics the
profession was considered as unlawful.
Such was the damsel, who, with viol in hand, and stationed on the slight elevation we have mentioned, stepped
forward to the bystanders, and announced herself as a
mistress of the Gay Science, duly qualified by a brief from
a Court of Love and Music held at Aix, in Provence,
under the countenance of the flower of chivalry, the gallant Count Aymer; who now prayed that the cavaliers of
merry Scotland, who were known over the wide world
for bravely and courtesy, would permit a poor stranger
to try whether she could afford them any amusement by
her art.-The love of song was like the love of fight, a cornmon passion of the age, which all at least affected, whether
they were actually possessed by it or no; therefore the
acquiescence in Louise's proposal was universal. At the
13  VOL. I.




146           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
same time, an aged, dark-browed monk who was among
the bystanders, thought it necessary to remind the gleemaiden, that, since she was tolerated within these precincts,
which was an unusual grace, he trusted nothing would be
sung or said inconsistent with the holy character of the
place.
The glee-maiden bent her head low, shook her sable
locks, and crossed herself reverentially, as if she disclaimed the possibility of such a transgression, and then
began the song of Poor Louise, which we gave at length
in the last chapter.
Just as she commenced, she was stopped by a cry of
"Room —room-place for the Duke of Rotllsay!"
" Nay, hurry no man on my score," said a gallant
young cavalier, who entered on a noble Arabian horse,
which he managed with exquisite grace, though by such
slight handling of the reins, such imperceptible pressure
of the limbs and sway of the body, that to any eye save
that of an experienced horseman, the animal seemed to be
putting forth his paces for his own amusement, and thus
gracefully bearing forward a rider who was too indolent
to give himself any trouble about the matter.
The Prince's apparel, which was very rich, was put on
with slovenly carelessness.  His form, though his stature
was low, and his limbs extremely slight, was elegant in
the extreme; and his features no less handsome. But
there was on his brow a haggard paleness, which seemed
the effect of care or of dissipation, or of both these vwasting causes combined.  His eyes were sunk and dim, as
from late indulgence in revelry on the preceding evening,
while his cheek was inflamed with unnatural red, as ii
either the effect of the Bacchanalian orgies had not passed
away from the constitution, or a morning draught had
been resorted to, in order to remove the effects of the
night's debauchery.
Such was the Duke of Rothsay, and heir of the Scottlsh crown, a sight at once of interest and compassion
All unbonneted, and made way for him, while he kept
repeating carelessly, " No haste-no haste — shall arrive




ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.             147
soon enough at the place I am bound for.-How's this
-a damsel of theJoyous Science? Ay, by St. Giles! and
a comely wenchl to boot.  Stand still, my merry-men;
never was minstrelsy marred for mie.-A  good voice, by
the mass! Begin me that lay again, sweetheart."
Louise did not know the person who addressed her;
but the general respect paid by all around, and the easy
and indifferent manner in which it was received, showed
her she was addressed by a man of the highest quality.
She recommenced her lay, and sting her best accordingly;
while the young Duke seemed thoughtful and rather affected towards the close of the ditty.  But it was not his
habit to cherish such melancholy affections.  In This is a
plaintive ditty, my nut-brown maid," said he, chucking
the retreating glee-maiden under the chin, and detaining
her by the collar of her dress, whiich was not difficult, as
le sat on horseback so close to the steps on which she
stood. "1 But I warrant me you hiave livelier notes at
will, ma bella tenebrosa; ay, and canst sing in bower as
well as wold, and by night as well as day."
I I am no nightingale, my lord," said Louise, endeavouring to escape a species of gallantry which ill-suited
the place and circumstances, a discrepancy to which he
who addressed it to her seemed contemptuously indifferent.
" What last thou there darling?" he added, removing
his hold from her collar, to the scrip which she carried.
Glad was Louise to escape his grasp, by slipping the
knot of the riband, and leaving the little bag in the
Prince's hand, as, retiring back beyond his reach, she answered, " Nuts, my lord, of the last season."
The Prince pulled out a handful of nuts accordingly.
~ Nuts, child!-they will break thine ivory teeth-hurt
thy pretty voice," said Rothsay, cracking one with his
teeth, like a village schoolboy.
" They are not the walnuts of my own sunny clime,
my lord," said Louise; " but they hang low, and are
within the reach of the poor."




148           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
"' You shall have something to afford you better fare,
poor wandering ape," said the Duke, in a tone in which
feeling predominated more than in the affected and contemptuous gallantry of his first address to the glee-maiden.
At this moment, as he turned to ask an attendant for
his purse, the Prince encountered the stern and piercing
look of a tall black man, seated on a powerful iron-grey
horse, who had entered the court with attendants while the
Duke of Rothsay was engaged with Louise, and now ren-ained stupified and almost turned to stone by his surprise
and anger, at this unseemly spectacle. Even one who had
never seen Archibald Earl of Douglas, called the Grim,
must have known him by his swart complexion, his gigantic
frame, his buff-coat of bull's-hide, and his air of courage,
firmness, and sagacity, mixed with indomitable pride. The
loss of an eye in battle, though not perceptible at first sight,
as the ball of the injured organ remained similar to the other,
gave yet a stern immovable glare to the whole aspect.
The meeting of the royal son-in-law with his terrible
step-father, was in circumstances which arrested the attention of all present; and the bystanders waited the issue
with silence and suppressed breath, lest they should lose
any part of what was to ensue.
When the Duke of Rothsay saw the expression which
occupied the stern features of Douglas, and remarked
that the Earl did not make the least motion towards respectful, or even civil salutation, he seemed determined
to show him how little respect he was disposed to pay to
his displeased looks.  He took his purse from his chamberlain.
-Here, pretty one," he said, " I give thee one gold
piece for the song thou hast sung me, another for the nuts
I have stolen from thee, and a third for the kiss thou art
about to give me.  For know, my pretty one, that when
fair lips (and thine for fault of better may be called so)
make sweet music for my pleasure, I am sworn to St.
Valentine to press them to mine."
"Aly song is recompensed nobly-" said Louise,
shrinking back; " my nuts are sold to a good market



ST. VALENTINE'A S DAY.            149
farther traffic, mny lord, were neither befitting you nor beseenling me.'
"What! you coy it, my nymph of the highway?"
said the Prince, contemptuously.'" Know, damsel, that
one asks you a grace who is unused to denial."
" It is the Prince of Scotland" -" the Duke of Rothsay,"-said the courtiers around, to the terrified Louise,
pressing forward the trembling young womanl; " you
must not thwart his humour."
"' But I cannot reach your lordship," she said, timidly,
"'you sit so high on horseback."
" If I must alight," said Rothsay, " there shall be the
heavier penalty-What does the wench tremble for?
Place thy foot on the toe of my boot, give me hold of thy
hand —Gallantly done!"  He kissed her as she stood thus
suspended in the air, perched upon his foot, and supported by his hand; saying, 6 There is thy kiss, and there is
my purse to pay it; and to grace thee farther, Rothsay
will wear thy scrip for the day."  He suffered the frightened girl to spring to the ground, and turned his looks
from her to bend them contemptuously on the Earl of
Douglas, as if he had said, " All this I do in despite of
you and of your daughter's claims."
" By St. Bride of Douglas!" said the Earl, pressing
towards the Prince, "' this is too much, unmannered boy,
as void of sense as honour! You know what considerations restrain the hand of Douglas, else had you never
dared    9'
" Can you play at spang-cockle, my lord?" said the
Prince, placing a nut on the second joint of his forefinger, and spinning it off by a smart application of the
thumb. The nut struck on Douglas's broad breast, who
burst out into a dreadful exclamation of wrath, inarticulate, but resembling the growl of a lion in depth and sternness of expression.  " I cry your pardon, most mighty
lord," said the Duke of Rothsay, scornfully, while all
pround trembled; " I did not conceive my pellet could
1 3* voL. i.




150           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
have wounded you, seeing you wear a buff-coat. Surely,
I trust, it did not hit your eye?"
The Prior, despatched by the King, as we have seen in
the last chapter, had by this time made way through the
crowd, and laying hold on Douglas's rein, in a manner
that made it impossible for him to advance, reminded him
that the Prince was the son of his Sovereign, and the
husband of his daughter.
"' Fear not, Sir Prior," said Douglas.  "I despise the
childish boy too much to raise a finger against him.  But
I will return insult for insult.-Here, any of you who love
the Douglas, —spurn me this quean from the Monastery
gates; and let her be so scourged that she may bitterly
remember to the last day of her life, how she gave means
to an unrespective boy to affront the Douglas!"
Four or five retainers instantly stepped forth to execute
commands which were seldom uttered in vain, and heavily would Louise have atoned for an offence of which she
was alike the innocent, unconscious, and unwilling instrument, had not the Duke of Rotllsay interfered.
"Spurn the poor glee-woman!" he said, in high indignation; " scourge her for obeying my commands?Spurn thine own oppressed vassals, rude Earl —scourge
thine own faulty hounds-but beware how you touch so
much as a dog that Rothsay hath patted on the head, far
less a female whose lips he hath kissed!"
Before Douglas could give an answer, which would
certainly have been in defiance, there arose that great
tumult at the outward gate of the Monastery, already
noticed, and men both on horseback and on foot began to
rush headlong in, not actually fighting with each other,
but certainly in no peaceable manner.
One of the contending parties, seemingly, were partizans of Douglas, known by the cognizance of the Bloody
Hleart, the other were composed of citizens of the town
of Perth.  It appeared they had been skirmishing iat
earnest when without the gates, but, out of respect to the
sanctified ground, they lowered their weapons when they
entered, and confined their strife to a war of words and
mutual abuse.




ST. VAIJaNTINE S DAY.             151
The tumult had this good effect, that it forced asunder,
by the weight and press of numbers, the Prince and
Douglas, at a moment when the levity of' the former, and
the pride of the latter, were urging both to the utmost
extremity. But now peace-makers interfered on all sides.
The Prior and the monks threw themselves among the
multitude, and commanded peace in the name of Heaven,
and reverence to their sacred walls, under penalty of excommunication; and their expostulations began to be
listened to.  Albany, who was despatched by his royal
brother at the beginning of the fray, had not arrived till
now on the scene of action.  He instantly applied himself to Douglas, and in his ear conjured him to temper
his passion.
"' By St. Bride of Douglas, I will be avenged!" said
the Earl.'" No man shall brook life after he has passed
an affront on Douglas."
cc Why so you may be avenged in fitting time," said
Albany; " but let it not be said, that, like a peevish woman, the Great Douglas could choose neither time nor
place for his vengeance.  Bethink you, all that we have
laboured at is like to be upset by an accident.  George
of Dunbar hath had the advantage of an audience with
the old man; and though it lasted but five minutes, I fear
it may endanger the dissolution of your family match,
which we brought atout with so much difficulty.  The
authority from Rome has not yet been obtained."
" A toy!" answered Douglas, haughtily, -" they dare
not dissolve it."
" Not while Douglas is at large, and in possession of
his power," answered Albany. " But, noble Earl, come
with me, and I will show you at what disadvantage you
stand."
Douglas dismounted, and followed his wily accomplice
in silence. In a lower hall they saw the ranks of the
Brandanes drawn up, well-armed in caps of steel and
shirts of mail. Their captain, making an obeisance to
Albany, seemed to desire to address him.
" What now, MacLouis?" said the Duke.




152          S'r, VALENTINE S DAY.
" We are informed the Duke of Rothsay has jeen insulted, and I can scarce keep the Brandanes within
door."
" Gallant MacLouis," said Albany, " and you, my
trusty Brandanes, the Duke of Rothsay, my princely nephew, is as well as a hopeful gentleman can be.  Some
scuffle there has been, but all is appeased."  He continued to draw the Earl of Douglas forward. " You see,
my lord," he said in his ear, " that if the word arrest
was to be once spoken, it would be soon obeyed, and you
are aware your attendants are few for resistance."
Douglas seemed to acquiesce in the necessity of patience for the time.  " If my teeth," lie said, " should
bite through my lips, I will be silent till it is the hour to
speak out."
George of March, in the meanwhile, had a more easy
task of pacifying the Prince.  "M Mly Lord of Rothsay,"
he said, approaching him with grave ceremony, " I need
not tell you that you owe me something for reparation of
honour, though I blame not you personally for the breach
of contract which has destroyed the peace of my family.
Let me conjure you by what observance your Highness
may owe an injured man, to forego for the present this
scandalous dispute."
" My lord, i owe you much," replied Rotllsay; "but
this haughty and all-controlling lord has wounded mine
hono3ur."
Ally lord, I can but add, your royal father is ill —hath
swooned with terror for your Highness's safety."
"11Ill!  the kind, good old man-swooned, said you,
my Lord of March?-I am with him in an instant."
The Duke of Rothsay sprung from his saddle to the
ground, and was dashing into the palace like a greyboulnd, when a feeble grasp was laid on his cloak, and
the faint voice of a kneeling female exclaimed, " Pro
tection, my noble Prince!-Protection for a helpless
stranger l"
" Hariids off, stroller!" said the Ea:rl of March, thl ustnag the suppliant glee-maiden aside.




ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.            153
But the gentler Prince paused.  "It is true," he said,
"I have brought the vengeance of an unforgiving devil
upon this helpless creature.  0 heaven! what a life is
mine, so fatal to all who approach me! —-What to do in
the hurry?-She must not go to my apartments-And all
my men are such born reprobates.-Ha! thou at mine
elbow, honest Harry Smith? What dost thou here?"
" There has been something of a fight, my lord," answered our acquaintance the Smith, between the townsmen and the Southland loons who ride with the Douglas; and we have swinged them as far as the AbbeyGate."
a' I am glad of it-I am glad of it. And you beat the
knaves fairly?"
"Fairly, does your I-ighness ask?" said Henry. " Why,
ay i We were stronger in numbers, to be sure; but no
men ride better armed than those who follow the Bloody
Heart.  And so in a sense we beat them fairly; for as
your highness knows, it is the Smith who matkes the
man-at-arms, and men with good weapons are a match
for great odds."
While they thus talked, the Earl of March, who had
spoken with some one near the palace gate, returned in
anxious haste.  " My Lord Duke! —My Lord Duke!
Your father is recovered, and if you haste not speedily,
my Lord of Albany and the Douglas will have possession
of his royal ear."' And if my royal father is recovered," said the thoughtless Prince, " and is holding, or about to hold, council
with my gracious uncle and the Earl of Douglas, it befits
nteither your lordship nor me to intrude till we are summoned.  So there is time for me to speak of my little
bhisiness with mine honest armourer here."
"' Does your Highness take it so?" said the Earl,
whose sanguine hopes of a change of favour at court had
been too hastily excited, and were as speedily checked,
--- Then so let it be for George of Dunbar."
He glided away with a gloomy and displeased aspect;
and this out of the two most powerful noblemen in ScoL



1.54          ST. VALENTINEIS' 1AY.!and, at a time when the aristocracy so closely controlled
the throne, the reckless heir-apparent had made two
enemies; the one by scornful defiance, and the other by
careless neglect  Hle heeded not the Earl of -MAarch's
departure, however, or rather he felt relieved from his
importunity.
The Prince went on in indolent conversation with our
armourer, whose skill in his art had made him personally
known to many of the great lords about the court.
" I had something to say to thee, Smith —Canst thou
take up a fallen link in my Milan hauberk?"
" As well, please your Highness, as my mother could
take up a stitch in the nets she wove —The Milaner shall
not know my work from his own."
" Well, but that was not what I wished of thee just
now." said the Prince, recollecting himself; "' this poor
glee-woman, good Smith, she must be placed in safety
Thou art man enough to be any woman's champion, and
thou must conduct her to some place of safety."
Henry Smith was, as we have seen, sufficiently rash
and daring when weapons were in question.  But le had
also the pride of a decent burgher, and was unwilling to
place himself in what might be thought equivocal circumstances by the sober part of his fellow-citizens.
M' May it please your 1Highness," he said, " I am but
a poor craftsman.  But though my arm  and sword are
at the King's service, and your Highness's, I am, with
reverence, no squire of dames. Your Highness will find,
among your own retinue, knights and lords willing enough
to play Sir Pandarus of Troy-it is too knightly a part
for poor Hal of the Wynd."
" Umph-hah!" —said the Prince.        M f'ly purse,
Edgar-(his attendant whispered him)-True, true, I
gave it to the poor wench.-I know enough of your craft,
Sir Smith, and of craftsmen in general, to be aware that
men lure not hawks with empty hands; but I suppose my
word may pass for the price of a good armour, and I will
pay it thee with thanks to boot, for this slight service."




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.             155
c" Your highness may know other craftsmen," said the
Smith; "but, with reverence, you know not Henry Gow.
He will obey you in making a weapon, or in welding one,
but he knows nothing of this petticoat service."' Hark thee, thou Perthshire mule,'" said the Prince,
yet smiling, while he spoke, at the sturdy punctilio of the
honest burgher, —" the wench is as little to me as she is
to thee. But in an idle mnoment, as you may learn from
those about thee, if thou sawest it not thyself, I did her
a passing grace, which is likely to cost the poor wretch
her life. There is no one here whom I can trust to protect her against the discipline of belt and bowstring, with
which the Border brutes who follow Douglas will beat
her to death, since such is his pleasure."
I' f such be the case, my liege, she has a right to every
honest man's protection; and since she wears a petticoat,
-though I would it were longer, and of a less fanciful
fashion, —I will answer for her protection as well as a
single nlan may.  But where am I to bestow her?"
1" Good faith, I cannot tell," said the Prince.  "' Take
her to Sir John Ramorny's lodging-But, no-no-he is
ill at ease, and besides, there are reasons-take her to the
devil if thou wilt, but place her in safety, and oblige
David of Rothsay."
"' My noble Prince," said the Smith, " I think —always with reverence-that I would rather give a defenceless woman to the care of the devil than of Sir John
Ramorny.  But though the devil be a worker in fire like
myself, yet I know not his haunts, and with aid of Holy
Church hope to keep him on terms of defiance. And,
moreover, how I am to convey her out of this crowd, or
through the streets, in such a mumming habit, may be
well made a question."
"4 For the leaving the convent," said the Prince,'; this
good monk (seizing upon the nearest by his cowl,) Father Nicholas or Boniface —---
" Poor brother Cyprian, at your Highness's cominmnand," said the father.




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
"Ay, ay, brother Cyprian," continued the Prince,
yes.  Brother Cyprian shall let you out at some secret
passage which he knows of, and I will see him  again to
pay a Prince's thanks for it."
The churchman bowed in acquiescence, and poor
Louise, who, during this debate, had looked fironi the one
speaker to the other, hastily said, " I will not scandalize
this good man with my foolish garb-I have a mantle for
ordinary wear."
"1Why, there, Smith, thou hast a friar's hood and a
woman's mantle to shroud thee under.  I would all my
frailties were as well shrouded! Farewell, honest fellow;
I wxill thank thee hereafter."
Then, as if afraid of farther objection on the Smith's
part, he hastened into the palace.
Henry Gow remained stupified at what had passed,
and at finding himself involved in a charge at once inferring much danger, and an equal risk of scandal, both
which, joined to a principal share which he had taken,
with his usual forwardness, in the fray, might, he saw, do
himn no small injury in the suit he pursued most anxiously.
At the same time, to leave a defenceless creature to the
ill usage of the barbarous Galwegians, and licentious followers of the Douglas, was a thought which his manly
heart could not brook for an instant.
He was roused from  his reverie by the voice of the
Monk, who, sliding out his words with the indifference
which the holy fathers entertained, or affected, towards
all temporal matters, desired them to follow him. The
Smith put himself in motion, with a sigh much resembling
a groan, and, without appearing exactly connected with
the TMonk's motions, he followed him into a cloister, and
through a postern door, which, after looking once behind
him, the priest left ajar.  Behind them followed Louise,
who had hastily assumed her small bundle, and, calling
her little four-legged companion, had eagerly followed in
Jie path which opened an escape from wlhat had shortly
Defore seemed a great and inevitable danger.




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.              15 7
CHAPTER XII.
Then up and spak the auld gudewife,
And wow! but she was grim:
" Had eecr your father done the like,
It had been ill for him."
LUCKY TRUMBULL.
THE party were now, by a secret passage, admitted
within the church, the outward doors of which, usually
left open, had been closed against every one in consequence of the recent tumult, when the rioters of both
parties had endeavoured to rush into it for other purposes
than those of devotion.  They traversed the gloomy
aisles, whose arched roof resounded to the heavy tread
of the armourer, but was silent under the sandal'd foot of
the Monk, and the light step of poor Louise, who trembled excessively, as much from fear as cold.   She saw
that neither her spiritual nor temporal conductor looked
kindly upon her.  The former was an austere man, whose
aspect seemed to hold the luckless wanderer in some degree of horror, as well as contempt; while the latter,
though, as we have seen, one of the best-natured men
living, was at present grave to the pitch of sternness, and
not a little displeased with having the part he was playing
forced upon him, without, as he was constrained to feel,
a possibility of his declining it.
His dislike at his task extended itself to the innocent
object of his protection, and he internally said to himself,
as he surveyed her scornfully,-" A  proper queen of
beggars to walk the streets of Perth with, and I a decent
burgher! This tawdry minion must have as ragged a
reputation as the rest of her sisterhood, and I am finely
sped if my chivalry in her behalf comes to Catharine's
ears.  I had better Lave slain a man, were he the best in
Perth; and, by hammer and nails! I would have done
it on provocation, rather than convoy this baggage through
the city."
Perhaps Louise suspected the cause of her conductor's
anxiety, for she said, timidly and with hesitation, " Wor14  VOL. 1.




158           ST. VALENTINE I DAY.
t.y sir, were it not better I should stop one instant'n th!
chapel, and don my mantle?"
" Umph, sweetheart, well proposed,'" said the armourer; but the Monk interfered, raising at the same time.
the finger of interdiction.
"' The Chapel of Holy St. Madox is no tiring-room
for  jugglers  and  strollers to shift their trappings in.
I will presently show thee a vestiary more suited to thy
condition."
The poor young woman hung down her humbled head,
and turned fiom the chapel door which she had approached, with the deep sense of self-abasement.  lHer little
spaniel seemed to gather from his mistress's looks and
manner, that they were unauthorized intruders on the
holy ground which they trode, and hung his ears, and
swept the pavement with his tail, as hle trotted slowly and
close to Louise's heels.
The Mlonk moved on without a pause.  They descended a broad flight of steps, and proceeded through
a labyrinth of subterranean passages, dimly lighted. As
they passed a low-arched door, the Monk turned, and said
to Louise, with the same stern voice as before, — " There,
daughter of folly, there is a robing-room, where many
before you have deposited their vestments!"
Obeying the least signal with ready and timorous acquiescence, she pushed the door open, but instantly recoiled with terror.  It was a charnel-house, half filled
with dry skulls and bones.
" I fear to change my dress there, and alone —But if
you, father, command it, be it as you will."
" Why, thou child of vanity, the remains on which thou
looliest are but the earthly attire of those who, in their
day, led or followed in the pursuit of worldly pleasure.
And such shalt thou be, for all thy mincing and ambling,
thy piping and thy harping; thou, and all such ministers
of frivolous and worldly pleasure, must become like Ithese
poor bones, whom thy idle nicety fears and loaths to look
upon."




ST. VAALE'NTINE S DAY.            159
" Say not with idle nicety, reverend father," answered
the glee-maiden, " for Heaven knows, I covet the repose
of these poor bleached relics; and if by stretching my
body upon them, I could, without sin, bring my state to
theirs, I would choose that charnel-heap for my place of
rest, beyond the fairest and softest couch in Scotland."' IBe patient, and come on," said the Monk, in a milder tone; " the reaper must not leave the harvest-work
till sunset gives the signal that the day's toil is over."
They walked forward.  Brother Cyprian, at the end
of a long gallery, opened the door of a small apartment,
or perhaps a chapel, for it was decorated with a crucifix,
before which burned four lamps   All bent and crossed
themselves; and the priest said to the minstrel maiden,
pointing to the crucifix, "X What says that emblem?"'4 That HE invites the sinner as well as the righteous te
approach."
" Ay, if the sinner put from him his sin," said the
Monk, whose tone of voice was evidently milder. " Prepare thyself here for thy journey."
Louise remained an instant or two in the chapel, and
presently reappeared in a mantle of coarse grey cloth, in
which she had closely muffled herself, having put such of
her more gaudy habiliments as she had time to take off,
in the little basket which had before held her ordinary
attire.
The Monk presently afterwards unlocked a door which
led to the open air. They found themselves in the garden which surrounded the monastery of the Dominicans.
" The southern gate is on the latch, and through it you
can pass unnoticed," said the Monk. " Bless thee, my
son; and bless thee too, unhappy child. Remembering
where you put off your idle trinkets, may you take care
how you again resume them!"
" Alas, father!" said Louise, "c if the poor foreigner
could supply the mere wants of life by any more creditable occupation, she has small wish to profess her idle art
But —---




160           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
But the Monk had vanished, nay, the very door throughl
which she had just passed appeared to have vanished
also, so curiously was it concealed beneath a flying buttress, and among the profuse ornaments of Gothic architecture.  " Here is a woman let out by this private postern, sure enough," was Henry's reflection.  " Pray
Heaven, the good fathers never let any in! The place
seems convenient for such games at bo-peep.-But, benedicite, what is to be done next? I must get rid of this
quean as fast as I can; and I must see her safe. For
let her be at heart what she may, she looks too modest
now she is in decent dress, to deserve the usage which
the Wild Scot of Galloway, or the Devil's legion from
the Liddell, are like to afford her."
Louise stood as if she waited his pleasure which way
to go. Her little dog, relieved by the exchange of the
dark subterranean vault for the open air, sprung in wild
gambols through the walks, and jumped upon its mistress;
and even, though more timidly, circled close round the
Smith's feet, to express its satisfaction to him also, and
conciliate his favour.
" Down, Chariot, down!" said the glee-maiden.
"You are glad to get into the blessed sunshine; but
where shall we rest at night, my poor Chariot?"
"' And now, mistress," said the Smith, —not churlishly,
for it was not in his nature, but bluntly, as one who is
desirous to finish a disagreeable employment,-" which
way lies your road?"
Louise looked on the ground, and was silent.  On
being again urged to say which way she desired to be
conducted, she again looked down, and said, she could
not tell.
"Come, come," said Henry, " I understand all that
— I have been a gallicard-a reveller in my day-but it's
best to be plain. As matters are with me now, I am an
altered man for these many, many months; and so, my
quean, you and I must part sooner than perhaps a light
o'love such as you expected to part with-a likely young
fellow."




ST. VALENTINE 9S DAY.             161
Loulse wept silently, with her eyes still cast on the
ground, as one who felt an insult which she had not a
right to complain of. At length, perceiving that her conductor was grown impatient, she faltered out, " Noble
sir - -"
" Sir is for a knight," said the impatient burgher,'" and
noble is for a baron. I am Harry of the Wynd, an honest mechanic, and free of my guild."
" Good craftsman, then," said the minstrel woman,
" you judge me harshly, but not without seeming cause.
I would relieve you immlediately of my company, which,
it may be, brings little credit to good men, did 1 but know
which way to go."
" To the next wake or fair, to be sure," said Henry,
roughly, having no doubt that this distress was affected
for the purpose of palming herself upon him, and perhaps
dreading to throw himself into the way of temptation;
-" and that is the feast of St. Madox, at Auchterarder.  I
warrant thou wilt find the way thither well enough."
"Aftr-Auchter-" repeated the glee-maiden, her
southern tongue in vain attempting the Celtic accentuation.'c I am told my poor lays will not be understood
if I go nearer to yon dreadful range of mountains."
"Will you abide, then, in Perth?"
" But where to lodge?" said the wanderer.
" Why, where lodged you last night?" replied the
Smith. 1" You know where you came from surely, though
you seem doubtful where you are going?"
I slept in the hospital of the Convent.  But I was
only admitted upon tgreat importunity, and I was commanded not to return."'" Nay, they will never take you in with the ban  of
the Douglas upon you, that is even too true. But the
Prince mentioned Sir John Ramorny's-I can take you
to ihis lodgings through by-streets-though it is short o,
an honest burglher's office, and my time presses."
14*  voL. I.




162           ST. VALENTINE IS DAY.
" I will go any where-I know I am a scandal and
incumbrance. There was a time when it was otherwise
-But this Ramorny, who is he?"'" A courtly knight, who lives a jolly bachelor's life,
and is Master of the Horse, and privado, as they say, to
the young Prince."
" What! to the wild, scornful young man who gave
occasion to yonder scandal?-Oh, take me not thither,
good friend! Is there no Christian woman, who would
give a poor creature rest in her cow-house, or barn, for
one night? I will be gone with early daybreak. I will
repay her richly. I have gold-and I will repay you too,
if you will take me where I may be safe from that wild
reveller, and from the followers of that dark Baron, in
whose eye was death."'
6C Keep your gold for those who lack it, mistress," said
Henry, " and do not offer to honest hands the money that
is won by violing, and tabouring, and toe-tripping, and
perhaps worse pastimes.  I tell you plainly, mistress, I
am not to be fooled. I am ready to take you to any place
of safety you can name, for my promise is as strong as
an iron shackle.  But you cannot persuade me that you
do not know what earth to make for.  You are not so
young in your trade as not to know there are hostelries in
every town, much more in a city like Perth, where such
as you may be harboured for your money, if you cannot
find some gulls, more or fewer, to pay your lawing. If
you have money, mistress, my care about you needhbe
the less; and truly I see little but pretence in all that exce.sive grief, and fear of being left alone, in one of your
occupation."
Hlaving thus, as he conceived, signified that he was not
to be deceived by the ordinary arts of a glee-maiden,
Henry walked a few paces sturdily, endeavouring to think
he was doing the wisest and most prudent thing in the
world. Yet he could not help looking back to see how
Louise bore his departure, and was shocked to observe
that she had sunk upon a bank, with her arms resting on




ST. VALENTINE 9S DAY.            163
her knees, and her head on her arms, in a situation expressive of the utmost desolation.
The Smith tried to harden his heart. "' It is all a sham,"
he said; " the gouge* knows her trade-I'll be sworn,
by Saint Ringan."
At the instant, something pulled the skirts of his cloak
and, looking round, he saw the little spaniel, who immediately, as if to plead his mistress's cause, got on his hind
legs and began to dance, whimpering at the same time,
and looking back to Louise, as if to solicit compassion
for his forsaken owner.'" Poor thing," said the Smith,'" there may be a trick
in this too, for thou dost but as thou art taught.-Yet, as
I promised to protect this poor creature, I must not leave
her in a swoon, if it be one, were it but for manhood's
sake."
Returning and approaching his troublesome charge, he
was at once assured, from the change of her complexion,
either that she was actually in the deepest distress, or had
a power of dissimulation beyond the comprehension of
man-or woman either."
" Young woman;" he said, with more of kindness than
he had hitherto been able even to assume, " I will tell
you frankly how I amn placed.  This is St. Valentine's
Day, and by custom, I was to spend it with my fair Valentine. But blows and quarrels have occupied all the
morning, save one poor half hour.  Now, you may well
understand where my heart and my thoughts are, and
where, were it only in mere courtesy, my body ought to
be."
The glee-maiden listened, and appeared to comprehiend him.
" If you are a true lover, and have to wait upon a
chaste Valentine, God forbid that one like me should
make a disturbance between you! Think about me no
more.  I will ask of that great river to be my guide to
where it meets tbhe ocean, where I think they said there
Gouge, in old French. is almost equivalent to wench.




164           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
was a sea-port; I will sail from thence to La Belle France
and will find myself once more in a country, in which the
roughest peasant would not wrong the poorest female."
" You cannot go to Dundee to-day," said the Smith.
"The Douglas people are in motion on both sides of
the river, for the alarm of the morning has reached them
ere now; and all this day, and the next, and the whole
night which is between, they will gather to their leader's
standard, like Highlandmen at the fiery cross. Do you
see yonder five or six men, who are riding so wildly on
the other side of the river? These are Annandale men;
I know them by the length of their lances, and by the
way they hold them. An Annandale man never slopes his
spear backwards, but always keeps the point upright, or
pointed forward."
" And what of them?" said the glee-maiden.  " They
are men-at-arms and soldiers —They would respect me
for my viol and my helplessness."
"' 1 will say them no scandal," answered the Smith.
" If you were in their own glens, they would use you
hospitably, and you would have nothing to fear; but they
are now on an expedition. All is fish that comes to their
net. There are amongst them who would take your life
for the value of your gold ear-rings.  Their whole soul
is settled in their eyes to see prey, and in their hands to
grasp it. They have no ears either to hear lays of music, or listen to prayers for mercy. Besides, their leader's
order is gone forth concerning you, and it is of a kind sure
to be obeyed.  Ay, great lords are sooner listened to if
they say,' Burn a church,' than if they say,' Build one.'"
"Then," said the glee-woman, "I were best sit down
and die."'" Do not say so," replied the Smith.  "If I could but
get you a lodging for the night, I would carry you the next
morning to Our Lady's Stairs, from whence the vessels
go down the river for Dundee, and would put you or:
board with some one bound that way, who should see you
safely lodged where you would have fair entertainment
and kind usage."




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.             165
" Good-excellent-generous man!" said the gleemaiden,'" do this, and if the prayers and blessings of a
poor unfortunate should ever reach Heaven, they will rise
thither in thy behalf.  We will meet at yonder postern
door, at whatever time the boats take their departure."
" That is at six in the morning, when the day is but
young."
" Away with you, then, to your Valentine; —and if she
loves you, oh, deceive her not!"
"Alas, poor damsel! I fear it is deceit hath brought
thee to this pass.  But I must not leave you thus unprovided. I must know where you are to pass the night."
" Care not for that," replied Louise —" the heavens
are clear-there are bushes and boskets enough by the
river side; Charlot and I can well make a sleeping-room
of a green arbour for one night; and to-morrow will, with
your promised aid, see me out of reach of injury and
wrong. Oh, the night soon passes away when there is
hope for to-morrow!-Do you still linger, with your Valentine waiting for you? Nay, I shall hold you but a loitering lover, and you know what belongs to a minstrel's
reproaches."
" I cannot leave you, damsel," answered the armourer,
now completely melted. "' It were mere murder to suffer
you to pass the night exposed to the keenness of a Scottish blast in February.  No, no-my word would be ill
kept in this manner; and if I should incur some risk of
blame, it is but just penance for thinking of thee, and using
thee, more according to my own prejudices, as I now well
believe, than thy merits. Come with me, damsel-thou
shalt have a sure and honest lodging for the night, whatsoever may be the consequence. It would be an evil
compliment to my Catharine, were I to leave a poor cieature to be starved to death, that I might enjoy her company an hour sooner."
So saying, and hardening himself against all anticipations of the ill consequences or scandal which might arise
from such a measure, the manly-hearted Smith resolved
to set evil report at defiance, and give the wanderer a




166          ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
night's refuge in his own house. It must be added, that
lie did this with extreme reluctance, and in a sort of en
thusiasmn of benevolence.
Ere our stout son of Vulcan had fixed his worship on the
Fair Maid of Perth,a certain natural wildness of disposition
had placed him under the influence of Venus, as well as
that of Mars; and it was only the effect of a sincere attachment which had withdrawn him  entirely from such
licentious pleasures. He was therefore justly jealous of
his newly-acquired reputation for constancy, which his
conduct to this poor wanderer must expose to suspicion
-a little doubtful, perhaps, of exposing himself too venturously to temptation-and moreover in despair to lose
so much of St. Valentine's Day, which custom not only
permitted, but enjoined him to pass beside his mate for
the season. The journey to Kinfauns, and the various
transactions which followed, had consumed the day, and
it was now nearly even-song time.
As if to make up by a speedy pace for the time he was
compelled to waste upon a subject so foreign to that
which he had most at heart, he strode on through the
Dominican's gardens, entered the town, and casting his
cloak around the lower part of his face, and pulling down
his bonnet to conceal the upper, he continued the same
celerity of movement through by-streets and lanes, hoping
to reach his own house in the Wynd without being observed. But when he had continued his rate of walking
for ten minutes, he began to be sensible it might be too
rapid for the young woman to keep up with him. He
accordingly looked behind him with a degree of angry
impatience, which soon turned into compunction, when
he saw that she was almost utterly exhausted by the speed
which she had exerted.
" Now, marry, hang me up for a brute," said Henry to
himself.'" Was my own haste ever so great, could it give
that poor creature wings? And she loaded with baggage
too! I am an ill-nurtured beast, that is certain, wherever
women are in question; and always sure to do wrong




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              167
when 1 have the best will to act right. —Hark thee, damsel; let me carry these things for thee.  We shall make
better speed that I do so."
Poor Louise would have objected, but her breath was
too much exhausted to express herself; and she permitted
her good-natured guardian to take her little basket, which
when the dog beheld, he came straight before Henry,
stood up, and shook his fore-paws, whining gently, as if
he too wanted to be carried.
" Nay, then, I must needs lend thee a lift too," said
the Smith, who saw the creature was tired.
" Fie, Charlot!" said Louise; " thou knowest I will
carry thee myself."
She endeavoured to take up the little spaniel, but it
escaped from  her; and going to the other side of the
Smith, renewed its supplication that he would take it up
" Charlot's right," said the Smith; " he knows best
who is ablest to bear him. This lets me know, my pretty
one, that you have not been always the bearer of your
own mail-Charlot can tell tales."
So deadly a hue came across the poor glee-maiden's
countenance as Henry spoke, that he was obliged to support her, lest she should have dropped to the ground.
She recovered again, however, in an instant or two, and
with a feeble voice, requested her guide would go on.
" Nay, nay," said Henry, as they began to move,
" keep hold of my cloak, or my arm, if it helps you forward better. A fair sight we are; and had I but a rebeck
or guitar at my back, and a jackanapes on my shoulder,
we should seem as joyous a brace of strollers as ever
touched string at a castle gate.-'Snails!" he ejaculated
internally, " were any neighbour to meet me with this
little harlotry's basket at my back, her dog under my arm,
and herself hanging on my cloak, what could they think
but that I had turned mumper in good earnest? I would
not for the best harness I ever laid hammer on, that any
of our long-tongued neighbours met me in this guise; it
were a jest would last from St. Valentine's Day to next
Candlemas."




168           ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.
Stirred by these thoughts, tile Smith, although at the
risk of making much longer a route which he wished to
traverse as swiftly as possible, took the most indirect and
private course which he could find in order to avoid the
main streets, still crowded with people, owing to the late
scene of tumult and agitation.  But unhappily his policy
availed him nothing; for in turning into an alley, he met
a man with his cloak muffled around his face, from a
desire like his own to pass unobserved, though the slight
insignificant figure, the spindle-shanks, which showed
themselves beneath the mantle, and the small dull eye
that blinked over its upper folds, announced the Pottingar as distinctly as if he had carried hissign in front of
his bonnet. His unexpected and most unwelcome presence overwhelmed the Smith with confusion. Ready
evasion was not the property of his bold, blunt temper;
and knowing this man to be a curious observer, a malig-.
nant tale-bearer, and by no means well disposed to himself in particular, no better hope occurred to him than
that the worshipful apothecary would give him some pretext to silence his testimony, and secure his discretion, by
twisting his neck round.
But far from doing or saying anything which could
warrant such extremities, the Pottingar, seeing himself so
close upon his stalwart townsman that recognition was
inevitable, seemed determined it should be as slight as
possible; and without appearing to notice anything particular in the company or circumstances in which they
met, he barely slid out these words as he passed him, without even a glance towards his companion after the first
instant of their meeting, —" A merry holiday to you once
more, stout Smith.  What! thou art bringing thy cousin,
pretty Mistress Joan Letham, with her mail, from the
water-side —fresh from Dundee, I warrant? I heard she
was expected at the old cordwainer's.'
As hlie spoke thus, he looked neither right nor left, and
exchanging a " Save you!" with a salute of the same
kind which the Smith rather muttered than uttered distinctly, he glided forward on his way like a shadow.




5Tsr  VKALENTINE S DAY.          169
" The foul fiend catch me, if I can swallow that pill,"
said Henry Smith, " how well soever it may be gilded.
The knave has a shrewd eye for a kirtle, and knows a
wild-duck from a tame, as well as e'er a man in PerthHe were the last in the Fair City to take sour plums for
pears, or my round-about cousin Joan for this piece of
fantastic vanity. I fancy his bearing was as much as to
say, I will not see what you might wish ine blind to-and
he is right to do so, as he might easily purchase himself
a broken pate by meddling with my matters —and so he
will be silent for his oxvn sake. But whom have we next
— By St. Dunstan! the chattering, bragging, cowardly
knave, Oliver Proudlute!"
It was, indeed, the bold Bonnet-maker whom they next
encountered, who, with his cap on one side, and trolling
the ditty of
" Thou art over long at the pot, Tom, Tom,"
gave plain intimation that he had made no dry meal.
"Ha! my jolly Smith," he said, " have I caught thee
in the manner?-What, can the true steel bend? —Can
Vulcan, as the minstrel says, pay Venus back in her own
coin?-Faith, thou wilt be a gay Valentine before the
year's out, that begins with the holiday so jollily."
" Hark ye, Oliver," said the displeased Smith, "' shut
your eyes and pass on, crony. And hark ye again, stir
not your tongue about what concerns you not, as you
value having an entire tooth in your head."
" I betray counsel?-I bear tales, and that against my
brother martialist? —-I scorn it-I would not tell it even
to my timber Soldan!-Why, I can be a wild galliard in
a corner as well as thou, man-And now I think on't, I
will go with thee somewhere, and we will have a rouse
together, and thy Dalilah shall give us a song. Ha! said
I not well?"
" Excellently," said Henry, longing the whole time to
knock his brother martialist down, but wisely taking a
more peaceful way to rid himself of the incumbrance of
15  rOLn. 1.




170           ST. VALENTlNE S DAY.
his pr3sence-"- Excellently well!-I may want thy hell
too —for here are five or six of the Douglasses before us
-they will not fail to try to take the wench fiom a poor
burgher like myself, so I will be glad of the assistance of
a tearer such as thou art."
" I thank ye —I thank ye," answered the Bonnetmaker; 6 but were I not better run, and cause ring the
common bell, and get my great sword?"
" Ay, ay-run home as fast as you can, and say nothing of what you have seen."
"Who, I?-Nay, fear me not.  Pah! I scorn a talebearer."
" Away with you, then;-I[ hear the clash of armnour."
This put life and mettle into the heels of the Bonnetmaker, who, turning his back on the supposed danger,
set off at a pace which the Smith never doubted would
speedily bring him to his own house.
" Here is another chattering jay to deal with," thought
the Smith; " but I have a hank over him too.  The mninstrels have a fabliau of a daw with borrowed feathers,why, this Oliver is the very bird, and, by St. Dunstan, if
he lets his chattering tongue run on at my expense, I will
so pluck him as never hawk plumed a partridge. And
this he knows."
As these reflections thronged on his mind, he had nearly reached the end of his journey; and, with the gleemaiden still hanging on his cloak, exhausted, partly with
fear, partly with fatigue, he at length arrived at the middle of the Wynd, which was honoured with his own habitation, and from which, in the uncertainty that then
attended the application of surnames, he derived one o
his own appellatives. Here, on ordinary days, his furnace
was seen to blaze, and four half-stripped knaves stunned
the neighbourhood with the clang of hammer and stithy.
But St. Valentine's holiday was an excuse for these men
of steel having shut the shop, and for the present beina
absent on their own errands of devotion or pleasure.
The house which adjoined to the smithy called Henry its
owner; and though it was small, and situated in a nar.




STl. VrJ:NTINE; S DnAY.           171
row street, yet, as a there was a large garden with fruit
trees behind i it, it constituted upon the whole a pleasant
dwelling.  The Smith, instead of knocking or calling,
which would have drawn neighbours to doors and windows, drew out a pass-key of his own fabrication, then a
great and envied curiosity, and opening the door of his
house, introduced his companion into his habitation.
The apartment which received Henry and the gleemaiden was the kitchen, which served amongst those of
the Smith's station for the family sitting-room, although
one or two individuals, like Simon Glover, had an eatingroom  apart from  that in which their victuals were prepared.  In the corner of this apartment, which was arranged with an unusual attention to cleanliness, sat an old
woman, whose neatness of attire, and the precision xwith
which her scarlet plaid was drawn over her head, so as
to descend to her shoulders on each side, mright have
indicated a higher rank than that of Luckie Shoolbred,
the Smith's housekeeper.  Yet such and no other was her
designation; and not having attended mass in the morning, she was quietly reposing herself by the side of the
fire, her beads, half told, hanging over her left arm; her
prayers, half said, loitering upon her tongue; her eyes,
half closed, resigning themselves to slumber, while she
expected the return of her foster-son, without being able
to guess at what hour it was likely to happen.  She started up at the sound of his entrance, and bent her eye upon
his companion, at first with a look of the utmost surprise,
which gradually was exchanged for one expressive ot
great displeasure.
" Now the Saints bless mine eye-sight,Hlenry Smith!-'
she exclaimed, very devoutly.
" Amen, with all my heart.  Get some food ready
presently, good nurse, for I fear me this traveller hath
dined but lightly."
" And again I pray that Our Lady would preserve my
eye-sight from the wicked delusions of Satan!"




172           ST. ~VA,ENTI.N1, 1) AY.
s So be it, I tell you, good woman.  But what is the
use of all this pattering and prayering? Do you not hear
me? or will you not do as I bid you?"
" It must be himself, then, whatever is of it! But on!
it is more like the foul Fiend in his likeness, to have such
a baggage hanging upon his cloak. —O Harry Smith, men
called you a wild lad for less things! But who would
ever have thought that Harry would have brought a light
leman under the roof that sheltered his worthy mother,
and where his own nurse has dwelt for thirty years!"
"1 Hold your peace, old woman, and be reasonable,'
said the Smith.  " This glee-woman is no leman of mine,
nor of any other person that I know of; but she is going
off for Dundee to-morrow by the boats, and we must give
her quarters till then."
"' Quarters!" said the old woman.    " You may give
quarters to such cattle if you like it yourself, Harry
Wynd; but the same house shall not quarter that trumpery quean and me, and of that you may assure yourself."
" Your mother is angry with me," said Louise, misconstruing the connexion of the parties.  "' i will not
remain to give her any offence. If there is a stable or a
cowhouse, an empty stall will be bed enough for Charlot
and me."
"6 Ay, ay; I am thinking it is the quarters you are best
used to," said Dame Shoolbred.
"6 Hark ye, Nurse Shoolbred," said the Smith.  "You
know I love you for your own sake, and for my mother's;
but by St. Dunstan, who was a saint of my own craft, I
will have the command of my own house; and if you
leave me without any better reason but your own nonsensical suspicions, you must think how you will have the
door open to you when you return; for you shall have
no help of mine, I promise you."
"' Aweel, my bairn, and that will never make me risk
the honest name I have kept for sixty years. It was never
your mother's custom, and it shall never be mine, to take
up with ranters, and jugglers, and singing women; and




ST0 VALENI'INLE IS DAY..73
[ am not so far to seek for a dwelling, that the same rooI
should cover me and a tramping princess like that."
With this the refractory gouvernante began in great
hurry to adjust her tartan mantle for going abroad, by
pulling it so far forward as to conceal the white linen
cap, the edges of which bordered her shrivelled but still
fresh and healthful countenance.  This done, she seized
upon a staff, the trusty companion of her journeys, and
was fairly trudging towards the door, when the Smith
stepped between her and the passage.'W Wait at least, old woman, till we have cleared scores.
I owe you for fee and bountith.". " An' that's e'en a dream of your own fool's head.
WThat fee or bountith am I to take from the son of your
mother, that fed, clad, and bielded me as if I had been a
sister?"
" And well you repay it, nurse, leaving her only child
at his utmost need."
This seemed to strike the obstinate old woman with
compunction.  She stopped and looked at her master and
the minstrel alternately; then shook her head, and seemed about to resume her motion towards the door.
I' I only receive this poor wanderer under my roof,"
urged the Smith, "' to save her from the prison and the
scourge."
" And why should you save her?" said the inexorable
Dame Shoolbred.  "' I dare say she has deserved them
both as well as ever thief deserved a hempen collar."'
s' For aught I know she may, or she may not. But
she cannot deserve to be scourged to death, or imprisoned till she is starved to death; and that is the lot of them
that the Black Douglas bears maltalent against."
" And you are going to thraw the Black Douglas, for
the sake of a glee-woman?  This will be the worst of
vour feuds yet.-Oh, Henry Gow, there is as much iron
in your head as in your anvil!"; 1I have sometimes thought this myself, Mistress Shoolb
bred; but if I do get a cut or two on this new argument
15* vOL. i




174           ST. VALENT'INE'S DAV.
I wonder who is to cure them, if you run away from me
like a scared wild-goose? Ay, and moreover, who is to
receive my bonny bride, that I hope to bring up the Wynd
one of these days?"
"C Ab, Harry, Harry," said the old woman, shaking
her head,' this is not the way to prepare an honest
man's house for a young bride-you should be guided by
modesty and discretion, anld not by chambering and want-onness.'
" I tell you again, this poor creature is nothing to me.
I wish her only to be safely taken care of; and I think
the boldest Borderman in Perth will respect the bar of
my door as much as the gate of Carlisle Castle.-I am
going down to Sim Glover's-I may stay there all night,
for the Highland cub is run back to the hills, like a wolfwhelp as he is, and so there is a bed to spare, and father
Simon will make me welcome to the use of it. You will
remain with this poor creature, feed her, and protect her
during the night, and I will call on her before day; and
thou may'st go with her to the boat thyself and thou wilt,
and so thou wilt set the last eyes on her at the same time
I shall."'" There is some reason in that, said Dame Shoolbred;
C though why you should put your reputation in risk for
a creature that would find a lodging for a silver twopence
and less matter, is a mystery to me."'" Trust me with that, old woman, and be kind to the
girl."
"' Kinder than she deserves, I warrant you; and truly,
though I little like the company of such cattle, yet I think
I am less like to take harm  from her than you-unless
she be a witch, indeed, which may well come to be the.
case, as the devil is very powerful with all this wayfaring
clanjanmfray."
"' No more a witch than I am a warlock," said the
honest Smith; "' a poor broken-hearted thing, that, if she
hath done evil, has dreed a sore weird for it.  Be kind to
ler —And you, my musical damsel- I will call on you
to-morrow morning, and carry you to the water-side




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.                ].7X
This old woman will treat you kindly, if you say notling
to her but what becomes honest ears."
The poor minstrel had listened to this dialogue, without. understanding more than its general tendency; for,
though she spoke English well, she had acquired the language in England itself, and the northern dialect was then,
as now, of a broader and harsher character.  She saw,
however, that she was to remain with the old lady, and
meekly folding her arms on her bosom, bent her head with
humility.  She next looked towards the Smith with a
strong expression of thankfulness, then raising her eyes
to heaven, took his passive hand, and seemed about to
kiss the sinewy fingers, in token of deep and affectionate
gratitude.  But Dame Shoolbred did not give license to
the stranger's mode of expressing her feelings.   She
thrust in between them, and pushing poor Louise aside,
said, " No, no, I'll have none of that work.  Go into the
chimney-nook, mistress, and when Harry Smith's gone,
if you must have hands to kiss, you shall kiss mine as
long as you like.-And you, Harry, away down to Sim
Glover's, for if pretty AM-istress Catharine hears of the
company you have brought home, she may chance to like
them as little as I do. —What's the matter now?-is the
man demented? —are you going out without your buckler,
and the wllole town in misrule?"
"You are right, dame,"' said the armourer; and
throwing the buckler over his broad shoulders, he departedl from his house without abiding farther question.
CHAPTER XlII.
How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills,
Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills
Their mountain pipe, so fill the mountaineers
Wit- the fierce native daring which instils
The stirring memlory of' a thousand years.-BYRON.
WE must now leave the lower parties in our historical
frama, to attend to the incidents which took place among
those of a hIigher rank and greater importance.




176           S'r. YVATENT'IINF, S DAY'.
We pass from thle hut of an armourer, to the councilroom of a nlonarcll; and resume our story just when, the
tumult beneath being settled, the angry chieftains were
summoned to the royal presence. They entered, displeased with and lowering upon each other, each so exclusively filled with his own fancied injuries, as to be
equally unwilling and unable to attend to reason or argument.  Albany alone, calm  and crafty, seemed prepared to use their dissatisfaction for his own purposes,
and turn each incident as it should occur to the furtherance of his own indirect ends.
The King's irresolution, although it amounted even to
timidity, did not prevent his assuming the exterior bearing becoming his situation.  It was only when hard
pressed, as in the preceding scene, that he lost his
apparent composure.  In general, he might be driven
irom  his purpose, but seldom  fiorn his dignity of manner.  He received Albany, Douglas, March, and the
Prior, (those ill-assorted members of his motley council,)
with a mixture of courtesy and loftiness, which reminded
each haughty peer that he stood in the presence of his
Soveteign, and compelled him to do the beseeming reverence.
Having received their salutations, the King motioned
them to be seated; and they were obeying his commands
when Rothsay entered.  He walked gracefully up to his
father, and, kneeling at his footstool, requested his blessing. Robert, with an aspect in which fondness and sorrow
were ill disguised, made an attempt to assume a look of
reproof, as he laid his hand on the youth's head, and said,
with a sigh, " God bless thee, my thoughtless boy, and
make thee a wiser man in thy future years!"
" Amen, my dearest father!" said Rothsay, in a tone
of feeling such as his happier moments often evinced.
He then kissed the royal hand, with the reverence of a
son and a subject; and instead of taking a place at the
council board, remained standing behind the King's chair,
in such a position that he might, wthen he chose, wJvispey
into his father's ear.




ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.             1]77
T'he King next made a sign to the Prior of St. Dominic to take his place at the table, on which there were
writing materials, which, of all the subjects present, Albany excepted, the churchman was alone able to use.33
The King then opened the purpose of their meeting, by
saying, with much dignity,
" Our business, my lords, respected these unhappy
dissensions in the Highlands, which, we learn by our latest
messengers, are about to occasion the waste and destruction of the country, even within a few miles of this our
own court.  But near as this trouble is, our ill fate, and
the instigations of wicked men, have raised up one yet
nearer, by throwing strife and contention among the citizens of Perth and those attendants who follow your lordships, and others our knights and nobles.  I must first,
therefore, apply to yourselves, my lords, to know why our
court is disturbed by such unseemly contendings, and by
what means they ought to be repressed?-Brother of
Albany, do you tell us first your sentiments on this matter."' Sir, our royal Sovereign and brother," said the
Duke, " being in attendance on your Grace's person when
the fray began, I am not acquainted with its origin."
" And for me," ~said the Prince, " I heard no worse
war-cry than a minstrel wench's ballad, and saw no more
dangerous bolts flying than hazel nuts."
"And I," said the Earl of March, " could only perceive that the stout citizens of Perth had in chase some
knaves who had assumed the Bloody Heart on their
shoulders. They ran too fast to be actually the men of
the Earl of Douglas."'
Douglas understood the sneer, but only replied to it by
one of those withering looks with which he was accustomned to intimate his mortal resentment.  He sfoke,
however, with haughty composure.
"L My liege," he said, " must of course know it is
Douglas who must answer to this heavy charge; for when
was there strife or bloodshed in Scotland, but there were
Foul tongues to asperse a Douglas or a Douglas's man, as
having given cause to them?  We have here goodly wit



178           ST. ~VAJENTINE iS DAY.
nesses.  I speak not of my Lord of Albany, who has
only said that he was, as well becomes him, by youi
Grace's side.  And I say nothing of  my Lord of Rothsay, who, as befits his rank, years, and understanding,
was cracking nuts with a strolling musician. — He smiles
-Hiere he may say his pleasure —I shall not forget a tie
which he seems to have forgotten.  But here is my Lord
of iMarch, who saw my followers flying before the clowns
of Perthll! I can tell that Earl, that the followers of the
Bloody Heart advance or retreat, when their chieftain
commands, and the good of Scotland requires."
"' And I can answer-'" exclaimed the equally proud
Earl of Malrch, his blood rushing into his face, when the
King interrupted him,
" Peace! angry lords," said the King, 6" and remember in whose presence you stand!-And you, my Lord
of Douglas, tell us, if you can, the cause of this mutiny
and why your followers, whose general good services we
are most willing to acknowledge, were thus active in
private brawl?"
"  obey, my lord," said Douglas, slightly stooping a
head that seldom bent.  "I was passing from my lodgings in the Carthusian Convent, through the High Street
of Perth, with a few of my.ordinary retinue, vwhen I beheld some of the baser sort of citizens crowding around
the Cross, against which there was nailed this placard:
and that which accompanies it."
He took from a pocket in the bosom of his buff-coat,
a human hand and a piece of parchment.  The King was
shocked and agitated.
a Read," he said, s" good Father Prior, and let that
ghastly spectacle be removed."
The Prior read a placard to the following purpose:"' Inasmuch as the house'of a citizen of Perth was as.
saulted last night, being St. Valentine's Eve, by a sort ot
disorderly night-walkers, belonging to some company ot
the strangers now resident in the Fair City: And whereas, this hand was struck from one of the lawless limmers
in the fray that ensued, the Provost and Magistrates have




ST. VALENTINIE'S DAY.             179
directed that it should be nailed to the Cross, in scorn
and contempt of those by whom such brawl was occasioned.  And if any one of knightly degree shall say
that this our act is wrongfully done, I, Patrick Charteris of
Kinfauns, knight, will justify this cartel in knightly weapons, within the barrace; or, if any one of meaner birth
shall deny what is here said, he shall be met with by a
citizen of the Fair City of Perth, according to his degree. And so God and St. John protect the Fair City!"
" You will not wonder, my lord," resumed Douglas,
6" that when my almoner had read to me the contents of
so insolent a scroll, I caused one of my squires to pluck
down a trophy so disgraceful to the chivalry and nobility
of Scotland.  Whereupon, it seems some of these saucy
burghers took license to hoot and insult the hindmost of
my train, who wheeled their horses on them, and would
soon have settled the feud, but for my positive command
that they should follow me in as much peace as the rascally vulgar would permit. And thus they arrived here
in the guise of flying men, when, with my command to
repel force by force, they might have set fire to the four
corners of this wretched borough, and stifled the insolent
churls, like malicious fox-cubs in a burning brake of furze."
There was a silence when Douglas had done speaking,
until the Duke of Rothsay answvered, addressing his
father
" Since the Earl of Douglas possesses the power of
burning the town where your Grace holds your court, so
soon as the Provost and he differ about a night riot, or
the terms of a cartel, I am sure we ought all to be thankful that he has not the will to do so."
"A The Duke of Rothsay," said Douglas, who seemed
resolved to maintain command of his temper, " may have
reason to thank Heaven in a more serious tone than lihe
now uses, that the Douglas is as true as lie is powerfuil.
This is a time when the subjects in all countries rise
against the law; we have heard of the insurgents of the
Jacquerie in France; and of Jack Straw, and Hob Miller, and Parson Ball, among the Southron, and we may




ISO           ST. VALENTINE S DA-Y.
be sure there is fuel enough to catch such a flame, were
it spreading to our frontiers. When I see peasants challenging noblemen, and nailing the hands of the gentry to
their city Cross, I will not say Ifear mutiny-for that
would be false-but 1 foresee, and will stand well prepared for it."
" And why does my Lord Douglas say," answered the
Earl of March, " that this cartel has been done by
churls? I see Sir Patrick Charteris's name there, and
he, I ween, is of no churl's blood.  The Douglas himself, since he takes the matter so warmly, might lift Sir
Patrick's gauntlet without soiling of his honour."
" AMy Lord of March," replied Douglas, " should
speak but of what he understands. I do no injustice to
the descendant of the Red Rover, when I say he is too
slight to be weighed with the Douglas.  The heir of
Thomas Randolph might have a better claim to his answer."'; And, by my honour, it shall not miss for want of my
asking the grace," said the Earl of Alarch, pulling his
glove off.
" Stay, my lord," said the King.  " Do us not so
gross an injury as to bring your feud to mortal defiance
here; but rather offer your ungloved hand in kindness to
the noble Earl, and embrace, in token of your mutual
fealty to the crown of Scotland."
"' Not so, my liege," answered Aarch, I" your Majesty
may command me to return my gauntlet, for that and all
the armour it belongs to are at your command, while I
continue to hold my Earldom of the crown of Scotland
-but when I clasp Douglas, it must be with a mailed
hand.  Farewell, my liege.  My counsels here avail not,
nay, are so unfavourably received, that perhaps farther
stay were unwholesome for my safety.  lMay God keep
your Highness fihom  open enemies and  treacherous
friends!-1 am for my Castle of Dunbar, fiomn whence
I think you will soon hear news.  Farewell to you,
my Lords of Albany and Douglas; you are playing a
igh game, look you play it fairly —Farewell, poor




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.             181
thoughtless Prince, who art sporting like a fawn within
spring of a tiger! —Farewell all-George of Dunbar sees
the evil he cannot remedy.-Adieu, all."
The King would have spoken, but the accents died on
his tongue, as he received from Albany a look cautioning
him to forbear.  The Earl of March left the apartment,
receiving the mute salutations of the members of the
council whom he had severally addressed, excepting from
Douglas alone, who returned to his farewell speech a
glance of contemptuous defiance.'" The recreant goes to betray us to the Southron," he
said;4; his pride rests on his possessing that sea-worn
BHold which can admit the English into Lothian.-Nay,
look not alarmed, my liege, I will hold good what I say
— nevertheless, it is yet time.  Speak but the word, my
liege —say but,'Arrest him,' and March shall not yet
cross the Earn on his traitorous journey."
"' Nay, gallant Earl," said Albany, who wished rather
that the two powerful lords should counterbalance each
other, than that one should obtain a decisive superiority,
"' that were too hasty counsel.  The Earl of March came
hither on the King's warrant of safe-conduct, and it may
not consist with my royal brother's honour to break it.
Yet, if your lordship can bring any detailed proof    "
Here they were interrupted by a flourish of trumpets.
1" His Grace of Albany is unwontedly scrupulous today," said Douglas; " but it skills not wasting wordsthe time is past —these are Mlarch's trumpets, and I warrant me he rides at flight-speed so soon as he passes the
South Port. We shall hear of him in time; and if it be
as I have conjectured, he shall be met with though all
England backed his treachery."
"Nay, let us hope better of the noble Earl," said
the King, no way displeased that the quarrel betwixt
March and Douglas had seemed to obliterate the traces
of the disagreement betwixt Rothsay and his father-in-law;
" he hath a fiery, but not a sullen temper-In some things
he has been-I will not say wronged-but disappointed
16 VOL. I.




182           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
— and something is to be allowed to the resentment of
high blood armed with great power.  But thank Heaven,
all of us who remain are of one sentiment, and, I may
say, of one house; so that, at least, our councils canndt
now  be thwarted with disunion.-Father Prior, I pray
you take your writing materials, for you must as usual be
our clerk of council.-And now to business, my lordsand our first object of consideration must be this Highland
cumber."''" Between the Clan Chattan and the Clan Quhele,"
said the Prior; " which, as our last advices from
our brethren at Dunkeld inform us, is ready to break out
into a more formidable warfare than has yet taken place
between these sons of Belial, who speak of nothing else
thlan of utterly destroying one another.  Their forces are
a -ssembling on each side, and not a man, claiming in the
tenth degree of kindred, but must repair to the Brattach*
of his tribe, or stand to the punishment of fire and sword.
The fiery cross hath flitted about like a meteor in every direction, and awakened strange and unknown tribes beyond
the distant Murray Frith-may Heaven and St. Dominic
be our protection! But if your lordships cannot find remedy
for evil, it will spread broad and wide, and the patrimony
of the Church must in every direction be exposed to the
fury of these Amalekites, with whom there is as little devotion to Heaven, as there is pity or love to their neighbours —may Our Lady be our guard!-We hear some oI
them are yet utter heathens, and worship Mahound and
Termagaunt."
"  My lords and kinsmen," said Robert,'" ye have
heard the urgency of this case, and may desire to know
my sentiments before you deliver what your own wisdom
shall suggest. And, in sooth, no better remedy occurs to
me, than to send two commissioners, with full power from
us to settle such debates as be among them; and at the
same time to charge them, as they shall be answerable to
* Standard-literally, cloth. The Lowland language still retains the
word brat, whieh, however,is only now applicable to a child's pinafore, or a
Coarse towel. To such mean offices may words descend.




ST. VALENTINIE S DAY.             183
the law, to lay down their arms, and forbear all practices
of violence against each other."'; I approve of your Grace's proposal," said Rothsay;
i and I trust the good Prior will not refuse the venerable
station of envoy upon this peace-making errand. And
his reverend brother, the Abbot of the Carthusian convent, must contend for an honour which will certainly add
two most eminent recruits to the large army of martyrs,
since the Highlanders little regard the distinction betwixt
clerk and layman, in the ambassadors whom you send to
them."'; My royal Lord of Rotlisay," said the Prior, " if I
am destined to the blessed crown of martyrdom, I shall
be doubtless directed to the path by which I am to attain
it. Meantime, if you speak in jest, may Heaven pardon
you, and give you light to perceive that it were better
buckle on your arms to guard the possessions of the
Church, so perilously endangered, than to employ your
wit in taunting her rministers and servants."
s" I taunt no one, Father Prior," said the youth, yawn.
ing; " nor have I much objection to taking arms, excepting that they are a somewhat cumbrous garb, and in February a furred mantleis more suiting to the weather than a
steel corslet.  And it irks me the more to put on cold
harness in this nipping weather, that, would but the Church
send a detachment of their saints, (and they have some
Highland ones well known in this district, and doubtless
used to the climate,) they might fight their own battles,
like merry St. George of England. But I know not how
it is, we hear of their miracles when they are propitiated,
and of their vengeance, if any one trespasses on their
patrimonies, and these are urged as reasons for extending
their lands by large largesses; and yet if there come
down but a band of twenty Highlanders, bell, book, and
candle make no speed, and the belted baron must be fain
to maintain the Church in possession of the lands which
he has given to her, as much as if he himself still enjoyed the fruits of them."




184           ST. VALENTINIE'S DAY..
" Son David," said the King; "you give an undue
license to your tongue."
"Nay, sir, I am mute," replied the Prince.  " I had
no purpose to disturb your Highness, or displease the
Father Prior, who, with so many) miracles at his disposal,
will not face, as it seems, a handful of Highland caterans."
W' We know," said the Prior, with suppressed indignation, "1 from what source these vile doctrines are derived,
which we hear with horror from the tongue that now utters
ihem.  When princes converse with heretics, their minds
and manners are alike corrupted. They show themselves
in the streets as the companions of maskers and harlots,
and in the council as the scorners of the Church and of
holy things."
"6 Peace, good Father!" said the King.  " Rothsay
shall make amends fbr what he has idly spoken.  Alas!
let us take counsel in friendly fashion, rather than resemble a mutinous crew of mariners in a sinking vessel, when
each is more intent on quarrelling with his neighbours,
than in assisting the exertions of the forlorn master for
the safety of the ship. —My Lord of Douglas, your house
has been seldom to lack, when the crown of Scotland
desired either wise counsel or manly achievement; I
trust you will help us in this strait?"
" I can only wonder that the strait should exist, my
lord," answered the haughty Douglas. " When I was intrusted with the lieutenancy of the kingdom, there were
some of these wild clans came down from the Grampians.
I troubled not the council about the matter, but made the
Sheriff, Lord Ruthven, get to horse with the forces of the
Carse-the Hays, the Lindsays, the Ogilvies, and other
gentlemen.  By St. Bride! when it was steel coat to
frieze mantle, the thieves knew what lances were good
for, and whether swords had edges or no. There were
some three hundred of their best bonnets, besides that of
their chief, Donald Cormac,* left on the moor of Thorn,
and in Rochinroy Wood; and as many were gibbeted at
" Some authorities place this skirmish so late as 1443.




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              185
Houghman Stairs, which has still the name from the hangman work that was done there.  This is the way men
deal with thieves in my country; and if gentler methods
will succeed better with these Earish knaves, do not blame
Douglas for speaking his mind.-You smile, my Lord of
Rothsay.  May I ask hoxv I have a second time become
your jest, before I have replied to the first which you
passed on me?"
h' Nay, be not wrathful, my good Lord of Douglas,"
answered the Prince; "  I did but smile to think how your
princely retinue would dwindle, if every thief were dealt
with as the poor Highlanders at Houghman Stairs."
The King again interfered, to prevent the Earl from
giving an angry reply.  " Your lordship," said he to
Douglas, " advises wisely that we should trust to arms
when these men come out against our subjects on the fair
and level plain; but the difficulty is to put a stop to their
disorders while they continue to lurk within their mountains. I need not tell you that the Clan Chattan, and the
Clan. Quhele, are great confederacies, consisting each of various tribes, who are banded together, each to support
their own separate league, and who of late have had dissensions which have drawn blood wherever they have met,
whether individually or in bands.  The whole country is
torn to pieces by their restless feuds."
" I cannot see the evil of this," said the Douglas;
" the ruffians will destroy each other, and the deer of the
Highlands will increase as the men diminish.  We shall;gain as hunters the exercise we lose as warriors."
" Rather say that the wolves will increase as the men
diminish," replied the King.
"I am content," said Douglas; " better wild wolves
than wild Caterans.   Let there be strong forces maintained along the  Earish  frontier, to separate the quiet
from the disturbed country. Confine the fire of civil war
within the Highlands; let it spend its uncontrolled fury,
and it will be soon burnt out for wvant of fuel.  The survivors will be humbled, and will be more obedient to a
16*  VOL. T.




186           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
whisper of your Grace's pleasure, than their fathers, or
the knaves that now exist, have been to your strictest
commands."
" This is wise but ungodly counsel," said the Prior,
shaking his head; " I cannot take it upon my conscience
to recommend it. It is wisdom, but it is the wisdom of
Achitophel, crafty at once and cruel."
" My heart tells me so-" said the King, laying his hand
on his breast; " my heart tells me, that it will be asked
of me at the awful day,' Robert Stewart, where are the
subjects I have given thee?' it tells me, that I must account for them all, Saxon and Gael, Lowland, Highland,
and Border man; that I will not be required to answer
for those alone who have wealth and knowledge, but for
those also who were robbers because they were poor, and
rebels because they were ignorant."
"' Your Highness speaks like a Christian King," said
the Prior; " but you bear the sword as well as the sceptre, and this present evil is of a kind which the sword
must cure."
"' Hark ye, my lords," said the Prince, looking up as
if a gay thought had suddenly struck him,-" Suppose
we teach these savage mountaineers a strain of chivalry?
It were no hard matter to bring these two great commanders, the captain of the Clan Clhattan, and the chief of
the no less doughty race of' the Clan Quhele, to defy each
other to mortal combat.  They might fight here in Perth
-we would lend them  horse and armour: thus their
feud would be stanched by the death of one, or probably
both, of the villains, (for I think both would break their
necks in the first charge,) my father's godly desire oi
saving blood would be attained, and we should have the
pleasure of seeing such a combat between LWO salvage
knights, for the first time in their lives wearing breeches,
and mounted on horses, as has not been heard of since
the days of King Artlhur."
" Shame upon you, David!" said the King.  "Do
you make the distress of your native country, and the
perplexity of our councils, a subject for buffoonery?"




ST. VALEANTINE S DAY.             187
"If you will pardon me, royal brother," said Albany,' I think, that though tmy princely nephew hath started
Ihis thought in a jocular manner, there may be something
wrought out of it, which might greatly remedy this pressing evil."
" Good brother," replied the King, " it is unkind to
expose Rothsay's folly by pressing further his ill-timed;est.  We know the Highland clans have not our customs
of chivalry, nor the habit or mode of doing battle which
these require."
" True, your Grace," answered Albany; " yet I
speak not in scorn, but in serious earnest.  True, the
mountaineers have not our forms and mode of doing battle in the lists, but they have those which are as effectual
to the destruction of human life; and so that the mortal
game is played, and the stake won and lost, what signifies
it whether these Gael fight with sword and lance, as becomes belted knights, or with sand-bags, like the crestless churls of England, or butcher each other with knives
and skeans, in their own barbarous fashion? Their habits,
like our own, refer all disputed rights and claims to the
decision of battle.  They are as vain, too, as they are
fierce; and the idea that these two clans would be admitted to combat in presence of your Grace and of your
court, will readily induce them to refer their difference
to the fate of battle, even were such rough arbitrement
less familiar to their customs, and that in any such numbers as shall be thought most convenient.  We must take
care that they approach not the court, save in such a
fashion and number that they shall not be able to surprise
us; and that point being provided against, the more that
shall be admitted to combat upon either side, the greater
will be the slaughter among their bravest and most stirring men, and the more the chance of the Highlands being quiet for some time to come."
" This were a bloody policy, brother," said the King
cc and again I say, that I cannot bring my conscience to
countenance the slaughter of these rude men, that are so,ittle better than so many benighted heathens."




183           ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.' And are their lives more precious," asked Albany,' than those of nobles and gentlemen who by your Grace's
license are so frequently admitted to fight in barrace,
either for the satisfying of disputes at law, or simply to
acquire honour?"
The King, thus hard pressed, had little to say against a
custom so engrafted upon the laws of the realm and the
usages of chivalry, as the trial by combat; and he only
replied, " God knows, I have never granted such license
as you urge me with, unless with the greatest repugnance;
and that I never saw men have strife together to the effusion of blood, but I could have wished to appease it with
the shedding of my own."'l But, my gracious lord," said the Prior, " it seems
that if we follow not some such policy as this of my Lord
of Albany, we must have recourse to that of the Douglas;
and, at the risk of the dubious event of battle, and with
the certainty of losing many excellent subjects, do, by
means of the Lowland swords, that which these wild
mountaineers will otherwise perform with their own hand.
— What says my Lord of Douglas to the policy of his
Grace of Albany?"
"- Douglas," said the haughty lord, " never counselled that to be done by policy which might be attained by
open force. He remains by his opinion, and is willing to
march at the head of his own followers, with those of the
Barons of Perthshire and the Carse; and either bring
these Highlanders to reason or subjection, or leave the
body of a Douglas among their savage wildernesses."
" It is nobly spoken, my Lord of Douglas," said Albany; "and well might the King rely upon thy undaunted
heart, and the courage of thy resolute followers.  But see
you not how soon you may be called elsewhere, where
your presence and services are altogether indispensable to
Scotland and her Monarch? MAarked you not the gloomy
tone in which the fiery March linited his allegiance and
faith to our Sovereign here present, to that space for
which he was to remain King Robert's vassal? And did
not you yourself suspect that he was plotting a trans



ST. VALENTINE S DAY.             189
terence of his allegiance to England? —Other chiefs, of'
subordinate power and inferior fame, may do battle with
the Highlanders; but if Dunbar admit the Percies and
their Englishmen into our frontiers, who will drive them
back if the Douglas be elsewhere?"
" My sword," answered Douglas, " is equally at the
service of his Majesty, on the frontier, or in the deepest
recesses of the Highlands. I have seen the backs of the
proud Percy and George of Dunbarere now, and I may see
them again. And, if it is the King's pleasure I should
take measures against this probable conjunction of stranger and traitor, I admit that, rather than trust to an inferior or feebler hand the important task of settling the Highlands, I would be disposed to give my opinion in favour
of the policy of my Lord of Albany, and suffer those
savages to carve each other's limbs, without giving barons
and knights the trouble of hunting them down."'; My Lord of Douglas," said the Prince, who seemed
determined to omit no opportunity to gall his haughty
father-in-law, " does not choose to leave to us Lowlanders
even the poor crumbs of honour which might be gathered
at the expense of the Highland kerne, while he, with his
Border chivalry, reaps the full harvest of victory over
the English. But Percy hath seen men's backs as well
as Douglas; and I have known as great wonders as that
he who goes forth to seek such wool should come back
shorn."
"A phrase," said Douglas, " well becoming a prince,
who speaks of honour with a wandering harlot's scrip in
his bonnet, by way of favour."
" Excuse it, my lord," said Rothsay; "men who have
matched unfittingly become careless in the choice of those
whom they love par amours. The chained dog must
snatch at the nearest bone."
"Rothsay, my unhappy son!" exclaimed the King,
" art thou mad? or wouldst thou draw down on thee the
full storm of a king and father's displeasure?"' I am dumb," returned the Prince, " at your Grace's
commnand."




190           ST. VALENTINE IS DAY.
" Well then my lord of Albany," said the King, " since
such is your advice, and since Scottish blood must flow,
how, I pray you, are we to prevail on these fierce men to
refer their quarrel to such a combat as you propose?"
"That, my liege," said Albany, " must be the result of
more mature deliberation.  But the task will not be difficult.  Gold will be needful to bribe some of the bards,
and principal counsellors and spokesmen. The chiefs,
moreover, of both these leagues must be made to understand, that, unless they agree to this amicable settlement    "
".Amicable, brother!" said the King, with emphasis.' Ay, amicable, my liege," replied his brother, " since
it is better the country were placed in peace, at the expense of losing a score or two of Highland kernes, than
remain at war till as many thousands are destroyed by
sword, fire, famine, and all the extremities of mountain
battle.  To return to the purpose; I think that the first
party to whom the accommodation is proposed will snatch
at it eagerly; that the other will be ashamed to reject an
offer to rest the cause on the swords of their bravest men;
that the national vanity, and factious hate to each other,
will prevent them from seeing our purpose in adopting
such a rule of decision; and that they will be more eager
to cut each other to pieces, than we can be to halloo them
on.-And now, as our counsels are finished, so far as I
can aid, I will withdraw."
a' Stay yet a moment," said the Prior, "' for I also have
a grief to disclose, of a nature so black and horrible, that
your Grace's pious heart will hardly credit its existence;
and I state it mournfully, because, as certain as that I am
an unworthy servant of St. Dominic, it is the cause o.
the displeasure of Heaven against this poor country; by
which our victories are turned into. defeat, our gladness
into mourning, our councils distracted with disunion, and
our country devoured by civil war."
"6 Speak, reverend Prior," said the King; " assuredly,
-f the cause of such evils be in me, or in my house, I will
take instant care to their removal."




ST. VALENTINE'9S DAY.             191
He uttered these words with a faltering voice, and eagerly waited for the Prior's reply, in the dread, no doubt,
that it might implicate Rothsay in some new charge of
folly or vice.  His apprehensions perhaps deceived him,
when he thought he saw the churchman's eye rest for a
moment on the Prince, before he said, in a solemn tone,
~' Heresy, my noble and gracious Liege, heresy is
among us.  She snatches soul after soul from the congregation, as wolves steal lambs firom the sheepfold."
"There are enough of shepherds to watch the fold."
answered the Duke of Rothsay.  " Here are four convents of regular monks alone, around this poor hamlet ot
Perth, and all the secular clergy besides.  Methinks a
town so well garrisoned should be fit to keep out an
enemy."
" One traitor in a garrison, my lord," answered the
Prior, " can do much to destroy the security of a city
which is guarded by legions; and if that one traitor is,
either from levity, or love of novelty, or whatever other
motive, protected and fostered by those who should be
most eager to expel him from the fortress, his opportunities of working mischief will be incalculably increased."
4' Your words seem to aim at some one in this presence,
Father Prior," said the Douglas; 1" if at me, they do me
foul wrong. I am well aware that the Abbot of Aberbrothock hath made some ill-advised complaints, that I
suffered not his beeves to become too many for his pastures, or his stock of grain to burst the girnels of the Monastery, while my followers lacked beef, and their horses
corn.  But bethink you, the pastures and corn-fields
which produced that plenty, were bestowed by my ancestors on the house of Aberbrothock, surely not with the
purpose that their descendant should starve in the midst
of it; and neither will he, by St. Bride! But for heresy
and false doctrine," he added, striking his large hand
heavily on the council-table, " who is it that dare tax the
Douglas? I would not have poor men burned for silly
thoughts; but my hand and sword are ever ready to maintain the Christian faith."




192           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
" My lord, I doubt it not," said the Prior; "so hath it
ever been with your most noble house.  For the Abbot's
complaints, they may pass to a second day. But what
we now desire, is a comrlnssion to some noble lord of state,
joined to others of Holy Church, to support by strength
of hand, if necessary, the inquiries which the reverend
official of the bounds, and other grave prelates, my unworthy self being one, are about to make into the cause
of the new doctrines, which are now deluding the simple,
and depraving the pure and precious faith, approved by
the Holy Father and his reverend predecessors."
" Let the Earl of Douglas have a royal commission to
this effect," said Albany; "' and let there be no exception
whatever from his jurisdiction, saving the royal person.
For my own part, although conscious that I have neither
in act nor thought received or encouraged a doctrine
which Holy Church hath not sanctioned; yet I should
blush to claim an immunity under the blood royal of Scotland, lest I should seem to be seeking refuge against a
crime so horrible."
" I will have nought to do with it —" said Douglas;
"to march against the English, and the Southron traitor
March, is task enough for me.  Moreover, I am a true
Scotsman, and will not give way to aught that may put
the Church of Scotland's head farther into the Raman
yoke, or make the baron's coronet stoop to the mitre and
cowl. Do you, therefore, most noble Duke of Albany,
place your own name in the commission; and I pray your
grace so to mitigate the zeal of the men of Holy Church,
wiho may be associated with you, that there be no over
zealous dealings; for the smell of a fagot on the Tay
would bring back the Douglas from the walls of York."
The Duke hastened to give the Earl assiirance, that
the commission should be exercised with lenity and moderation.
" Witbholt a question," said King Robert, " the commission must be ample; and did it consist with the dignity of our crown, we would not ourselves decline its
urisdiction. But we trust, that while the thunders of the




S'r. VALEIATIN] is  Dl'It.        19, 
Church are directed against the vile authlors of these detestable heresies, there shall be measures of mildness and
compassion taken with tile unfortunate victims of their
delusions."
"6 Such is ever the course of Holy Church, lmy lord,"'
said the Prior of St. Dominic's.'; Wily, ttien, let tile commission be expedited with due
care, in name of our brother Albany; and such others
as shall be deemned convenient," said tile King.-" And
now once again let us break utp our council; and, Rothlsay, come thou with me, and lend me thine arm,-I have
matter for thy private car."
"' Ho, la!"-'ereexclaimed the Prince, in the tone in
which he would have addressed a managed horse.' What means this rudeness, boy?" said tile King;
"; wilt thou never learn reason and courtesy?'9
" Let me not be thought to offend, my liege," said the
Prince, "6 but we are parting without learning what is to
be done in the passing stranige adventure of the dead
hand, which the Douglas hath so gallantly taken up.  We
shall sit but uncomfortably here at Perth, if we are at
variance with the citizens."
" Leave that to me,"  said Albany.  s With some
little grant of lands and money, and plenty of fair words,
the burghers may be satisfied for this time; but it were
well that the barons and their followers, who ard in attendance on the court, were warned to respect the peace
within burgh."
" Surely, we would have it so," said the King; " let
strict orders be given accordingly."
" It is doing the churls but too much grace," said tile
Douglas; " but be it at your Highness's pleasure.  I take
leave to retire."
"6 Not before you taste a flagon of Gasgon wine, my
lord?" said the King;
" Pardon," replied the Earl, " I am not athirst, and I
drink not for fashion, but either for need or for friendship."  So saying lhe departed.
17 VOL. 1.




194           SIr. VALENTINE S DAY.
The King, as if relieved by his absence, turned to Albany, and said, " And now, my lord, we should chide this
trtnant Rothsay of ours; yet lie hath served us so well
at council, that we must receive his merits as some atonement for his follies."
" I am happy to hear it," answered Albany, with a
countenance of pity and incredulity, as if he knew nothing
of the supposed services.
" Nay, brother, you are dull," said the King, 6" for 1
will not think you envious. Did you not note that Rothsay was the filrst to suggest the mode of settling the Highlands, which your experience brought indeed into better
shape, and which was generally approved of —and even
nowwve had broken up, leaving a main matter unconsidered, but that he put us in mind of the affray with the
citizens?"'" I nothing doubt, my liege," said the Duke of Albany,
with the acquiescence which lie saw was expected, "' that
my royal nephew will soon emulate his father's wisdom."
" Or,"9 said the Duke of Rothsay, "I may find it easier to borrow firom another member of mny family, that
happy and comfortable cloak of hypocrisy which covers
all vices, and then it signifies little whether they exist or
not."
" My Lord Prior," said the Duke, addressing the
Dominican, " we will for a moment pray your reverence's absence.  The King and I have that to say to the
Prince which must have no further audience, not even
yours."
The Dominican bowed and withdrew.
When the two royal brothers and the Prince were left
together, the King seemed in the highest degree embarrassed and distressed; Albany sullen and thoughtful;
while Rothsay himself endeavoured to cover some anxiety
under his usual appearance of levity.  There was a sience of a minute.  At length Albany spoke.'" Royal brother," he said, " my princely neplhew
entertains with so much suspicion any admonition coming
frorn my mouth, that I mnust pray your Grace yourself to




Sil. VALENT'1'NE S DAY.             195
take tile trouble of telling him what it is most fitting hi
slhould know."
" It must be some unpleasing communication indeed,
which my Lord of Albany cannot wrap up in honeyed
words," said thle Prince.
"' Peace witll thine effrontery, boy," answered the
King, passionately.  " You asked but now of the quarrel
witl' the citizens -Who caused that quarrel, David?what men were thlose who scaled the window of a peacefill citizen and liegeman, alarmed the night with torch
and outcry, and subjected our subjects to danger and
afrigllt?"
" More fear than danger, I fancy,"  answered the
Prince; " but hlow can I of all men tell who made this
nocturnal disturbance?"'" There was a follower of thine own there," continued
the King; "' a man of Belial, wlhom I will have brought
to condign punishment."
" I have no follower, to my knowledge, capable of
deserving your Highlness's displeasure," answered the
Prince.
1" I will have no evasions, boy-Whllere wert thou on
St. Valentine's Eve?"'c It is to be hoped that I was serving the good Saint,
as a man of mould migllt," answered the young man,
carelessly.
1" Will my royal nephew tell us how his Master of the
HIorse was employed upon that holy Eve?" said the
Duke of Albany.
"1 Sleak, David,-I command thee to speak," said
the King.
"Ramorny was employed in my service-I think that
anwswve may satisfy my uncle."
"But it will not satisfy me,"  said the angry fatler.
"God knows, I never coveted man's blood, but that
Ramorny's head I will have, if law can give it.  I-le has
been the encourager and partaker of all thy numerous
vices and follies.  I will take care lie shall be so no
more.-Call MacLouis. with a guard!"




196           ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
" Do not injure an innocent man," interposed the
Prince, desirous at every sacrifice to preserve his favourite from the menaced danger,-" I pledge my word that
Ramorny was employed in business of mine, therefore
could not be engaged in this brawl."
" False equivocator that thou art!" said the King,
presenting to the Prince a ring, "' behold the signet ot
Ramorny, lost in the infamous affray! It fell into the
hands of a follower of the Douglas, and was given by the
Earl to my brother. Speak not for Ramorny, for he
dies; and go thou from my presence, and repent the
flagitious counsels which could make thee stand before
me with a falsehood in thy mouth.-Oh, shame, David,
shame! as a son, thou hast lied to thy father; as a knight,
to the head of thy order."
The Prince stood mute, conscience-struck, and selfconvicted.  He then gave way to the honourable feelings which at bottom  he really possessed, and threw
himself at his father's feet.
"c The false knight," he said, "' deserves degradation,
the disloyal subject death; but, oh! let the son crave
from the father pardon for the servant who did not lead
him into guilt, but who reluctantly plunged himself into
it at his command! Let me bear the weight of my own
folly, but spare those who have been my tools, rather
than my accomplices.  Remember, Ramorny was preferred to my service by my sainted mother."
" Name her not, David, I charge thee!" said the
lKing; " she is happy that she never saw the child of
her love stand before her doubly hishonoured, by guilt
and by falsehood."
"I am indeed unworthy to name her," said the Prince;
" and yet, my dear father, in her name 1 must petition
for Ramorny's life."
o "If I might offer my counsel," said the Duke of Albany, who saw that a reconciliation would soon take place
betwixt the father and son, " I would advise that Ramorny be dismissed from the Prince's household and society,
with such farther penalty as his imprudence may seem tu




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.                197
merit. The public will be contented with his disgrace,
and the matter will be easily accommodated or stifled, so
that his Highness do not attempt to screen his servant."
"Wilt thou, for my sake, David," said the King, with
a faltering voice, and the tear in his eye,'" dismiss this
dangerous man? for my sake, who could not refuse thee
the heart out of my bosom?"
" It shall be done, my father-done instantly," the
Prince replied; and seizing the pen, he wrote a hasty
dismissal of Ramorny from his service, and put it into
Albany's hands.  " I would I could fulfil all your wishes
as easily, my royal father," he added, again throwing
himself at the King's feet, who raised him up, and fondly
folded him in his arms.
Albany scowled, but was silent; and it was not till
after the space of a minute or two, that ihe said, " This
matter being so happily accommodated, let me ask if
your Majesty is pleased to attend the Even-song, service
In the chapel?"
"Surely," said the King.  " Have I not thanks to
pay to God, who has restored union to my family? You
will go with us, brother?"'6 So please your Grace to give me leave of absenceNo," said the Duke.  " I must concert with the Douglas, and others, the manner in whllicll we may bring these
Highland vultures to our lure."
Albany  retired to think over his amLtious projects,
vwhile the father and son attended divine service, to thank
God for their happy reconciliation.
CHAPTER XIV.
Will you go to the IIielands, Iizzy Lyndesay,
WXill you go to the Hielands wi' ime?
W.ill youl go to the Iielaindcs, Lizzy Lynodesay,
My bride and my darling to be? —Od Ballad.
A FORMER chapter opened in the royal confessional;
we are now to introduce our readers to a situation some17*  vol,. i.




198            ST. VAJEJNTINE'S DAY.
what similar, though the scene and persons were very
different.  Instead of a Gothic and darkened apartment
in a monastery, one of the most beautiful prospects in
Scotland lay extended beneath the hill of Kinnoul, and at
the foot of a rock which commanded tile view in every
direction, sat the Fair Maid of Perth, listening in an attitude of devout attention to the instructions of a Carthusian
monk, in his white gown and scapular, who concluded
his discourse with prayer, in which his proselyte devoutly
joined.
When they had finished their devotions, the priest sat
for some time with his eyes fixed on the glorious prospect,
of which even the early and chilly season could not conceal the beauties, and it was some time ere he addressed
his attentive companion.
"' When I behold," lie said at length, " this rich and
varied land, with its castles, churches, convents, stately
palaces; and fertile fields, these extensive woods, and that
noble river, I know not, my daughter, whether most to
admire the bounty of God or the ingratitude of man.  He
hath given us the beauty and fertility of the earth, and ve
have made thle scene of hlis bounty a charnel-house and a
battle-field.  He hath given us power over the elements,
and skill to erect houses for comfort and defence, and we
have converted tllen into dens for robbers andt ruffians."
6' Yet surely, my Fatler, there is roon-i for comfort,"
replied Catharine, " even in the very prospect we look
rupon.  Yonder four goodly convents, with tlleir churches,
and their towers, wllich tell tlle citizens withl brazen voice,
that thley should tllink on thleir reigious duties;-their
inhabitants, wvho have separated themselves firom the world,
its pursuits and its pleasures, to dedicate themselves to the
service of Heaven, —all bear witness, that if Scotland be
a bloody and a sinfill land, she is yet alive and sensible tc(
the claims whlich religion demands of the humnan race."'Verily, dlaughter," answered tlle priest, " wllat you say
seems truti; and yet, nearly viewed, too m Luc1h of tle comfort you describe  will be found delusive.  It is true, there
was a period in the Christian world, whlen good men, main



SrT. VAIE'NTINE'S DAY.              1.99
taining themselves by the work of their hands, assembled togethler, not that they miglit live easily or sleep softly, but tlhat
tlhey mighlt strengthlen each other in the Christian faith, and
qualify tlhemselves to be teachers of the word to the people.
Doulbtless there are still such to be found in the holy edifices on which we now look.  But it is to be feared that
the love of many has waxed cold.  Our churchmen have
become wealthy, as well by the gifts of pious persons, as
by the bribes which wicked men have given in their ignorance, imagining that they can purchase that pardon by
endowments to the churcll, which Heaven has only offered to sincere penitents.  And thus, as the Church waxeth
rich, her doctrines have unhappily become dim and obscure, as a light is less seen if placed in a lamp of chased
gold, than beheld throughl a screen of glass.  God knows,
if I see these things and mark them, it is from no wish of
singularity, or desire to'make myself a teachler in Israel;
but because the fire burns in my bosom, and will not permit me to be silent.  I obey the rules of Iny order, and
withdraw not myself from its austerities. Be they essential
to our salvation, or be they mere formalities, adopted to
supply the want of real penitence and sincere devotion, I
hlave promised, nay vowed, to observe them; and they
shall be respected by me the more, that otherwise I might
be charged with regarding my bodily ease, when Heaven
is my witness how lightly I value what I may be called
on to act or suffer, if the purity of the Church could be
restored, or the discipline of the priesthood replaced in
its primitive simplicity."
" But, my Father," said Catharine, " even for these
opinions men term  you a Lollard and a Wickliffite, and
say it is your desire to destroy churches and cloisters, and
restore the religion of Heathenesse."
" Even so, my daughter, am I driven to seek refiuge in
hills and rocks, and must be presently contented to take
my flight amonogst the rude Higlhlanders, who are thlvus fcar
In a more gracious state than those I leave behind me,
that theirs are crimes of ignorance, not of presumption.
[ will not omit to take such means of safetoy and escape




I200           ST. VAIENTIN[E S DAY.
fron their cruelty, as Heaven may open to me; foi, wlln e
such appear, I shall account it a sign that I have;,till a
service to accomplish.  But when it is rny Master s pleasure, He knows how willingly Clement Blair wvill lay down
a vilified life upon earth, in humble hope of a blessed exchange lereafter.-But wherefore dost thou look northward  so anxiously, my  child?-thy  young eyes are
quicker than mine-dost thou see any one coming?"
I look, Father, for the Highland youth, Conachar,
who will be thy guide to the hills, where his father can
afford thee a safe, if a rude retreat.  This he has often
proi -tsed, when we spoke of you and of your lessons-I
fear he is now in company where lie will soon forget them."' The youth hath sparkles of grace in him," said Fatlher Clement;'" although those of his race are usually
too mucl devoted to to teir own fierce and savage customs,
to endure svith patience either thie restraints of religion
or tlose of the social law.-Thou hast never told me,
daughliter, hoxw, contrary to all usages either of the burgll
or of the mountains, this youth came to reside in thy
father's house?"
c All I know touching that mattelr,'  said Catharine,
6 is, that his father is a man of consequence among those
hill men, and that lie desired as a favour of my father,
who hath h'ad dealings svithl them in the way of his merclandiseg to keeL) this youth for a certain time e; and tlhat
it is only two dayls sine  they parte(l, as Conaclhar was to
return ihome to ti o'is   n mountains.""
n Alrd why has mny daughter," demanded thle priest,
"c maintained such a correspondence xvith this Highland
youth, th}at she should knowv how to send for hin wheln
slhe desired to use hlis services in lmy behalf?  Surely,
this is mIuch influtence for a maidlen to posscss over such
a  Tild colt as thiis youtllfill mountaineer." 
Catharine blushed, and answerecld witll hesitation,  I' If
I have had any influence wsithl Conaclhar, Heaven be my
witness I have only exerted it to enforce upon his fiery
temper compliance wvith the rules of civil life.  It is true.
I have long expected that you, mny Fathel1, would be




ST. V ALI, NT INE" S DAY.           201
obliged to take to flight, and I therefore had agreed with
hlim that he should meevt me at this place, as soon as he
should receive a message fLom me with a token, which I
yesterday despatched.  The messenger was a light-footed
boy of his own clan, whom  he used sometimes to send
on errands into the Highlands."
" And am I then to understand, daughter, that this
youth, so fair to the eye, was nothing more dear to you,
than as you desired to enlighten his mind and reform his
manners?9 
" It is so, my Father, and no otherwise," answered
Catharine; " and perhaps I did not do well to hold intimacy with him, even for his instruction and improvement.
B3ut my discourse never led farther."'- Then have I been mistaken, my daughter; for I
thoughlt I hlad seen in thee of late some change of purpose, and some wishful regards looking back to this world,
of which you were at onle time resolved to take leave."
Catharine hung down her head, and blushed more
deeply than ever, as she said, "' Yourself, Father, were
used to remonstrate against my taking the veil."' Nor do I now approve of it, mlly child," said the
priest.  " Marriage is an honourable state, appointed by
Heaven as the regular means of continuing the race of
man; and I read not in the Scriptures, what huinan inventions have since affirmed, concerning the superior excellence of a state of celibacy.  But I am jealous of
thee, my child, as a faither is of tils only daughlter, lest thou
slhouldst throw thyself away upon some one unworthy of
thee.  Thy parent, I know, less nice in thy behalf than I
am, countenances the addresses of that fierce and riotous
reveller, whaomn they call Henry of the Wynd.  IHe is
-,ich, it may be; but a haunter of idle and debauched
company —a common prize-fighter, who has shed hlumat
blood like water.   Can such a one be a fit mate t}r
Catharine Glover?-And yet report says they are soon!o be united."
The Fair Maid of Perth's complexion changed fiom
red to pale, and from pale to red, as she hastily replied,




202           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.' I think not of him; though it is true some courtesies
have passed betwixt us of late, both as he is mny father's
fi'iend, and as being, according to the custom of the time,
my Valentine."
"' Your Valentine, my child?" said Father Clement.
" And can your modesty and prudence have trifled so
much with the delicacy of your sex, as to place yourself
in such a relation to such a man as this artificer?-Think
you that this Valentine, a godly saint and Christian bishop,
as he is said to have been, ever countenanced a silly and
unseemly custom, more likely to have originated in the
heathen worship of Flora or Venus, when mortals gave
the names of deities to their passions, and studied to excite
instead of restraining them?"
"Father," said Catharine, in a tone of more displeasure than she had ever before assumed to the Carthusian.
" I know not upon what ground you tax me thus severely
for complying with a general practice, authorized by universal custom, and sanctioned by my father's authority.
I cannot feel it kind that you put such misconstruction
upon me."' Forgive me, daughter," answered the priest, mildly,
" if 1 have given you offence. But this Henry Gow, or
Smith is a forward, licentious man, to whom  you cannot
allow any uncomrnmon degree of intimacy and encouragenent, wvithlout exposing yourself to Nvworse mlisconstruction,
-unless, indeed, it be your purpose to wed himn, and
that veiy shortly."
"' Say no more of it, my Father," said Catharine.
"You give me more pain than you would desire to do;
and I may be provoked to answer otherwise than as becomes me.  Perhaps I have alleady had cause enough to
make me repent mny compliance with an idle custom.  At
any rate, believe that Henry Smith is nothing to me; and
that even the idle intercourse arising fiom St. Valentine's
Day, is utterly broken off."
" I am rejoice(l to hear it, my daughter,'" replied tile
Carthusian; " and must now prove you on another sublect, which renders me mlost anxious on your behalf.  You




,ST. VlTlAENTINE S DAY.             20'3
cannot yourself be ignorant of it, although I could wish
It were not necessary to speak of a thing so dangerous,
even before these surrounding rocks, cliftI, and stones.
But It must be said. —Catlharine, you have a lover in the
highest rank of Scotland's sons of honour?";I I know it, Father," answered Catharine, composedly.  " I would it were not so."' So would I also," said the priest, " did I see in my
daughter only the child of' folly, which most young women are at her age, especially if possessed of the fatal gift
of beauty.  Buit as thy charmls, to speak the language of
an idle world, have attached to thee a lover of such 11igll
rank, so I know that thy virtue and wisdomn wili maintain
the influence over the Prince's mind which thy beauty
hath acquired."
" Father," replied Catharine, " the Prince is a licentious gallant, whose notice of r me tends only to my disgrace
and ruin.  Can you, who seemed but now afraid that I
acted imprudently in entering into an ordinary exchange
of courtesies with one of my own rank, speak with patience
of the sort of correspondence which the heir of Scotland
dares to fix upon me? Know, that it is but two nights
since lie, with a party of his debauched followers, would
have carried me by force firom my fathler's house, had I
not been rescued by that same rash-spirited Henry Smith,
— who, if hlie be too hlasty in venturing on danger on slight
occasion, is always ready to venture his life in behalf of
innocence, or in resistance of oppression.  It is well my
part to do him that justice."
" I slhould know something of that matter,," said the
monk, " since it was my voice that sent him to your assistance.  I had seen the party as I passed your door, and
was hastening to the civil power in order to raise assistance, when I perceived a man's figure coming slowly
towards nine.  Apprehensive it might be one of the amlbuscade, I stepped behind the buttresses of the chapel of
St. John, and seeing  orom a nearer view, that it was Henry
Smith, I guessed which way he was bound, and raised




204           ST. i A.IEN'IXNEI S DAY.
my voice in an exhortation, which made himt louble his
speed."
1" I am beholden to you, Father," said Catharine; " but
all this, and the Duke of Rothsay's own language to, me,
only show that the Prince is a profligate young m hian, who
will scruple no extremities wvhichl- may promise to gratify
an idle passion, at whatever expense to its object.  H-is
emissary, Ramorny, has even had the insolence to tell
ne, that my father shall suffer for it, if I dare to prefer
being the wife of an honest man, to becoming the loose
paramour of a married prince.  So I see no other remedy
than to take the veil, or run the risk of my own ruin and
my poor father's.  Were there no other reason, the terror of these threats, fr'om a man so notoriously capable of
keeping his word, ought as much to prevent my becoming
the bride of any worthy man, as it should prohibit me
from unlatching his door to admit murderers.-Oh, good
Father! what a lot is mine! and how fatal am I likely to
prove to my affectionate parent, and to any one with whom
I might ally my unhappy fortunes!"
"Be yet of good cheer, my daughter," said the monk;
" there is comrnfort for thee even in this extremity of apparent distress.  Ramorny is a villain, and abuses the ear
of his patron. The Prince is unhappily a dissipated and
idle youth; but, unless my grey hairs have been strangely
imposed on, his character is beginning to alter.  He hath
been awakened to Ramorny's baseness, and deeply regrets
having followed his evil advice.  I believe, nay, I am well
convinced, that his passion for you has assumed a nobler
and purer character, and that the lessons he has heard
from me on the corruptions of the church, and of the
times, will, if enforced from your lips, sink deeply into
his heart, and perhaps produce fruits, for the world to
wonder as well as rejoice at.  Old prophecies have said,
that Romne shall fall by tile speech of a woman."
" These are dreams, Father," said Catharine;' the
visions of one whlose thoughts are too much on better
things, to admit his thinking justly upon the ordinary a ffairs




ST. Vl.a.'N'rINE S Vi A Y.        205
af earth.  When we have looked long at the sun, every
hointg else can only be seen indistinctly."
"Thou art over hasty, my daughter,"' said Clement,
" and thou shalt be convinced of it."  The prospects
which - am to open to thee were unfit to be exposed to
one of a less firm  sense of virtue, or a more ambitious
temper.  Perhaps it is not fit that, even to you, I should
display them; but my confidence is strong in thy wisdom
and thy principles.  Know, then, that there is much
chance that the Church of Rome will dissolve the union
which she has herself formed, and release the Duke of
Rothsay from his marriage with Marjory Douglas."
Here he paused.
" And if the Church hath power and will to do this,"
replied the maiden, " what influence can the divorce oi
the Duke from his wife produce on the fortunes of Catharine Glover?"
She looked at the priest anxiously as she spoke, and hie
had some apparent difficulty in framing his reply, for he
looked on the ground while he answered her.
c" What did beauty do for Catharine Logie? Unless
our fathers have told us falsely, it raised her to share the
throne of David Bruce."
" Did she live happy, or die regretted, good Father?"
asked Catharine, in the same calm and steady tone.
" She formed her alliance, from temporal, and perhaps
criminal ambition," replied Father Clement; " and she
found her reward in vanity and vexation of spirit.  But
had she wedded with the purpose that the believing wife
should convert the unbelieving, or confirmn the doubting,
husband, what then had been her reward? Love and honour upon earth, and an inheritance in Heaven with Queen
Mlargaret, and those heroines who have been the nursing
mothers of the Church."
Hitherto Catharine had sat upon a stone beside the
priest's feet, and looked up to him as she spoke or listened; but now, as if animated by calm, yet settled feelings
of disapprobation, she rose up, and extending her hand
18  vOL. I.




0)6          ST. VL y  NT 11    INEIS I A I 1 Y.
towards the monk as she spoke, addressed him with a
countenance and voice which might have become a
cherub, pitying, and even as much as possible sparing, the
feelings of the mortal whose errors he is commissioned to
rebuke.
" And is it even so?" she said, "' and can so much of'
the wishes, hopes, and prejudices of this vile world, affect him vwho may be called to-morrow to lay down his
life for opposing the corruptions of a wicked age and
backsliding priesthood? Can it be the severely virtuous
Father Clement, who advises his child to aim at, or even
to think of, the possession of a throne and a bed, which
cannot become vacant but by an act of crying injustice
to the present possessor? Can it be the wise reformer of
the church who wishes to rest a scheme, in itself so unjust, upon a foundation so precarious? Since when is it,
good Father, that the principal libertine has altered his
morals so much, to be likely to court in honourable fashion
the dauglhter of a Perth artizan? Two days must have
wrought this change; for only that space has passed since
lie was breaking into my father's house at midnight, with
worse mischief in his mind than that of a common robber.  And think you, that if Rothsay's heart could dictate so mean a match, he could achieve such a purpose
without endangering both his succession and his life, assailed by the Douglas and March at the same time, for
what they must receive as an act of injury and insult to
both their houses? Oh! Father Clel-ent, where was
your principle, where your prudence, when they suffered
you to be bewildered by so strange a dream, and placed
the meanest of your disciples in the right thus to reproacl
you?"
The old man's eyes filled with tears, as Catharine,
risibly and painfully affected by what she hadsaid, became
at length silent.
" By the mouths of babes and sucklings," he said,
"' hath He rebuked those who would seem wise in their
veneration.  I thank heaven, that hathl taught me better
thoughts than my own vanity suggested, through the me



STr. VALEN'TIN I'. S lDAiy.         207
dium of so kind a monitress. — es, Catharine, I must not
hereafter wonder or exclaim, when I see those whom I
have hitherto judged too harshly, struggling for temporal
power, and holding all the while the latiguage of religious
zeal.  I thank thee, daughter, for thy salutary admonition,
and I thank Heaven that sent it by thy lips, rather than
those of a sterner reprover."
Catharine had raised her head to reply, and bid the
old man, whose humiliation gave her pain, be comforted,
when her eyes were arrested by an object close at hand.
Among the crags and cliffs which surrounded this place
of seclusion, there were two which stood in such close
contiguity, that they seemed to have been portions of the
same rock, which, rended by lightning or by an earthquake, now  exhibited a chasm  of about four feet in
breadth, betwixt the masses of stone.  Into this chasm
an oak tree had thrust itself, in one of the fantastic frolics
which vegetation often exhibits in such situations.  The
tree, stunted and ill-fed, had sent its roots along the face
of the rock in all directions to seek for supplies, and they
lay like military lines of communication, contorted, twisted, and knotted like the immnense snakes of the Indian
archipelago.   As Catharine's look fell uipon the curious
complication of knotty branches and twisted roots, she
was suddenly sensible that two large eyes were visible
among them, fixed and glaring at her, like those of a wild
animal in ambush.  S-he started, and without speaking,
pointed out the object to her companion, and looking her
self with more strict attention, could at length trace out
the bushy red hair and shaggy beard, which had hitherto
been concealed by the drooping branches and twisted
roots of the tree.
When he saw himself discovered, the Highlander, foi
such he proved, stepped forth from his lurking-place, and
stalking forward, displayed a colossal person, clothed  in
purple, red, and green-checked plaid, under which he
wore a jacket of bull's hide.  His bow and arrows were
at his back, his head was bare, and a large quantity ot
tangled locks, like the glibbs of the hrisll, served to cover
ed  lcs        h   lbso  h   rssre




208           ST. VALiNTINE S DAY.
the head, and supplied all the purposes of a bonnet. His
belt bore a sword and dagger, and he had in his hand a
Danish pole-axe, more recently called a Lochaber axe.'Through the same rude portal advanced, one by one,
four men more, of similar size, and dressed and armed
in the'same manner.
Catharine was too much accustomed to the appearance
of the inhabitants of the mountains so near to Perth, to
permit herself to be alarmed, as another Lowland maiden might have been on the same occasion.  She saw
with tolerable composure these gigantic forms arrange
themselves in a semicircle around and in front of the
Monk and herself, all bending upon them in silence their
large fixed eyes, expressing, as tfar as she could judge, a
wild admiration of her beauty.  She inclined her head
to them, and uttered imperfectly the usual words of a
Highland salutation.  The elder and leader of the party
returned the greeting, and then again remained silent and
motionless.  The M1onk told his beads; and even Catharine began to have strange fears for her personal safety,
and anxiety to know whether they were to consider themselves at personal frieedom.  She resolved to make the
experiment, and moved forward as if to descend the hill;
but when she attempted to pass the line of Highlanders,
they extended their pole-axes betwixt each other, so as
effectually to occupy each opening through which she
could have passed.
Somewhat disconcerted, yet not dismayed, for she
could not conceive that any evil was intended, she sat
down upon one of the scattered fragments of rock, and
bade the Monk, standing by her side, be of good courage
6 "If I fear," said Father Clement, is it is not for my
self; for whether I be brained with the axes of these
wild men, like an ox when, worn out by lal:bur, lie is
condemned to the slaughter, or whether I am bound with
their bow-strings, and delivered over to those who will
take my life with more cruel ceremony, il. can but little
concern me, if they suffer thee, dearest daughter. to
escape uniniured."




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               209
" We have neither of us," replied the Maiden of Perth,
any cause for apprehending evil; and here coimes Conachar, to assure us of it."
Yet as she spoke, she almost doubted her own eyes;
so altered were thile manner and attire of the handsome,
stately, andt almost splendidly dressed youth, who, springing like a roebuck, from  a cliff of considerable height,
lighted just in iiont of her.  His dress was of the same
tartan worn by those who had first made their appearance,
but closed at the throat and elbows with a necklace and
armlets of gold.  The hauberk which he wore over his
person, was of steel, but so clearly burnished, that it
shone like silver.  His arms were profusely ornamented,
and his bonnet, besides the eagle's feather,  marking
tile quality of chief, was adorned with a chain of gold,
wrapt several times around it, and secured by a large
clasp, glistening with pearls.  His brooch, by which the
tartan mantle, or plaid, as it is now called, was secured
on the shoulder, was also of gold, large and curiously
carved.  He bore no weapon in his hand, excepting a
small sapling stick with a hooked head. His whole appearance and gait, wl-ich used formerly to denote a sullen
feeling of conscious degradation, was now bold, forward,
and haughty; and he stood before Catharine with smiling
confidence, as if fully conscious of his improved appearance, and waiting till she should recognize him.
" Conachar,"' said Catharine, desirous to break this
state of suspense, " are these your father's men?"
" No, fair Catharine,"  answered the young man.
" Conachar is no more, unless in regard to the wrongs he
has sustained, and the vengeance which they demand. I
am Ian Eachin Maclan, son to the Chief of the Clan
Quhele.  I have moulted my feathers, as you see, when
I changed my name.  And for these men, they are nol
my father's followers, but mine.  You see only one half
of them  collected; they form a band consisting of my
foster father and eight sons, who are my body-guard, and
hue children of my belt, who breathe but to do my will
1S*  VOLr. I.




210            ST. VALENTINIE' S 3A.Y.
But Conachar,"  lie added, in a softer tone of voice,'lives again so soon as Catharine desires to see him 
and while lie is the young Chief of the Clan Quhlele to
all others, lie is to lier as humble and obedient as vwhen he
was Simonl Glover's apprentice.  See, here is the stick I
had frorn you when we nutted together in the sunny braes
of Lednochl, when autumnt was young in the year that is
gone.  I wounld not exchange it, Catliarine, for the truncheon of my tribe."
Whlile Eachin tllus spoke, Catllarine began to doubt in
her own Inind wllether she had acted prudently in requesting the assistance of a bold youing man, elated,
doubtless, by his sudden elevation fiom a state of servitude, to one which sbe was aware gave hlim  extensive
authority over a very lawless body-of adherents.
"You do not fear me, fair Catllarine?" said the young
Chief, taking her hand.  "' I suffered my people to appear before ine for a few minutes, that I might see how
you could endure their presence; and methinks you regarded them as if you were born to be a chieftain's wife."'I Ilhave no reason to fear wrong from flighlIanders,"
said Catharine, firmly; 6" especially as I thought Conachar
was withI them.  Conachar has drunk of our cup, and
eaten of our bread; and my father has often had traffic
with Hilghlanders, and never was tlhere wrong or qualrel
betwixt him and them."'" No?" replied Hector, for such is the Saxon equivalent for Eachin, " wlhat! never when lihe took the part
of the Gow Clirom, (the bandy-legged Srnitll,) against
Eachin Maclan?-Say nothing to excuse it, and believe
it will be your ownr fault if I ever again  allude to it.
But you had some command to lay upon me —speak, and
you shall be obeyed."
Catharine hastened to reply; for there was somnething
in the young Clhief's manner and language, which made
her desire to shorten the interview.
6' Eachin," she said, " since Conachar is no longer your
name, you ought to be sensible that in claiming, as I hon-.stlv might, a service from my equal, I little thought that




ST. VAITENTINE S DAY.             21 1
I was addressing a person of such superior power and
consequence.  You, as well as I, have been obliged to
the religious instruction of this good man.  He is now in
great danger; wicked men have accused him with false
charges, and he is desirous to remain in safety and concealment till the storm shall pass away.'; Ha! the good Clerk Clement? Ay, the worthy clerk
did much for me, and more than my rugged temper was
capable to profit by. I will be glad to see any one in
the town of Perth persecute one who hath taken hold of
MacIan's mantle!"
" It may not be safe to trust too much to that," said
Catharine.  " I nothing doubt the power of your tribe,
but when the Black Douglas takes up a feud, lie is not to
be scared by the shaking of a Highland plaid."
The Highlander disguised his displeasure at this speech
with a forced laugh.
6' The sparrow," he said, " that is next the eye, seems
larger than the eagle that is perched on Bengoile.  You
fear the Douglasses most, because they sit next to you.
But be it as you will-You xvill not believe how wide our
hi:ls, and vales, and forests, extend beyond the dusky barrier of yonder mountains, and you think all the world lies
on thie banks of the Tay.  But this good Clerk shall see
hills that could hide him were all the Douglasses on his
quest-ay, and he shall see men enough also, to nmake
theln glad to get once more southward of tile Grampians.
-And wherefore should you not go with the good man?
I will send a party to bring him in safety from Perth, and
we will set up the old trade beyond Loch Tay-only no
more cutting out. of gloves for me. I will find your father in hides, but I wvill not cut them, save when they are
on the creatures' backs."
" My father will come one day and see your housekeeping, Conachar-I mean, Hector.-But times must
be quieter, for there is feud between the town's-people
and the followers of the noblemen, and there is speech of
war about to break out in the Highlands."




212            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
6' Yes, by Our Lady, Catharine! and wer' it not for
that same HIighland war, you should not thus put off yout
Higlland visit, my pretty mistress.  But the race of the
hills are no longer to be divided into two nations.  They
will fight like men for the supremacy, and he who gets it
will deal with the King of Scotland as an equal, not as a
superior.  Pray that tile victory may fall to Maclan, my
pious St. Catliarine, for thou shalt pray for one who loves
thee dearly."'
"' I will pray for the right," said Catharine;  " or
rather, I will pray that there be peace on all sides.Warewell, kind and excellent Father Clement; believe I
shall never forget thy lessons-remember me in thy prayers.-But how wilt thou be able to sustain a journey so
toilsome?"
6 They shall carry him if need be," said Hector, " if
we go far without finding a horse for him.  But you,
Catharine-it is far from hence to Perth.  Let me attend
you thither as I wvas wont."
" If you were as you were wont, I would not refuse
your escort.  But gold brooches and bracelets are perilous company, wvhen the Liddesdale and Annandale lancers are riding as throng upon the highway as the leaves
at Hallowmass; and there is no safe meeting betwixt
Highland tartans and steel jackets."
She hazarded this remark, as she somewhat suspected,
that, in casting his slough, young Eachin had not entirely
surmounted the habits which he had acquired in his humbler state, and that, though he might use bold words, he
would not be rash enough to brave the odds of numbers,
to which a descent into the vicinity of the city would be
likely to expose him.  It appeared that she judged correctly; for, after a farewell, in which she compounded
for the immunity of her lips, by permitting him to kiss
her hand, she returned towards Perth, and co ild obtaimm
at times, when she looked back, an occasional glance of
the Highlanders, as, winding through the most concealed
and impracticable paths, they bent their way towards thle
North.




ST. VALENT'NE'S DALY.               213
She felt in part relieved from her immediate anxiety
as the distance increased betwixt her and these men
whose actions were only directed by the will of their chief,
and whose chief was a giddy and impetuous boy. She
apprehended no insult on her return to Perth, from the
soldiery of any party whom she might meet; for the rules
of chivalry were in those days a surer protection to a
maiden of decent appearance, than an escort of armed
men, whose cognizance might not be acknowledged as
friendly by any other party whom they might chance to
encounter.   But more remote dangers pressed on her
apprehension.  The pursuit of the licentious Prince was
rendered formidable by threats which his unprincipled
counsellor, Ramorny, had not shunned to utter against her
fiather, if she persevered in her coyness.  These menaces, in such an age, and from such a character, were deep
grounds for alarm; nor could she consider the pretensions
to her favour which Conachar had scarce repressed during h.is state of servitude, and seemed nowv to avoow boldly, as less fiaught with evil, since there had been repeated incursions of the High-landers into the very town of
Perth, and citizens had, on lmore occasions than one, been
made prisoners, and carried off from their own houses, or
had fallen by the claymIore in the very streets of their
city.  She feared, too, her father's importunity on behalf
of the Smith, of whose conduct on St. Valentine's day
unworthy reports had reached her; and whose suit, hlad
he stood clear in her good opinion, she dared not listen
to, while Ramorny's threats of revenge upon her father
rung on her ear.  She tllought on these various dangers
with the deepest tappreiension, and an earnest desire to
escape from  them  and herself, by taking refuge in the
cloister; but saw no possibility of obtaining her father's
consent to the only course fi:om which she expected peace
and protection.
In the course of these reflections, we cannot discover
that she very distinctly regretted that her perils attended
her because she was the Fair Jlaid of Perth; this was
one point which marlked that she was not yet altogether




214           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
an angel; and perhaps it was another, that, in despite ol
Henry Smith's real or supposed delinquencies, a sigh
escap;ed fiom  her bosom, when she thought upon St
Valentine's dawn.
CHAPTER XV.
O for a draught of power to steep
The soul of agony in sleep!
BERTHA.
WE have shown the secrets of the confessional; those
of the sick chamber are not hidden from us. In a darkened apartment, where salves and medicines showed that
the leech had been busy in his craft, a tall thin form lay
on a bed, arrayed in a night-gown belted around him,
with pain on his brow, and a thousand stormy passions
agitating his bosom.  Every thing in the apartment indicated a man of opulence and of expense.  Henbane
Dwining, the apothecary, who seemed to have the care
of the patient, stole with a crafty and cat-like step from
one corner of the room to another, busying himself with
mixing medicines and preparing dressings.  The sick
man groaned once or twice, on which the leech, advancing to his bed-side, asked whether these sounds were a
token of the pain of his body, or of the distress of his
mind.
" Of both, thou poisoning varlet," said Sir John Ramorny; " and of being encumbered with thy accursed
company."
" If that is all, I can relieve your knighthood of one
of these ills, by presently removing myself elsewhere.
Thanks to the feuds of this boisterous time, had I twenty
hands, instead of these two poor servants of my art, (displaying his skinny palms,) there is enough of employment
for them; well requited employment, too, wbjere thanks
and crowns contend which shall best pay my services,
while you, Sir John, wreak upon your chirurgeon th




ST. VALENTINE S DA Y.             215
anger you ought only to bear against the author of yout
wound."
"G Villain, it is beneath me to reply to thee," said the
patient;' but every word of thy malignant tongue is
a dirk, inflicting wounds which set all the medicinesof
Arabia at defiance."
" Sir John, I understand you not; but if you give way
to these tempestuous fits of rage, it is impossible but fever
and inflammation must be the result."
"6 Why then dost thou speak in a sense to chafe my
blood?  Why dost thou name the supposition of thy
worthless self having more hands than nature gave thee,
while I, a knight and gentleman, am  mutilated like a
cripple?"
"Sir John,"9 replied the chirurgeon,' I am no divine,
nor a mainly obstinate believer in some things which divines tell us.  Yet I may remind you that you have been
kindly dealt with; for if the blow which has done you
this injury had lighted on your neck, as it was aimed, it
would have swept your head fiom your shoulders, instead
of amputating a less considerable member."
" I wish it had, Dwining-I wish it had lighted as it
was addressed.  I should not then have seen a policy,
which had spun a web so fine as mine, burst through by
the brute force of a drunken churl.  I should not have
been reserved to see horses which I must not mountlists which I must no longer enter-splendours which I
cannot hope to share-or battles which I must not take
part in.  I should not, with a man's passions for power
and for strife, be set to keep place among the women,
despised by them too, as a miserable impotent cripple,
unable to aim at obtaining the favour of the sex."
" Supposing all this to be so, I will yet pray of your
knighthood to remark," replied Dwiniag, still busying
himself with arranging the dressings of the wounds
" that your eyes, which you must have lost with your
head, may, being spared to you, present as rich a prospect of pleasure as either ambition, or victory in the lists




216            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
or in the field, or the love of woman itself, could have
proposed to you."
" My sense is too dull to catch thy meaning, leech,"
replied Ramorny.  " What is this precious spectacle reserved to me in such a shipwreck?"
T''he dearest that mankind knows,' replied Dwining;
and then, in the accent of a lover who utters the name
of his beloved mistress, and expresses his passion for her
in the very tone of his voice, lie added the word " REVENGE!'
The patient had raised himself on his couch to listern
with some anxiety for the solution of the physician's
enigma.  Hle laid himself down again as he heard it explained, and after a short pause, asked, " In what Christian college learned you this morality, good Master
Dwining?"
"In no Christian college," answered his physician;
" for though it is privately received in most, it is openly
and manfully adopted in none.  But I have studied among
the sages of Granada, where the fiery-souled Moor lifts
highl his deadly dagger as it dlrops with his enemy's blood,
and avows the doctrine wllich the pallid Christian practises, thougll coward-like lie dare not name it."
L Thou art then a more high-souled  villain than I
deemed thee," said Raimorny.
" Let that pass," answered Dwining.  " The waters
that are the stillest, are also the deepest; and the foe is
most to be dreaded wtho never threatens till he strikes.
You knights and men-at-arms, go straight to your purpose
with sword in hand.  We, who are clerks, win our access with a noiseless step and an indirect approach, bu
attain our object not less surely."
" And I," said the knight, " who have trod to my revenge with a mailed foot, which made all echo around it,
must now use such a slipper as thine? Ia!"'; He who lacks strength," said the wily mediciner,
6; must attain his purpose by skill."
" And tell me sincerely, mnediciner, wherefore thou
wouldst read me these devil's lessons?  Why wouldst




STr. VALEXNTIN, S DAY.             217
thou thrust me faster or further on to my vengeance, than
I may seem to thee ready to go of my own accord? 1
anl old in the ways of the world, man; and I know that
such as thou do not drop words in vain, or thrust themselves upon the dangerous confidence of men like me,
save with the prospect of advancing some purpose of
their own.  Whiat interest hast thou in the road, whether
peaceful or bloody, which I may pursue on these occurrents?"
In plain dealing, Sir Knighlt, though it is what I seldom use," answered the leech, " my road to revenge is
the same with yours."
" With mine, man?" said Ramorny, with a tone of
scornful surprise.  " I thought it had been high beyond
thy reach.  Tlou aim  at the same revenge with Ramorny!"
"Ay, truly,"' replied Dwining; "for the smithy churl
under whose blow youl llave suffered, has often done me
despite and( injulry.  He hlas thwarted me in council and
despised me in action.  His brutal and unhesitating bluntness is a living reproach to the subtlety of my natural
disposition.  I fear him, and I hate him."
" And you hope to find an active coadjutor in me?"
said Ramorny, in the same supercilious tone as before.': But know, the artizan fellow is too low in degree, to be
to me either the object of hatred or of fear.  Yet he
shall not escape.  We hate not the reptile that has stung
uLs, thoughl  we might shake it off the wvound, and tread
upon it. I know the ruffian of old as a stout man-atarms, and a pretender, as I have heard, to the favour of
the scornful puppet, whose beauties, forsooth, spurred us
to our xvise and hopeful attempt.-Fiends, that direct tlis
nether world! by what malice have ye decided that thle
hand which has couched a lance against the bosom of a
prince, should be struck off like a sapling, by the blow of
a churl, and during the turmoil of a midnight riot!- Well,
rmediciner, thus far our courses hold together, and I bid
tlhee well believe that I will crush for thee this reptile
19 VOL. [.




218           ST. vA ENT.'INE S DAY.
mechanic.  But do not thou think to escape me, when
that part of my revenge is done, which will be most easily
and speedily accomplished."
" Not, it may be, altogether so easily accomplished,''
said the apothecary; " for if your knighthood will credit
me, there will be found small ease or security in dealing
with him.  He is the strongest, boldest, and most skilful
swordsman in Perth, and all the country around it."
" Fear nothing; lie shall be met with had he the
strength of Samson.  But then, mark me! Hope not
thou to escape my vengeance, unless thou become my
passive agent in the scene which is to follow.  AMark me,
I say once more.  I have studied at no MAoorish. college,
and lack some of thy unbounded appetite for revenge,
but yet I will have my share of vengeance. —Listen to
me, mediciner, while I shall thus far unfold myself; but
beware of treachery, for powerful as thy fiend is, thou hast
taken lessons from a meaner devil than mine. Hearkenlthe master whom I have served through vice and virtue,
with too much zeal for my own character perhaps, but
with unshaken fidelity to himn-the very man, to soothe
whose frantic folly I have incurred this irreparable loss,
is, at the prayer of his doting father, about to sacrifice
me, by turning me out of his favour, and leaving me at
the mnercy of the hypocritical relative, with whom he
seeks a precarious reconciliation at my expense.  If he
perseveres in this most ungrateful purpose, thy fiercest
M3oors, were their complexion swarthy as the smoke of
hell, shall blush to see their revenge outdone! But I will
give him one more chance for honour and safety, before
my wrath shall descend on himn in unrelenting and unmitigated fury.-There then, thus far thou hast my confidence-Close hands on our bargain —close hands, did I
say?-where is thle hand, that should be the pledge and
representative of Ramorny's plighted word! is it nailed
on the puiblic pillory, or flung as ofal to the houiseless
dogs, who are even now snarling over it? Lay thy finger
on the mutilated stump then, and swear to be a faithful
actor in my revenge, as I shall be in yours.-How unoW"




ST. VALENTINE S DXY.               219
Sir Leech, look you pale-you, who say to Death, stand
back or advance, can you tremble to think of him or to
bear him named? I have not mentioned your fee, for one
who loves revenge for itself, requires no deeper bribeyet, if broad lands and large sums of gold can increase
thy zeal in a brave cause, believe me, these shall not be
lacking."
" They tell for something in my humble wishes," said
Dwining;' the poor man in this bustling world is thrust
down like a dwarf in a crowd, and so trodden under fbot
-thle rich and powerful rise like giants above the press,
and are at ease, while all is turmoil around them."
" Then shalt thou arise above tile press, mediciner, as
high as gold can raise thee.   This pulse is weiglity, yet
it is but an earnest of thy guerdon."
" And this Smnith? my noble benefactor —" said the
leech, as he pouched the gratuity-"1 This I —enry of tile
Wynd, or whatever is his name —would not the news that
he hath paid the penalty of his action, assuage tpain
of thy knighthood's wound better than the balm of Mlecca
with which I have salved it?"' He is beneath the thou-ghlts of Rarmorny  and I have
no more resentment against hi'm than I have ill-will at the
senseless weapon which lie swayed.  3But it is just thy
hate should be vented upon him.  Where is he chiefly to
be met with?'
" That also I have considered,"' said Dwinina.'" To
make the attempt by day in his own house, were too open
and dangerous, for lie hath five servants who work withl
himi at the stitlly, four of thenm strong kn'aves, and all loying to their master.  By night were scarce less desperate,
for he hath his doors strongly  secured with bolt of oalk
and bar of iron, and ere tile fastenings of his house couild
be forced, the neighbourhood would rise to his rescue,
especially as they are still alarmed by the practice on St.
Valentine's Even."
"0   ay, true, medficiner,"9 said Ramornay, " for deceit:s thy nature, even with me-thou knewest m1y hind and
signet, as thou saidl'st, when that hand was found cast out




220            ST. VALEN'RINE' S D rY.
on tihe street, likle the disgusting refuse of a shambles, —
why, having such knowledge, went'st thou with these
jolter-headed citizens, to consult that Patrick Charteris,
whose spurs slhould be hacked off firom his heels for the
coimnmunion which he lholds with paltry burghers, and
whom thou brought'st here with the fools to do dishonour
to the lifeless hand, which, had it held its wonted place,
he was not worthy to have touched in peace, or faced in
war?"9
" MTy noble patron, as soon as I had reason to know
yToll had been the sufferer, I urged them with all my powers of persuasion to desist fromt prosecuting the feud, but
the swaggering Smith, and one or two other hot heads,
cried out for vengeance.   Your knigllthood must know
tllis fellow calls himnself bachelor to the Fair Maiden of
Perth, and stands upon his honour to follow up her father's quarrel|; but I lhave forestalled his market in that
quarter, and that is something in earnest of revenge."
" -low mean you by that, Sir Leech?;' said the pa
tient.
6 Your 1knighthood shall conceive," said the mediciner,' that tlis Smith doth not live within compass, but is an
outlier and a galliarcd.    I met him myself onil St. Valen —
tine's day, shortly after the aff-ray between the townsfolk
and the followers of Douglas.  Yes, I met him sneaking
through the lanes and by-passages with a common minstrel wepch, with her rnessan and her viol on his one arm,
and her buxom self' hanging upon the other.  What thinks
your honour? Is not this a trim squire, to cross a prince's
love with thle fairest girl in Perth, strike off the hand of a
knight and baron, and become genttleman-usher to a strolling glee-womllan, all in the course of the same four-andtwenty hours?9
6' lMarry, I think the better of him that he is so much
of a gentleman's humour, clown though he be," said Ramorny. "1 would he had been a precisian instead of a gal.
liard,and Ishould have had better heart to aid thy' revenge
— and such revenge! revenge on a Smith in the quarrel
of a pitiful manufacturer of rotten cheverons! Pal! —




ST. r VAl,E NTI N'E,5   DAXY.      221
And yet it shall be taken in fill. lThou hast commenced
it, I warrant me, by thine own manweuvres."
" In a small degree only," said the apothecary;-' I
took care that two or tlbree of the most notorious gossips'o Curfew Street, who liked not to heanr Catharine called
tile Fair Maid of Pertlh, should be possessed of this story
of' her faithful Valentine.  They opened on the scent so
keenly, that, rather than doubt had fallen on the tale, they
would have vouched for it as if their own eyes had seen
it.  The'lover came to her father's within an hour after,
and your worship maty think what a reception he had from
tile angry Glover, for the damsel herself would not be
looked upon.  And thus your honour sees I had a foretaste of revenge.  But I trust to receive the full draught
from  the hands of your lordship, with whom I am in a
brotherly league, whichl"9
" Brotherly!9' said the Knight, contemptuously. "6 But
be it so, the priests say we are all of' one common earth.
I cannot tell —there seems to me somne difference; but
tile better mould shall keep faith with the baser, and thou
shalt have thy revenge.  Call thou my page hither."
A young man made his appearance from -the anteroom
upon the physician's summons.
" Eviot," said the knight, "' does Bonthron wait? and
is he sober?"
" He is as sober as sleep can make him, after a deep
drink," answered the page.
" Then fetch him hither, and do thou shut the door."
A heavy step presently approached the apartment, and
a man entered, whose deficiency of height seemed made
up in breadth of shoulders and strength of arm.
" There is a man thou must deal upon, Bonthron."
said the knighlt.
The man smoothed his rugged features, and grinned a
smile of satisfaction.
" That mediciner will show  thee the party.  Take
such advantage of time, place, and circumstance, as will
198* Vonl. I




22212          5T:.  V,,ryST    AIErN' [N Sr DAY. 
ensure the result; and mind you come not by the worst,
fobr tile man is the fighllting Smithl of the Wynd."'' it will be a toughl job," growled the assassin; "for
if I  miss my blow, I may esteerm  myself but a dead man.
All Perth lrings with the Smith's skill and strength."
"' Take tw-o assistants vith thee," said the oknight.
" Not i," said Bonthron.  " If you double anything,
let it be the reward."
" Account it doubled," said his master; 6 but see thy
work )be thloroughllly executed."
"' Trust me fbr that, Sir Knight-seldom have I failed."' Use tlis sage man's directions," said the wounded
knight, pointingrtothe physician.  A' And lark thee-await
his coming forth-and drintk not till the business be done."
"I  il not," answered the dark satellite;'" my own
life depends on my blow being steady and sure.  I know
whoml I have to deal with."'6 Vanish, thlen, till he summons you, and lave axe and
dagger in readiness."
Bonthron nodded and withdrew.
6' Will your knighlthood venture to intrust such an act
to a single hand?" said the mediciner, when the assassin
had left the room.  "' May I pray you to remember that
yonder party did, two nights since, baffle six armed men?''" Question me not, Sir 1M1ediciner; a mlan like Bon
thron, who knows time and place, is worth a score of
confused revellers.-Call Eviot —thou  shalt first exert
thy powers of healing, and do not doubt that thou shalt,
in the ftarther work, be aided by one who will match thee
in the art of sudden and unexpected destruction."
Thle page Eviot again'appeared at the mediciner's
summons, and at his master's sign assisted the chiroirgeon
in renmroving  the dressings fiom  Sir John iamorny's
wounded armn.  Dwining viewed the naked stump with a
species of professional satisfaction, enhanced, no doubt,
by the malignant pleasir'e which hiis evil (lisposition tookl
n thle pain and distress of his fellow-crea.tures.   The
kniglht just turned his eye on the ghastly spectacle, and




ST. VALENT:INI'I,  DAY.       - -,
uttered, under tile pressure of boclily patin or mental agony, a groan which he would fain hlave repressed.
You groan, sir," said thle leech, in his soft insinuating
tone of voice, but with a sneer of enjoynent, mixed with
scorn, curling upon his lip, which his habitual dissirmulation could not altogether disguise —" You giroan-but be
comforted.  This Htenry Smith knows his business —his
sword is as true to its aim as his hammer to the anvil.
Had a common swordsman struck this fatal blow, he had
harmed the bone and damaged the muscles, so that even
my art might not have been able to repair them.  But
Henry Smith's cut is clean, and as sure as that withl wlhicll
my own scalpel could have made thie amputation.  In a
few days you will be able, witli care and attention to tle
ordinances of medicine, to stir abroad."'" But my hand —the loss of my hand        "
1" It may be kept secret for a time," said the inediciner; "i have possessed two or three tattling fools, in deep
confidence, that the hand which wvas found was that of
your  knighthood's  groom, Black  Qllentin, and your
klnighthood knows thatihe hasparted for Fife, in such sort
as to make it generally believed."
I know well enough," said Ramorny,'" that the rumour mav stifle the truth for a short time.  But what
avails this brief delay?"' It may be concealed till your knighthood retires for
a time fi-om the court, and then, when new accidents have
darkened the recollection of tlhe pIesent stir, it may be
imputed to a wound received from  the shiverigt,, of a
spear, or fi'om a cross-bow h-olt.  Your slave will find a
suitatlLe device, and stand for the ti tuth of it."'  he thoulgt rmaddens me,"  said Ramorny, with
another groan of mental and bodily agony.  "6 Yet I see
no better remedy."
"' There is none ot her," said the leech, to whose evil
nature his patron's distress was delicious nourishment.
f' In the meanwhile it is believed you are confined by the
consequences of some bruises, aiding the sense of dis
pleasure at the Prince's having consented to dismiss you




224           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
from  his household, at the remonstrance of Albany
vlhich is publicly known."
"Villain, thou rackest me!" exclaimed the patient.
"Upon tlle whole, therefore," said Dwinin,, c" you.
knighthood has escaped well, and saving the lack of your
hand, a mischance beyond remedy, you ought rather to
rejoice  than  complain; for no barber-chirurgeon in
France or England could have more ably performed the
operation than this churl with one downright blow."
I'  understand my obligation fully," said Ramorny,
struggling with his anger, and affecting composure; "and
if Bonthron pays him not with a blow equally downright,
and rendering the aid of the leech unnecessary, say that
Jolln of Ranorny cannot requite an obligation."
1" Thlat isspoke likeyourself; noble knight," answered
the medicinel.  " And let me fiurther say, that the operator's skill must have been vain, and the lhaPemorrhage
must have drained youtr life-veins, but for the bandages,
the cautery, and the styptics, appliedl by the good n monks,
and the poor services of your humble vassal, Hlenbane
Dwining."
" Peace," exclaimed the patient, " withl thy ill-omened
voice, and worse-omened name!-Alethinlks, as thou
mentionest the tortures I have undergone, my tingling
nerves stretch and contract themselves as if' they still actuated the fingers that once could clutchll a dlawger."' Thlat,'   explained the leech, " may it please your
knighthood, is a phenomenon well known to our profession.  Tliere have been those among the ancient sages
whIo have thought that there still remained a sympathy
between the severed nerves, and those belonging to the
amputated limb; and tllat the several fingers are seen to
quiver and strain, as corresponding withl the impulse
which proceeds from their sympathy with the energie; of
the living system.  Could we recover the landl fiom thle
Cross, or fiom the custody of the Black Douglas, I would
be pleased to observe this wonderful operation of occult
sympathies.  Btut I fear me, one milght as safely go to
wrest the joint from the talons of an htungy eagle."




SIT. VALENTIN i'S DA Y.                225
6 And thou may'st as safely break thy malignant jests
Dn a wounded lion, as on John of Ramorny!" said the
knight, raising  himself in  uncontrollable  indignation.' Caitiff, proceed to thy duty ~ and remember, that if my
1hand can no longer clasp a dag ger, I can command an
hulndred."'
"r The sight of one drawn and brandished in anger
were sufficient," said Dwining, " to consume the vital
powers of your chlirurgeon.  But who then," he added,
in a tone partly insinuating, partly jeering, " who then
would relieve the fiery and scorching pain which my patron now suffers, and which renders iimn exasperated even
with lis p)oor servant for quoting the rules of lhealing, so
contemptible, (tIoubtless, compared with the power of inflictillg wounds "
Th'ien, as daring   no longer to trifle with the mood of
his dangerous patient, tile leechl addressed himself serioulsly to salvtilng thie wound, and applied a fragrant balm,
the odour of whiich was diftIsed thllrougi the apartment,
wIhile it communicated a refreshling coolness, instead of
the burning lheat; a change  so gratifying to the fevered
patient, tlhat, as lie had before groaned with -agony, lie could
not now help sighling for pleasure, as lie sank back on his
couch to enjoy the ease which thle dressing bestowed.
"Your kniglhtly  lordship  now  knows who is your
fiiend," said Dwining; "i had you yielded to a rash impulse, and said, I Slay me this wortliless quack salver'
where, within the foiur seas of Britain, would you have
found the man to have ministered to you as much comfort?"'G Forget my threats, good leech,99  said Ramorny,
"L and beware how you tempt me.  Such as 1 brook not
iests upon. our agony.  See tllou keep thy scoffs, to pass
tpon misers* in the hospital.'"
Dwining ventured to say no more, but poured solnte
drops from a phlial which lie toolk from his pocket, into a
sm3all cup of wine allayed withf water.' Tlhat is, mliseral.le persons, as used in Sl1penser, and( other writers of Ili.,
r'ell-n; ti:oug1h tihe sense is now re.stricted to th(se w1oe are covetous.




22 6           ST. VALE  1i', TI'NI N S I)AY.
" Tills draught," said thle man of art, " is medicated
o produtce a sleep which mnust not be interrupted."' For how long, will it last?" asked the knight.
T"'hle 3period of its operation is uncertain —perhaps
till morning."
6" Perhaps for ever," said the patient.  "Sir Mediciner, taste me that liquor presently, else it passes not my
lips. "
The leech obeyed him, with a scornful smile.   "I
would drink the whole with readiness; but the juice of
this Indiall gum will bring sleep on the healthy man as
well as upon the patient, and the business of the leech
requires me to be a watcher."'" I crave your pardon, Sir Leech,"  said Ramorny,
looking downwards, as if ashamed to have manifested
susp)icion.
" There is no room for pardon whllere offence must not
be taken," answered the mediciner.  1" An insect must
thank a giant that ibe does not tread on him.  Yet, noble
knight, insects have their power of harming as well as
physicians.   What would it have cost me, save a moment's trouble, so to have drugged that balm, as should
have made your arm rot to the shoulder-joint, and your
life-blood curdle in your veins to a corrupted jelly? 1ilWhat
is the!re tlhat preventecl me to use means yet more subtle,
and to taint your room  with essences, before which the
Ilit of iife twinkles more and more dimly, till it expires,
like a torch amidst the foul vapours of soime subterranean
dungeon? You little estimate my power, if you know not
that thiese, and yet deeper modes of destruction, stand at
conlantl of my art.3  B3ut a physician slays not the patient byv whose generosity h lie ives, and far less wTill he,
the breatli of' whose nostrils is the holpe of revenge, destroy the vowed ally who is to favour hirs pursuit of it.Yet one word;-should a necessity occur for rousing
yourself —for whol in Scotland can promise himlself eiglt
hours uninterrupted repose? —then slnell at the strong
essence contained in this pouncet-box.-And now, farewvell, Sir Knight; and if you cannot think of me as a ni:.i,




ST', VAl,,N IN1'i;   S DA'Y.         0'7
of nice conscience, acknowledog   me at least as one of
reason and of judgment."
So saying tLe nmedliciner left the room; hlis usual meal
and sliufflifng gait elevating itself' into something more noble, as conscious of a victory over his imperious patient.
Sir John Ramnorny remained sunk in unpleasing reflections, until he began to experience the incipient effects of
the soporific draught.  lie then roused himself for an
instant, and sumnnmoned his page.
" Eviot! what ho! Eviot!-I have done ill to unbosom myself so far to this poisonous quack salver —Eviot 1'
The page enltered.;' is the nrediciner gone forth?"' Yes, so please your knighthood."' Alone, or accompanied?"' Bonthron spoke apart with him, and followed him
almost immediately-by your lordship's command, as I
understood him."'- Lack-a-day, yes!-lie goes to seek sorrie medica
ments-he will return anon.  If lie be intoxicated, see
he comes not near my chamber, and permit him not to
enter into converse with any one.  IHe raves when drink
has toucthed his brain.   He was a rare f0ellox, before a
Southron bill laid his brain-pan bare; but since that tine
lie talks gibberish whenever tlhe cup has crossed his lips.
Said thle leech augllt to you, Eviot?"' Nothing, save to reiterate his commands that your
lionour be not disturbed."
"6 Which thou must surely obey," said the lknight. " 1
feel the summons to rest, of wficeli I have been deprived
since this unhappy wound-At least, if I have slept it has
been but for a snatch.  Aid nme to take off my gown,
Eviot."
" May God and the saints send you good rest, my
lord," said the page, retiring after le had rendered his
wounded master the assistance required.
As Eviot left the room, the knigllt, whose brain was
becoming more and more confused, muttered over tlie
)age's departing salutation.




S'F. V, ~LlENTIN I'~ S DAY.
"' God-saints —I have slept sound under such a benison.  But now-metlhinks if' I awake not to the accomplishllment of my proud hopes of power and revenge, thle
best wish for me is, that the slumbers which now  fall
around my head, were the forerunners of that sleep
which shall return my borrowed powers to their original
non-existence- I can argue it no farther."
Thus speaking, lie fell into a profound sleep.
CHAPTER XVI.
0; Fastern's E'en when we war fou.
Scots Song.r
THE night whichl sunk down on the sicl-bed of Rarnorny, was not doomed to be a quiet one.   Two hours
had passed since  curlew-bell, then rung  at seven o'clock
at nighl-lt, and in those prirmitive times all were retired to
rest, excepting such whom devotionl, or duty, or debauchcry made watchers; and tle evening being that of' Shrovetide, or as it was called in Scotland, Fastern's E'en3(7the
vigils of gaiety were by far the most frequented of the
three.
The common people had, tlroughout thle day, toiled
and strugaled at foot-ball; the nobles and grentry had
fought cocks, and lhearkened to the wanton music cf the
minstrel; vwhile the citizens hacd gorged tlieilselves upon
pancakes fried in lard, and brcse, or brewis, the fiat
broth, tllha.t is, in which salted beef had been boiled, poutred upon highly-toasted oatmeal, a dish which even now
is not ungratefhl to simple old-fashioned Scottish palates.
FThese wvere all exercises and festive dishes proper to the
holiday.  It was no less a solemnity of' thle evening, that
the devout Catholic should drink as much good ale and
wvine as he had means to procure; and, if young  and
able, that he should dance at the ring, or figure among
the morrice-dancers, who, in the city of Perth, as elsewhe re wore a peculiarly fiatastic garb, and distinguished




ST. VAL.ENTINE'S DAY.             229
themselves by their address and activity. All this gaiety
took place under the prudential consideration, that the
long term of Lent, now  approaching, with its fasts and
deprivations, rendered it wise for mortals to cram as much
idle and sensual indulgence as they could into the brief
space which intervened before its commencement.
The usual revels had taken place, and in most parts of
the city were succeeded by the usual pause. A particular degree of care had been taken by the nobility, to prevent any renewal of discord betwixt their followers and
the citizens of the town; so that the revels had proceeded with fewer casualties than usual, embracing only
three deaths, and certain fractured limbs, which, occurring to individuals of little note, were not accounted
worth inquiring into.  The Carnival was closing quietly
in general, but in some places the sport was still kept up.
One company of revellers, who had been particularly
noticed and applauded, seemed unwilling to conclude
their frolic. The Entry, as it was called, consisted of
thirteen persons, habited in the same manner, having
doublets of Chamois leather sitting close to their bodies,
curiously slashed, and laced.  They wore green caps
with silver tassels, red ribands, and white shoes, had bells
hung at their knees and around their ankles, and naked
swords in their hands. This gallant party, having exhibited a sword-dance before the King, with much clashing
of weapons, and fantastic interchange of postures, went
on gallantly to repeat their exhibition before the door of
Simon Glover, where, having made a fresh exhibition of
their agility, they caused wine to be served round to their
own company and the by-standers, and with a loud shout
drank to the health of the Fair Maid of Perth.  This
summoned old Simon to the door of his habitation, to
acknowledge the courtesy of his countrymen, and in his
turn to send the wine around in honour of the Merry
Morrice-Dancers of Perth.
" We thank thee, Father Simon," said a voice, which
strove to drown in an artificial squeak the pert conceited
20 VOL. I.




230           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
tone of Oliver Proudfute.  " But a sight of thy lovel
daughter had been more sweet to us young bloods, thai
a whole vintage of MIalvoisie."
" I thank you, neighbours, for your good-will," replied
the Glover.  "My daughter is ill at ease, and may not
come forth into the cold night air-but if this gay gallant,
whose voice methinks I should know, will go into my
poor house, she will charge him with thanks for the rest
of you."
"g Bring them  to us at the hostelrie of the Griffin,"
cried the rest of the ballet to their favoured companion;
" for there will we ring-in Lent, and have another rouse
to the health of the lovely Catharine."
" Have with you in half an hour," said Oliver, " and
see who will quaff the largest flagon, or sing the loudest
glee.  Nay, I will be merry, in what remains of Fastern's
Even, should Lent find me with my mouth closed for
ever.)
" Farewell, then," cried his mates in the morrice;
"farewell, slashing Bonnet-maker, till we meet again."
The morrice-dancers accordingly set out upon their
further progress, dancing and carolling as they went along
to the sound of four musicians, who led the joyous band,
while Simon Glover drew  their Coryphzeus into his
house, and placed him in a chair by his parlour fire.
" But where is your daughter?" said Oliver.  " She
is the bait for us brave blades."
" Why, truly, she keeps her apartment, neighbour
Oliver; " and, to speak plainly, she keeps her bed."
" Why, then will I up stairs to see her in her sorrowyou: have marred my ramble, Gaffer Glover, and you owe
me amends-a roving blade like me-I will not lose both
the lass and the glass.-Keeps her bed, does she?
" My dog and I we have a trick
To visit maids when they are sick;
When they are sick and like to die,
O thither do come my dog and I.
" And when I die, as needs must hap,
Then bury me under the good ale-tap,




ST. TALENTINE'S DAY.              231
With folded arms there let me lie,
Cheek for jowl, my dog tand 1."
" Canst thou not be serious for a moment, neighbour
Proudfute?" said the Glover; " I want a word of conversation with you."
"c Serious?" answered his visiter; " why, I have been
serious all this day-I can hardly open my mouth, but
something comes out about death, a burial, or such-like
-the most serious subjects that I wot of."
56 St. John, man," said the Glover, " art thou fey?"
" No, not a whit-it is not my own death which these
gloomy fancies foretell-I have a strong horoscope, and
shall live for fifty years to come.  But it is the case ot
the poor fellow-the Douglas-man, whom I struck down
at the fray of St. Valentine's —he died last night-it is
that which weighs on my conscience, and awakens sad
fancies.  Ah, Father Simon, we martialists that have
spilt blood in our choler, have dark thoughts at times-I
sometimes wish that my knife had cut nothing but worsted thrums."
" And I wish," said Simon, " that mine had cut nothing but buck's leather, for it has sometimes cut my own
fingers. But thou mayst spare thy remorse for this bout;
there was but one man dangerously hurt at the affray,
and it was he from whom Henry Smith hewed the hand,
and he is well recovered.  His name is Black Quentin,
one of Sir John Ramorny's followers. lie has been sent
privately back to his own country of Fife."
c; What, Black Quentin?-why, that is the very man
that Henry and I, as we ever keep close together, struck
at in the same moment, only my blow fell somewhat earlier. I fear further feud will come of it, and so does the
Provost. —And is he recovered? Why, then, I will be
jovial, and since thou wilt not let me see how Kate becomes her night-gear, I will back to the Griffin to my
morrice-dancers."
c" Nay, stay but one instant.  Thou art a comrade of
Henry Wynd, and hast done him the service to own one
or two deeds, and this last among others. I would thou




23S2          ST. VALlE'NTINE fS DAY.
couldst clear him of other charges, with which fame hath
loaded him."
" Nay, I will swear by the hilt of my sword, they are
as false as hell, Father Simon. What!-blades and
targets! shall not men of the sword stick together?"
" Nay, neighbour Bonnet-maker, be patient; thou
mayst do the Smith a kind turn, an thou takest this matter the right way. I have chosen thee to consult with
anent this matter-not that I hold thee the wisest head
in Perth, for should I say so I should lie."
" Ay, ay," answered the self-satisfied Bonnet-maker;
"' I know where you think my fault lies-you cool heads
think we hot heads are fools-I have heard men call
Henry Wynd such a score of times."
"' Fool enough and cool enough may rhyme together
passing well," said the Glover; " but thou art good-natured, and I think lovest this crony of thine.  It stands
awkwardly with us and him just now," continued Simon.
" Thou knowest there hath been some talk of marriage
between my daughter Catharine and Henry Gow?"
"I have heard some such song since St. Valentine's
morn-Ah i he that shall win the Fair Maid of Perth
must be a happy man-and yet marriage spoils many a
pretty fellow. I myself somewhat regrets"
"' Prithee, truce with thy regrets for the present, man,"
interrupted the Glover, somewhat peevishly. " You must
know, Oliver, that some of these talking women, who I
think make all the business of the world their own, have
accused Henry of keeping light company with glee-women and such-like.  Catharine took it to heart; and I
held my child insulted, that he had not waited upon her
like a Valentine, but had thrown himself into unseemly
society on the very day when, by ancient custom, he might
have had an opportunity to press his interest with my
daughter. Therefore when he came hither late on the
evening of St. Valentine's, I, like a hasty old fool, bid
him go home to the company he had left, and denied him
admittance. I have not seen him since, and I begin to
think that I may have been too rash in the matter.  She




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.             233
Is my only child, and the grave should have her sooner
than a debauchee.  But I have hitherto thought I knew
Henry Gow as if he were my son. I cannot think he
would use us thus, and it may-be there are means of explaining what is laid to his charge.  I was led to ask
Dwining, who is said to have saluted the Smith while he
was walking with his choice mate-If I am to believe his
words, this wench was the Smith's cousin, Joan Letham.
But thou knowest that the pottercarrier ever speaks one
language with his visage, and another with his tongueNow, thou, Oliver, hast too little wit-I mean, too much
honesty-to belie the truth, and as Dwining hinted that
thou also hadst seen her-"
" I see her, Simon Glover! Will Dwining say that 1
saw her?"
" No, not precisely that-but hle says you told him you
had met the Smith thus accompanied."
c; He lies, and I will pound him into a gallipot!" said
Oliver Proudfute.
" How? Did you never tell him then of such a meeting?"
" What an if I did?" said the Bonnet-maker.  " Did
not he swear that he would never repeat again to living
mortal what I communicated to him? and therefore, in
telling the occurrent to you he hath made himself a liar."
" Thou didst not meet the Smith, then," said Simon,'C with such a loose baggage as fame reports?"
" Lack-a-day, not I-perhaps I did, perhaps I did not.
Think, father Simon-I have been a four-years married
man, and can you expect me to remember the turn of a
glee-woman's ankle, the trip of her toe, the lace upon her
petticoat, and such toys? No, I leave that to unmarried
wags like my gossip Henry."
"1 The upshot is, then," said the Glover, much vexed'".you did meet hiim on St. Valentine's day walking the
public streets-~'9
" Not so, neighbour; I met him in the most distant
and dark lane in Perth, steering full for his own house,
20 *  VwOL. I.




234           ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.
with bag and baggage, which, as a gallant fellow, he carried in his arms, the puppy dog on one, and the jilt herself
(and to my thought she was a pretty one) hanging upon
the other."
6' Now, by good St. John," said the Glover, " this infamy would make a Christian man renounce his faith, and
worship Mahound in very anger! But he has seen the
last of my daughter. I would rather she went to the wild
highlands with a bare-legged cateran, than wed with
one who could, at such a season, so broadly forget honour
and decency-Out upon him!"
" Tush! tush! father Simon," said the liberal-minded
Bonnet-maker; " you consider not the nature of young
blood. Their company was not long, for-to speak truth,
I did keep a little watch on him —I met him before sunrise, conducting his errant damsel to the Lady's Stairs,
that the wench might embark on the Tay from Perth;
and I know for certainty, (for I made inquiry,) that she
sailed in a gabbart for Dundee.  So you see it was but a
slight escape of youth."
"~ And he came here," said Simon, bitterly,' beseeching for admittance to my daughter, while he had his harlot
awaiting him at home! I had rather he had slain a score
of men. —It skills not talking, least of all to thee, Oliver
Proudfute, who, if thou art not such a one as himself,
would fain be thought so.  But    "
" Nay, think not of it so seriously," said Oliver, who
began to reflect on the mischief his tattling was likely to
occasion to his friend, and on the consequences of Henry
Gow's displeasure, when he should learn the disclosure
which he had made, rather in vanity of heart than in evil
intention.  " Consider," he continued, " that there are
follies belonging to youth. Occasion provokes men to
such frolics, and confession wipes them off.  I care not
if I tell thee, that though my wife be as goodly a woman
as the city has, yet I myself —"' Peace, silly braggart," said the Glover, in high wrath;
" thy loves and thy battles are alike apocryphal.  If thou
nlust needs lie, which I tlink is thy nature, canst thou in



ST. VALENTINE S DAY.             235
rent no falsehood that may at least do thee some credit?
Do I not see through thee, as I could see the light through
the horn of a base lantern? Do I not know, thou filthy
weaver of rotten worsted, that thou durst no more cross
the threshold of thy own door, if thy wife. heard of thy
making such a boast, than thou darest cross naked weapons with a boy of twelve years old, who has drawn a
sword for the first time in his life? By St. John, it were
paying you for your tale-bearing trouble, to send thy
Maudie word of thy gay brags."
The Bonnet-maker, at this threat, started as if a crossbow bolt had whizzed past his head when least expected.
And it was with a trembling voice that he replied, " Nay,
good father Glover, thou takest too much credit for thy
grey hairs.  Consider, good neighbour, thou art too old
for a young martialist to wrangle with. And in the matter of my Maudie, I can trust thee, for I know no one
who would be less willing than thou to break the peace of
families."
~" Trust thy coxcomb no longer with me," said the incensed Glover; " but take thyself, and the thing thou
call'st a head, out of my reach, lest I borrow back five
minutes of my youth, and break thy pate."
" You have had a merry Fastern's Even, neighbour,"
said the Bonnet-maker, " and I wish you a quiet sleep;
we shall meet better friends to-morrow."
"Out of my doors to-night!" said the Glover.  " I am
ashamed so idle a tongue as thine should have power to
move me thus."
" Idiot-beast-loose-tongued coxcomb!" he exclaimed, throwing himself into a chair, as the Bonnet-maker
disappeared; " that a fellow made up of lies should not
have had the grace to frame one when it might leave covered the shame of a friend! And I-wxlat am 1, that I
should, in my secret mind, wish that such a gross insult to
me and my child had been glossed over? Yet such was
my opinion of Henry, that I would have willingly believed
the grossest figment the swaggering ass could have in
vented.  Well!-it skills not thinking of it. Our honest




236           ST. VALENTINE7S DAY.
name must be maintained, though every thing else should
go to ruin."
While the Glover thus moralized on the unwelcome
confirmation of the tale he wished to think untrue, the
expelled morrice-dancer had leisure, in the composing air
of a cool and dark February night, to meditate on the
consequences of the Glover's unrestrained anger.
"But it is nothing," he bethought himself, " to the
wrath of Henry Wynd, who hath killed a man for much
less than placing displeasure betwixt him and Catharine,
as well as her fiery old father. Certainly I were better
have denied every thing. But the humour of seeming a
knowing gallant (as in truth I am) fairly overcame me.
Were I best go to finish the revel at the Griffin?-But then,
Mlaudie will rampauge on my return, —ay, and this being
holiday even, I may claim a privilege. —I have it-I will
not to the griffin-I will to the Smith's, who must be at
home, since no one hath seen him this day amid the revel.
I will endeavour to make peace with him, and offer my
intercession with the Glover. Harry is a simple downright fellow, and though I think he is my better in a broil,
yet in discourse I can turn him my own way.  The streets
are now quiet-the night, too, is dark, and I may step
aside if I meet any rioters.  I will to the Smith's, and,
securing him for my friend, I care little for old Simon.
Saint Ringan bear me well through this night, and I will
clip my tongue out ere it shall run my head into such
peril again! Yonder old fellow, when his blood was up,
looked more like a carver of buff-jerkins than a clipper
of kid-gloves."
With these reflections, the puissant Oliver walked swift
ly, yet with as little noise as possible, towards the wynd
in which the Smith, as our readers are aware, had his
habitation. But his evil fortune had not ceased to pursue
him. As he turned into the High, or principal Street,
he heard a burst of music very near him, followed by a
loud shout.
" My merry mates, the morrice-dancers," thought he;' I would know old Jeremy's rebeck amox;g anl hundred




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.             237
I will venture across the street ere they pass on-if I am
espied, I shall have the renown of some private quest
which may do me honour as a roving blade."
With these longings for distinction among the gay and
gallant, combated, however, internally, by more prudential considerations, the Bonnet-maker made an attempt to
cross the street.  But the revellers, whoever they might
be, were accompanied by torches, the flash of which fell
upon Oliver, whose light-coloured habit made him the
more distinctly visible. The general shout of "' A prize,
a prize," overcame the noise of the minstrel, and before
the Bonnet-maker could determine whether it were better
to stand or fly, two active young men, clad in fantastic
masking habits, resembling wild men, and holding great
clubs, seized upon him, saying, in a tragical tone, " Yield
thee, man of bells and bombast; yield thee, rescue or no
rescue, or truly thou art but a dead morrice-dancer."
"- To whom shall I yield me?" said the Bonnet-maker,
with a faltering voice; for though he saw he had to do
with a party of mummers who were a-foot for pleasure,
yet he observed, at the same time, that they were far
above his class, and he lost the audacity necessary to
support his part in a game where the inferior was likely
to come by the worst.
"' Dost thou parley, slave?" answered one of the maskers; " and must I show thee that thou art a captive, by
giving thee incontinently the bastinado?"
" By no means, puissant man of Ind," said the Bonnetmaker; "' lo, I am conformable to your pleasure."
" Come, then," said those who had arrested him,
" come and do homage to the Emperor of Mimes, King
of Caperers, and Grand Duke of the Dark Hours, and
explain by what right thou art so presumptuous as to
prance and jingle, and wear out shoe-leather within his
Aominions, without paying him tribute.  Know'st thou not
thou hlast incurred the pains of high-treason?"
"' That were hard, methinks," said poor Oliver, "' since
I knew not that his Grace exercised the government this
evening. But I am willing to redeem the forfeit, if the




238           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
purse of a poor Bonnet-maker may, by the mulct ot a
gallon of wine, or some such matter."
a' Bring him before the Emperor," was the universal
cry; and the morrice-dancer was placed before a slight,
but easy and handsome figure of a young man, splendidly
attired, having a cincture and tiara of peacock's feathers,
then brought from  the East as a marvellous rarity; a
short jacket and under-dress of leopard's skill fitted closely the rest of his person, which was attired in flesh-coloured silk, so as to resemble the ordinary idea of an Indian
prince. He wore sandals, fastened on with ribands of
scarlet silk, and held in his hand a sort of fan, such as
ladies then used, composed of the same feathers, assembled into a plume or tuft.
" What mister wight have we here," said the Indian
chief, " who dares to tie the bells of a morrice on the
ankles of a dull ass?-Hark ye, friend, your dress should
make you a subject of ours, since our empire extends
over all Merryland, including mimes and minstrels of
every description.-What, tongue-tied? He lacks wine —
minister to him our nut-shell full of sack."
A huge calabash full of sack was offered to the lips
of the supplicant, while this prince of revellers exhorted him," Crack me this nut, and do it handsomely, and without wry faces."
But, however Oliver might have relished a moderate
sip of the same good wine, he was terrified at the quantity he was required to deal with. He drank a draught,
and then entreated for mercy.' So please your princedom, I have yet far to go, and
if I were to swallow your grace's bounty, for which accept my dutiful thanks, I should not be able to stride over
the next kennel."
" Art thou in case to bear thyself like a galliard? Now
cut me a caper-ha i one-two —three-admirable!again-give him the spur- (here a satellite of the Indian
gave Oliver a slight touch with his sword)-Nay, that is
best of all —he sprang like a cat in a gutter! Tendei




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.             239
him the nut once more —nay, no compulsion, he has paid
forfeit, and deserves not only free dismissal but reward
Kneel down, kneel, and arise Sir Knight of the Calabash! What is thy name? And one of you lend me a
rapier."
"6 Oliver, may it please your honour-I mean your
principality."
"' Oliver, man? nay, then thou art one of the Douze
peers37 already, and fate has forestalled our intended promotion.  Yet rise up, sweet Sir Oliver Thatchpate,
Knight of the honourable order of the Pumpkin-Rise
up, in the name of Nonsense, and begone about thine
own concerns, and the devil go with thee."
So saying, the prince of the revels bestowed a smart
blow with the flat of the weapon across the Bonnetmaker's shoulders, who sprung to his feet with more
alacrity of motion than he had hitherto displayed, and,
accelerated by the laugh and halloo which arose behind
him, arrived at the Smith's house before he stopped,
with the same speed with which a hunted fox makes for
his. den.
It was not till the affrighted Bonnet-maker had struck
a blow on the door, that he recollected he ought to have
bethoughlit himself beforehand in what manner he was to
present himself before Henry, and obtain his forgiveness
for his rash comrnunications to Simon Glover.  No one
answered to his first knock, and, perhaps, as these reflections arose, in the momentary pause of recollection which
circumstances permitted, the perplexed Bonnet-maker
might have flinched from his purpose, and made his retreat to his own premises, without venturing upon the
interview which he had purposed. But a distant strain
of minstrelsy revived his apprehensions of falling once
more into the hands of the gay maskers from whom lie
had escaped, and he renewed the summons on the door
of the Smith's dwelling, with a hurried, though falteringo
hand.  He was then appalled by the deep, yet not unmusical voice of Henry Gow, who answered from within




240           ST. VAILENTINE S DAY.
— " Who calls at this hour? —and what is it that you
want?"
" It is I-Oliver Proudfute," replied the Bonnet-maker; " I have a merry jest to tell you, gossip Henry."
" Carry thy foolery to some other market.  I am in no
jesting humour," said Henry.  " Go hence —I will see
no one to-night."
"But, gossip-good gossip," answered the martialist
without, " I am beset with villains, and beg the shelter
of your roof!"
"~ Fool that thou art!" replied Henry; " no dunghill
cock, the most recreant that has fought this Fastern's
Even, would ruffle his feathers at such a craven as thou!'9
At this moment another strain of minstrelsy, and, as the
Bonnet-maker conceited, one which approached much
nearer, goaded his apprehensions to the uttermost; and
in a voice, the tones of which expressed the undisguised
extremity of instant fear, he exclaimed,"L For the sake of our old gossipred, and for the love
of Our blessed Lady, admit me, Henry, if you would
not have me found a bloody corpse at thy door, slain by
the bloody-minded Douglasses!"
" That would be a shame to me, " thought the goodnatured Smith; " and sooth to say, his peril may be real.
There are roving hawks that will strike at a sparrow as
soon as a heron."
With these reflections, half-muttered, half-spoken, Henry undid his well-fastened door, proposing to reconnoitre
the reality of the danger before he permitted his unweIcome guest to enter the house.  But as he looked abroad
to ascertain how matters stood, Oliver bolted in like a
scared deer into a thicket, and harboured himself by the
Smith's kitchen-fire, before Henry could look up and
down the lane, and satisfy himself there were no enemies
in pursuit of the apprehensive fugitive.  He secured his
door, therefore, and returned into the kitchen, displeased
that he had suffered his gloomy solitude to be initruded
upon by sympathizing with apprehensions, which he




ST'. VY YO'XLNTINE S DXA.        24 
thought he might have known were so easily excited as
those of his timid townsman.
1' How now?" he said, coldly enough, when he saw
the Bonnet-maker calmly seated by his hearth.  " What
foolish revel is this, Master Oliver?-I see no one near
to harm you."
"d Give me a drink, kind gossip," said Oliver; " I am
choked with the haste I have made to come hither."
" I have sworn," said Henry, " that this shall be no
revel night in this house-I am in my work-day clothes,
as you see, and keep fast, as I have reason, instead of
holiday. You have had wassail enough for the holiday
evening, for you speak thick already-If you wish more
ale or wine you must go elsewhere."
" IJ have had over much wassail already," said poor
Oliver, "6 and have been wellnigh drowned in it,-That
accursed calabash!-A draught of water, kind gossipyou will not surely let me ask for that in vain? or, if it
is your will, a cup of cold small ale."
"; Nay, if that be all," said Henry, " it shall not be
lacking.  But it must have been much which brought
thee to the pass of asking for either."
So saying, he filled a quart flagon from a barrel that
stood nigh, and presented it to his guest.  Oliver eagerly
accepted it, raised it to his head with a trembling hand,
imbibed the contents with lips which quivered with emotion, and, though the potation was as thin as he had requested, so much was he exhausted with the combined
fears of alarm and of former revelry, that when he placed
the flagon on the oak table, he uttered a deep sigh of
satisfaction, and remained silent.
" Well, now you have had your draught, gossip," said
the Smith, what is it you want? Where are those that
threatened you? I could see no one."
"1 No, but there were twenty chased me into the wynd,"
said Oliver.  " But when they saw us together, you know
they lost the courage that brought all of them upon one
of us."
21  VOL. I.




242           ST. YALENTINE'S DA-.
" Nay, do not trifle, friend Oliver," replied his host
" my mood lies not that way."
"I jest not, by St. John of Perth. I have been stayed
and foully outraged (gliding his hand sensitively over the
place affected) by mad David of Rothsay, roaring Ramorny, and the rest of them.  They made me drink a
firkin of Malvoisie."
" Thou speakest folly, man-Ramorny is sick nigh to
death, as the pottercarrier every where reports; they
and he canilot surely rise at midnight to do such frolics."
" I cannot tell," replied Oliver; " but I saw the party
by torch-light, and I can make bodily oath to the bonnets
I made for them since last Innocents. They are of a
quaint device, and I should know my own stitch."
"Well, thou mayst have had wrong," answered Henry.
" If thou art in real danger, I will cause them get a bed
for thee here.  But you must fill it presently, for I am
not in the humour of talking."
" Nay, I would thank thee for my quarters for a night,
only my MIaudie will be angry-that is, not angry, for
that I care not for-but the truth is, she is over anxious
on a revel night like this, knowing my humour is like
thine, for a word and a blow."
"6 Why, then, go home," said the Smith, "C and show
her that her treasure is in safety, Master Oliver —the
streets are quiet-and, to speak a blunt word, I would be
alone."
" Nay, but I have things to speak with thee about of
moment," replied Oliver, ewho, afraid to stay, seemed yet
unwilling to go.  "' There has been a stir in our city
council about the affair of St. Valentine's Even.  The
Provost told me not four hours since, that the Douglas
and he had agreed that the feud should be decided by a
yeoman on either part, and that our acquaintance, the
Devil's Dick, was to wave his gentry, and take up the
cause for Douglas and the nobles, and that you or I should
fight for the Fair City.  Now though I am the elder burgess, yet I am willing;, for the love and kindness we have




ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.              243
always borne to each other, to give thee the precedence,
and content myself with the humbler office of stickler."'
Henry Smith, though angry, could scarce forbear a
smile.
6 If it is that which breaks thy quiet, and keeps thee
out of thy bed at midnight, I will make the matter easy.
Thou shalt not lose the advantage offered thee.  I have
fought a score of duels-far, far too many.  Thou hast,
I think, only encountered with thy wooden Soldan —it
were unjust-unfair-unkind-in me to abuse thy friendly
offer.  So go home, good fellow, and let not the fear of
losing honour disturb thy slumbers.  Rest assured that
thou shalt answer the challenge, as good right thou hast,
having had injury from this rough-rider."
Gramercy, and thank thee kindly," said Oliver, much
embarrassed by his friend's unexpected deference; " thou
art the good friend I have always thought thee.  But I
have as much friendship for Henry Smith, as he for Oliver Proudfute.  I swear by St John, I will not fight in
this quarrel to thy prejudice.  So, having said so, I am
beyond the reach of temptation, since thou wouldst not
have me mansworn, though it were to fight twenty duels."
l Hark thee," said the Smith, "' acknowledge thou art
afraid, Oliver; tell the honest truth, at once, otherwise I
leave thee to make the best of thy quarrel."
"' Nay, good gossip," replied the Bonnet-maker, " thou
knowest I am never afraid.  But, in sooth, this is a desperate ruffian; and as I have a wife-poor Maudie, thou
knowest-and a small family, and thou-  "
" And I," interrupted Henry, hastily, " have none,
and never shall have."
" Why, truly  such being the case-I would rather
thou fought'st this comblat than I."
"' Now, by our holidame, gossip," answered the Smith,
" thou art easily gulled.  Know, thou silly fellow, that
Sir Patrick Charteris, who is ever a merry man, hath but
- *The seconds in ancient single combats were so called, from the white
sticks which they carried, in emblem of their duty, to see lair play betwee
the combatants.




244           ST. VYIevA  tL NES DBAY.
jested with thee.  Dost thou think he would venture the
honour of the city on thy head? or that I would yield
thee the precedence in which such a matter was to be
disputed? Lack-a-day, go home, let Maudie tie a warm
nightcap on thy head; get thee a warm breakfast, and a
cup of distilled waters, and thou wilt be in case to-morrow
to fight thy wooden dromond, or Soldan, as thou call'st
him, the only thing thou wilt ever lay downright blow
upon.'
"5 Ay, say'st thou so, comrade?" answered Oliver,
much relieved, yet deeming it necessary to seem in part
offended.'~ I care not for thy dogged humour; it is well
for thee thou canst not wake my patience to the point of
falling foul.  Enouglh-we are gossips, and this house is
thine.  Why should the two best blades in Perth clashl
with each other? What i I know thy rugged humour, and
can forgive it.-But is the feud really soldered up?"
"1 As completely as ever hammer fixed rivet," said the
Smith.'" The town hath given the Johnston a purse of
gold, for not ridding them of a troublesome fellow called
Oliver Proudfute, when he had him at his mercy; and
this purse of gold buys for the Provost the Sleepless Isle,
which the King grants him, for the King pays all in the
long run. And thus, Sir Patrick gets the comely Inch,
which is opposite to his dwelling, and all honour is saved
on both sides, for what is given to the Provost, is given,
you understand, to the town. Besides all this, the Douglashathleft Perth to march against the Southlron, whom
men say are called into the Marches by the false Earl of
March. So the Fair City is quit of him and his cumber."
" But. in St. John's name, how came all that about?'
said Oliver; 6" and no one spoken to about it?"
66 Why, look thee, friend Oliver, this I take to have
been the case.  The fellow whom I cropped of a hand,
is now said to have been a servant of Sir John Ramorny's, who hath fled to his motherland of Fife, to wvhich
Sir John himself is also to be banished, with full consent
Df every honest man.  Now, anything which brings in
Sir John Ramorny, touches a much greater man-I think




ST. YALEIENTI.NEI'S DAY,          245
Simon Glover told as much to Sir Patrick Charteris.  It'
it be as I guess, I have reason to thank Heaven, and all
the saints, I stabbed him not upon the ladder when I made
him prisoner."
1" And I too thank Heaven, and all the saints, most devoutly," said Oliver.'I was behind thee, thou knowest,
and-'" No more of that, if thou be'st wise-There are laws
against striking princes," said the Smith; " best not handle the horse-shoe till it cools.  All is hushed up now.-'
"6 If this be so," said Oliver, partly disconcerted, but
still more relieved, by the intelligence he received from
his better informed friend, "' I have reason to complain
of Sir Patrick Charteris for jesting with the honour of an
honest burgess, being as he is, Provost of our town."
" Do, Oliver; challenge him to the field, and he will
bid his yeoman loose his dogs on thee.-But come, night
wears apace, will you be shogging?"
1" Nay, I had one word more to say to thee, good gossip. But first, another cup of your cold ale."
"' Pest on thee, for a fool! Thou makest me wish thee
where cold liquors are a scarce commodity.-There, swill
the barrelful an thou wilt."
Oliver took the second flagon, but drank, or rather
seemed to drink, very slowly, in order to gain time for
considering how lie should introduce his second subject
of conversation, which seemed rather delicate for the
Smith's present state of irritability.  At length, nothing
better occurred to him than to plunge into the subject at
once, with,; I have seen Simon Glover to-day, gossip."
4' Well," said the Smith, in a low, deep, and stern tone
of voice,'" and if thou hast, what is that to me?"
"' Nothing-nothing,'7 answered the appalled Bonnet
maker.  " Only I thougllht you might like to know that
lie questioned me close, if I had seen thee on St. Valentine's day, after the uproar at the Dominicans', and in
what company thou wert."'
21 *  VOL. I




246           ST. VATLENTINEI S DAY.
cc And I warrant thou toldcst him thou met'st me with
a,lee-woman, in the mirk loaning yonder?"
"1 Thou know'st, Henry, I have no gift at lying; but I
made it all up with him."
" As how, I pray you?" said the Smith.
T" Marry, thus-Father Simon, said I, you are an old
mlan, and know not the quality of us, in whose veins
youth is like quicksilver.  You think now, he cares about
this girl, said I, and, perhaps, that he has her somewhere
here in Perth in a corner? No such matter; I know,
said I, and I will make oath to it, that she left his house
early next morning for Dundee. Ha! have I helped thee
at need?"
"Truly, I think thou hast, and if anything could add
to my grief and vexation at this moment, it is, that when
I am so deep in the mire, an ass like thee should place
his clumsy hoof on my head, to sink me entirely. Come,
away with thee, and mayst thou have such luck as thy
meddling humour deserves, and then, I think, thou wilt be
found with a broken neck in the next gutter-Come, get
you out, or I will put you to the door with head and
shoulders forward."
" Ha, ha!" exclaimed Oliver, laughing with some constraint; "thou art such a groom! But in sadness, gossip
Henry, wilt thou not take a turn with me to my own
house, in the Meal Vennal?"
"' Curse thee, no," answered the Smith.
"' I will bestow the wine on thee, if thou wilt go," said
Oliver.' I will bestow the cudgel on thee, if thou stay'st,"
said Henry.', Nay, then, I will don thy buff-coat and cap of steel,
and walk with thy swashing step, and whistling thy pi.
broch of,' Broken Bones at Loncarty;' and if they take
me for thee, there dare not four of them come near me.
" Take all, or anything thou wilt, in the fiend's name t
only be gone."
" Well, well, Hal, we shall meet when thou art in better humour," said Oliver. who had put on the dress




ST. ~ALrEINTINE S DAY.            247
c" Go —and may I never see thy coxcombly face again."
Oliver at last relieved his host by swaggering off, imitating, as well as he could, the sturdy step and outward
gesture of his redoubted companion, and whistling a pibroch, composed on the rout of the Danes at Loncarty,
which he had picked up from its being a favourite of the
Smith's, whom he made a point of imitating as far as he
could.  But as the innocent, though conceited fellow,
stepped out from the entrance of the wynd, where it
communicated with the High Street, he received a blow
from behind, against which his head-piece was no defence,
and he fell dead upon the spot; an attempt to mutter the
name of Henry, to whom he always looked for protection,
quivering upon his dying tongue.
CHAPTER XVII.
Nay, I will fit you for a young Prince.
Falstaff.
WE return to the revellers, who had, half an hour before, witnessed, with such boisterous applause, Oliver's
feat of agility, being the last which the poor Bonnetmaker was ever to exhibit, and at the hasty retreat which
had followed it, animated by their wild shout. After they
had laughed their fill, they passed on their mirthful path,
in frolic and jubilee, stopping and frightening some of the
people whom they met; but, it must be owned, without
doing them any serious injury, either in their persons or
feelings.  At length, tired with his rambles, their chief
gave a signal to his merrymen to close around him.
" We9 my brave hearts and wise counsellors, are," he
said, " the real King38 over all in Scotland that is worth
commanding.  We sway the hours when the wine-cup
circulates, and when beauty becomes kind, when Frolic
is awake, and Gravity snoring upon his pallet. We leave
to our vicegerent, King Robert, the weary task of con



,48           ST. ~VA LE INTT NE,  DAVY.
trolling ambitious nobles, gratifying greedy clergymen
subduing wild Highlanders, and composing deadly feuds.
And since our empire is one of joy and pleasure, meet it
is that we should haste with all our forces, to the rescue
of such as own our sway, when they chance, by evil forturie, to become the prisoners of care and hypochondriac
malady.  I speak in relation chiefly to Sir John, whom
the vulgar call Ramorny.  WVe have not seen him since
the onslaught of Curfew Street, and though we know he
was some deal hurt in that matter, we cannot see why he
should not do homage in leal and duteous sort. —Here,
you, our Calabash King-at-arms, did you legally summon
Sir John to his part of this evening's revels?"
"I did, my lord."'" And did you acquaint him that we have for this night
suspended his sentence of banishment, that since higher
powers have settled that part, we might at least take a
mirthful leave of an old friend?"
I I so delivered it, my lord," answered the mimic
herald.
" And sent he not a word in writing, he that piques
himself upon being so great a clerk?"
GH He was in bed, my lord, and I might not see him.
So far as I hear, he hath lived very retired, harmed with
some bodily bruises, malecontent with your Highness's
displeasure, and doubting insult in the streets, he having
had a narrow escape from the burgesses, when the churls
pursued him and his two servants into the Dominican
Convent.  The servants, too, have been removed to Fife,
lest they should tell tales."
c" Why, it was wisely done," said the Prince,-who
we need not inform the intelligent reader, had a better
title to be so called, than arose from the humours of the
evening,-" It was prudently done to keep light-tongued
companions out of the way.  But Sir John's absenting
himself from our solemn revels, so long before decreed,
is fiat mutiny, and disclamation of allegiance. Or, if the
knight be really the prisoner of illness and melancholy..we must ourself grace him with a visit, seeing there can




ST. TA1LENT'ANTJE 5 DrAY.         249
De no better cure for those maladies than our own presence, and a gentle kiss of the calabash.-Forward, ush-1
ers, minstrels, guard, and attendants i Bear on high the
great emblem of our dignity-Up with the calabash, I
say! and let the merrymen who carry these firkins, which
are to supply the wine-cup with their life-blood, be chosen
with regard to their state of steadiness. Their burden is
weighty and precious, and if the fault is not in our eyes,
they seem to us to reel and stagger more than were desirable.  Now, move on, sirs, and let our minstrels blow
their blithest and boldest."
On they went with tipsy mirth and jollity, the numerous torches flashing their red light against the small windows of the narrow streets, from whence night-capped
householders, and sometimes their wives to boot, peeped
out by stealth to see what wild wassail disturbed the
peaceful streets at that unwonted hour. At length the
jolly train halted before the door of Sir John Ramorny's
house, which a small court divided from the street.
Here they knocked, thundered, and hollowed, with
many denunciations of vengeance against the recusants,
who refused to open the gates.  The least punishment
threatened was imprisonment in an empty hogshead,
within the Massamore39 of the Prince of Pastimes' feudal
palace, videlicit, the ale-cellar.  But Eviot, Ramorny's
page, heard and knew well the character of the intruders
who knocked so boldly, and thought it better, considering
his master's condition, to make no answer at all, in hopes
that the revel would pass on, than to attempt to deprecate
their proceedings, which he knew would be to no purpose.
His master's bed-room looking into a little garden, his
page hoped he might not be disturbed by the noise; and
he was confident in the strength of the outward gate,
upon which he resolved they should beat till they tired
thembelves, or till the tone of their drunken humour should
change. The revellers accordingly seemed likely to ex1lallst themselves in the noise they made by shouting and
beating the door, when their mock Prince (alas! too




250           ST. VAtLFNTINEF S DAY.
really such) upbraided them as lazy and dull followers of
the god of wine and of mirth.
" Bring forward," he said, " our key-yonder it lies,
and apply it to this rebellious gate."
The key he pointed at was a large beam of wood, left
on one side of the street, with the usual neglect of order
characteristic of a Scottish borough of the period.
The shouting men of Ind instantly raised it in their
arms, and supporting it by their united strength, ran
against the door with such force, that hasp, hinge, and
staple jingled, and gave fair promise of yielding. Eviot
did not choose to wait the extremity of this battery; he
came forth into the court, and after some momentary questKions for form's sake, caused the porter to undo the gate,
as if he had for the first time recognized the midnight
visiters.
" False slave of an unfaithful master," said the Prince,
" where is our disloyal subject, Sir John Ramorny, who
has proved recreant to our summons?"
"' My lord," said Eviot, bowing at once to the real and
to the assumed dignity of the leader; "' my master is
just now very much indisposed-he has taken an opiate
-and-your Highness must excuse me if I do my duty
to him in saying, he cannot be spoken with without danger of his life."
Tush! tell me not of danger, Master Teviot-Cheviot-Eviot-what is it they call thee? —But show me
thy master's chamber, or rather undo me the door of his
lodging, and I will make a good guess at it myself.-Bear
high the calabash, my brave followers, and see that you
spill not a drop of the liquor, which Dan Bacchus has
sent for the cure of all diseases of the body, and cares oi
the mind. Advance it, I say, and let us see the holy rind
which encloses such precious liquor."
The Prince made his way into the house accordingly,
and, acquainted with its interior, ran up stairs, followed by
Eviot, in vain imploring silence, and, with the rest of the
rabble rout, burst into the room of the wounded master
of the lodging.




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              251
He who has experienced the sensation of being compelled to sleep in spite of racking bodily pains, by the
administration of a strong opiate, and of having been
again startled by noise and violence, out of the unnatural
state of insensibility in which he had been plunged by the
potelcy of the medicine, may be able to imagine the confused and alarmed state of Sir John Ramorny's mind, and
the agony of his body, which acted and re-acted upon
each other.  If we add to these feelings the consciousness
of a criminal command, sent forth and in the act of being
executed, it may give us some idea of an awakening, to
which, in the mind of the party, eternal sleep would be
a far preferable doom. The groan which he uttered as
the first symptom of returning sensation, had something
in it so terrific, that even the revellers were awed into
momentary silence; and as, from the half recumbent
posture in which he had gone to sleep, he looked around
the room, filled with fantastic shapes, rendered still more
so by his disturbed intellects, he muttered to himself," It is thus then, after all, and the legend is true!
These are fiends, and I am condemned for ever! Tile fire
is not external, but I feel it-I feel it at my heart —burning as if the seven times heated furnace were doing its
work within!"
While he cast ghastly looks around him, and struggled
to recover some share of recollection, Eviot approached
the Prince, and falling on his knees, implored him to allow
the apartment to be cleared.
" It may," he said, " cost my master his life."
"Never fear, Cheviot," replied the Duke of Rothsay;
" were he at the gates of death, here is what should make
the fiends relinquish their prey.-Advance the calabash,
my masters."
"' It is death for him to taste it in his present state,"
said Eviot; " if he drinks wine he dies."
" Some one must drink it for him, he shall be cured
vicariously-and may our great Dan Bacchus deign to
Sir John Ramorny the comfort, the elevation of heart,
the lubrication of lungs, and lightness of fancy, which are




252          ST. VAL;ENT'INE:S PA o.
his choicest gifts, while the faithful follower, who quaffs
in his stead, shall have the qualms, the sickness, the racking of the nerves, the dimness of the eyes, and the throbbing of the brain, with which our great master qualifies
gifts which would else make us too like the gods.-What
say you, Eviot? will you be the faithful follower that will
quaff in your lord's behalf, and as his representative?
IDo this, and we will hold ourselves contented to depart,
for, methinks, our subject doth look something ghastly."
" I would do anything in my slight power," said Eviot,
" to save my master from a draught which may be his
death, and your Grace from the sense that you had occasioned it. But here is one who will perform the feat of
good-will, and thank your Highness to boot."
s" Whom have we here?" said the Prince, "' a butcher
-and I think fresh from his office. Do butchers ply their
craft on Fastern's Eve? Foh, how he smells of blood!"
This was spoken of Bonthron, who, partly surprised at
the tumult in the house, where he had expected to find
all dark and silent, and partly stupid through the wine,
which the wretch had drunk in great quantities, stood in
the threshold of the door, staring at the scene before him,
with his buff-coat splashed with blood, and a bloody axe
in his hand, exhibiting a ghastly and disgusting spectacle
to the revellers, who felt, though they could not tell why,
fear as well as dislike at his presence.
As they approached the calabash to this ungainly and
truculent-looking savage, and as he extended a hand
soiled, as it seemed, with blood, to grasp it, the Prince
called out," Down stairs with him! let not the wretch drink in
our presence; find him some other vessel than our holy
calabash, the emblem  of our revels-a swine's trough
were best, if it could be come by.  Away with him! let
him be drenched to purpose, in atonement for his master's
sobriety.-Leave me alone with Sir John Ramorny and
his page; by my honour, I like not yon ruffian's looks."
The attendants of the Prince left the apartment, and
Eviot alone remained.




5', Vr VA.rEN4TIN3S i1 1  D AY.      253
C"1 ftar,'  said the Prince, approachling thle bed in dif-'erent fortln froi'l thlaCot which lie ihad hlhtlerto used —-' I
rear, my dear Si Joh0n, that this visit has been unwelcome;
DUt it is your owxn fIuit.  Althoulh you know  our o1ld
wvont, and were ryourself participant of our schemel s ir
the evening, you have not comne near us since iSt. Valentinue's-t is nowv  llaseerls   Even, and the desertion is flat
disobedience and treason to our kingdom of mirtn, and
tile statutes of the caimb ash."'
Ramorny raised hlis  ead, and fixed a wavering eye
upon the Prince; tnlre  sirned to Eviot to give him somethintg to drink.  A    large cup of ptisan wvas presented by
tle pg), whvich the sick mann sw\allowed with eager aid
tremblmling lhaste   H:-e the-i repeatedly used the stiniulatMOg essence left fbr te purpiose by the leech, and seemed
to collect his scattered senses.
G" Let me feel your pulse, dear Ramorny," said t1ie
Prince; 3" I know somethling of tlhat craft.-How? Do
you offer me the left hand, Sir John?-that is neither
according to the rules of medicine nor of courtesy."
" The right has already done its last act in your Highness' service,5  muttered the patient, in a low and broken
tone.
6 HIow imean you by thlat?" said the Prince; 6' I am
aware thy follower, Black Quentin, lost a hIand; but h}e
can steal with the other as much as will bring him to the
gallows, so his fliate cannot be much altered."'
"; It is not that fellow whlo has ehad the loss in your
Grace's service-it is 1-John of Ramorny."
6' You!" said the Prince; " you jest with me, or the
opiate still masters your reason."
I6 f the juice of all the poppies in Egypt were blended
in one draught," said Ramorny, " it would lose influence
over me when I look upon this."'  He drew his right arm
firom beneath the cover of the bed-clothes, and extendinlg
it towards tile Prince, wrapped  as it was in dressings,
"' Were these undone and removed,'" le said, " your
Highlness would see that a bloody stump is all that remains
22 veo. 1.




25 4            S'T. VA1,E'INT IN'; S DAY.
of a halnd ever ready to unsheath tie sword at your
Grace's slightest bidding."
Rothsay started back in horror.  " This," he said,' must be avenged."
6It is avenged in small part," said Ramorny;   thlat
s; I thought I saw Bonthron but now-or was it that thlul
dream of hell that first arose in my mind when I awaken -
si1, summoned up an image so congenial? Eviot, call the
Miscreant,-that is, if he is fit to appear.'
Eviot retired, and presently returned with Bonthron,
whom lie bad rescued from the penance, to him no unpleasing infliction, of a second calabash of wine, the brute
having gorged the first without much apparent alteration
in his demeanour.
"' Eviot," said the Prince, " let not that beast come
nigh nme.  My soul recoils from him in fear and disgust;
there is something in his looks alien from my nature, and
which I shudder at as at a loathsoime snake, firomn which
mly instinct revolts."
"' First hear him speak, nmy lord," answered Ram.orny
"' unless a wineskin were to talk, notthiing could use few\er
words.-tiast thou dealt with limn, Bonthron?"
T'he savage raised the axe which he still held in his
hand, and brought it down  again edlgeways.' Good.  How knew you )our man?thile night, I atim
told, is dark."' By silght and sound, garb, gait, aidl lhist!e.'
~  EnllOug h, vanish! —andl, ETviOt), let bi  have o;old and
wine to his brutish contentment.-Vnilh!-and go tllou
vitih himn."'" Arnd whose death is achieved?"  said the Prince,
released fr'om the feelings of disgust and horror under
vwhich Ihe suiTered while tlhe assassin was in plresence.
"s I trust this is blut a jest? Else must I call it a rash and
savage (lee(d.  WVho has hl-ad the hard lot to be butchered
by tlhat bloody and brutal slave?"
" One little better than hirmself," said the patient; "' a
wretched artizan, to Ilwhomn, however, fate gave the power
of r!educin, Ramnorny to a mutilated cripple-a curse go




ST'. VA,-U TNL F'2' N''S DAY.      2 5 5
with his base spirit! —lis miserable life is but to my revenge what a drop of water would be to a fiurnace.  I
Inust speak briefly, for my ideas again wander; it is only
-lie necessity of the moment wfhilch keeps then togetlher,
as a thong combines a handlFul of arrows. You are in dang'er my lorid-I speak it with certainty-you lhave braved
Douglas, and offlndced your uncle —displeased your ihther-thoughl that were a trifle, were it not ior the rest."
I; T am sorry I have displeased my father," said the
Prince, (entirely diverted friom so insignificant a thing as
thle slaughter of' an artizan, by the more important sub-;ect touched upon,) "6 if indeed it be so.  But if I live,
thie strength of the Douglas slhall be broken, andc the craft
of Albany shall little avail him!"
"Ay-fr-if.   My lord," said Ramorny, "v with such
opposites as you have, you must not rest upon if'or bt
-you must resolve at once to slay or be slain."
lo How mieall you, Rarmorny? your feve r makes you
rave," answered the Dulke of Rothlsay.' No, my lord," said Ramorny, were mny frenzy at the
highest, tllhe thoughts that pass through my m-ind at this
momnent would qualify it.  It may be that regret for my
own loss has made me desperate; that anxious t-houghts
for your Highness's safety have made me nourish bold
designs; but I have all the judgment with which Heaven
has gifted me, when I tell you, that if ever you would
brook the Scottish crown, nay, more, if ever you would
see another Saint Valentine's Day, you lmust- - "
" What is it that I must do, Ramorny?"-said the
Prince, with an air of dignity;' nothing unworthy of
myself, I hope?"' Nothing, certainly, unxworthy or misbecoming a Prince
of Scotland, if the blood-stained annals of our country
ell the tale truly; but that which may well slhock the
nerves of a prince of mimes and merry-makers."
"; Thou art severe, Sir John Ramorny," said the Duke
of Rothsay, with an air of displeasure; "1 but thou hast
dearly bought a right to censure us by what thou hast lost
n OUr Cause.




256              S, s;. VAT;ENTIf'  S JBAY.' riy Lordc of ( e11thlsay,"  said tle  ni-h,' t"ie tilelrlrgeon Wvho dressedl dis miu tilat'ted slump -told 0  i tn t  t ole
more I felt t1le paiu  his, knife a.nd brantd inflicted, the btte:t~
wvas my chanlce of recoveCry. v    sh lli not t herefM'e'  hesIi
tate to hturtt your r elis, xIile by do -i so I may be atli,
to bring you to a senuse of iwhat is iecessary   fbr yo'ur saetLV.
Your G-race 11ls been the pupil of miLtlliu l folly too longr
you must now assume m      anly  poiiey, or be crushed like a
buttelfly, on the bosom of the flower you are sporting oln.
I'   I       think I klno  yout cast of mnorals, -Sir Jlhn; you
are weary 01of 1r1n3myw tfoily,-the churchlulen call it vice,and lono for a little serious crime.  A namulrder, now, or a
imassacre, wvould enhlance the flavour of dcebauch, as thle
tas;e of the olive gives zest to wine.  Blt imy worst acts
bte but rtierry n-aliet; 1h l1ave no relish for t he bloody trade,
a1( abhor t:o see or Ihear of its being actel even ou the meal -
cot caitiC.  Shot.ld   ever fill the thrirone, I siippose, like
my fatlier before mlae, I must drop n-ly own nanme, candt be
(dlubbed Robert, in honour of tlhe r3ruce —Iwell, and if ift be
so-every Scots lad shlitl have his flagon in one hand and
thle otler around lhis lass's neck, and rnanhooed shall be tried
by kisses and bumpers, not by dirks and dourlaces; and
thley shall write on my grave,' -iHere lies Robert, fourth of
Iris nalme.  Ie  xvon not battles like Robert the Firrst. I[e
rose not fiomln a count to a kin g lilke ERobert the Seconld.   o i
founlded not churches like Robert the Third, but was con-.
tented to live and die King of good fe'llows!  Of' alll  y twvo
cenlturles of alceslors, I wvouldl only nemulate tle faine of
Oid Kimg Coul
XWho had a brown bowl  "'
"   y gracious lord," said Ramorny,'" let me remlind
you, that your joyous revels involve serious ev'1As.  i f I
Ihaad lost this hand in  filhting to attain for your Grace
some inmportant advantaoe over your too powerful eTce1lies,  tfie loss -would never have -rieved me.  lBut to be
reduced from helmetl  and steel-coat, to biggen and gown,
in a niaht-braw l
Whlly, there a-ain  nomw, Sir Joh1-" interrupted the
reckless Prince-" Hioxv canst thou be so unworthy as to
be forever flinging thy bloody hand in my face, as the




ST. V.YAlh'NTIN''E S DAY.            2 57.ghost of Gaskl-all tfhrew his head at Sir William Wvallace?10:etllhink tee, ithou art mnore unreasonable thlan Fadyvon
hlinmself'; fir wigh;lt Wallace had sswept hlis head off in
sormewhlat a hasty humour, wblhereas I  would gladly stick
thy hand on again, were that possible.  And, hark thee,
since that cannot be, I will get thee sluch a substitute as
thle steel hand of the old Knight of Carselogie, with wh]:ich
he streeted his friends, caressed his wife, braved his antagonists, and did all that milght be done by a hand ct
flesh zanld blood, in offence or defence.  Depend on it,
John Ramnorny, we have much that is su'perfluous about
us.  5Man can see with one eye, hear with one ear, touch
with one hanld, smell with one nostril;. and why we should
have two of each, (unless to supply an accidental loss or
injury,) I for one am  at a loss to conceive."  Sir John
Ramlor-ny tur'ned from the Prince with a lovw groan.
" Nay, Sir John," said the Duke, " I am quite seriouls.  You know the truth touching the legend of Steelhiand of Carselogie better than I, since he was yotur own
neiglhbour.  In his time, that curious engine could only
be made in Rome; but I will wager an hundred merks
with you, that, let the Perth armourer have the use of it
for a pattern, Henry of the Wynd will execute as complete an imitation as all the smiths in Rome could accomplish, with all the cardinals to bid a blessing on the work."
" I could venture to accept your wager, my lord,"
answered Ramorny, bitterly, " but there is no time for
foolery.  You have dismissed me from your service, at
command of your uncle?"
6 At command of my father," answered the Prince.
"Upon whom your uncle's commands are imperative,"
eplied Ramorny. "' I am a disgraced man, thrown aside,
as I may now fling away my right hand glove, as a tlling
useless.  Yet my head might help you, though my hand
be gone.  Is your Grace disposed to listen to me for one
w-ord of serious import?-for I am much exhausted, and
feel my force sinking under me."'6 Speak your pleasure," said the Prince; "thy loss
binds me to hear thee; thy bloody stump is a sceptre to
22* / VOL. I




258            ST. VALENTINE'   S DIAY.
control me.  Speak, then, but be merciful in thly strength
of privilege."'6 I will be brief, for mine own sake as well as thine;
indeed I have but little to say.  Dlouglas places himself
immiediately at the head of his vassals.  LHe will assemble, in the name of King Robert, thirty thousand Borderers, whom he will shortly after lead into the interior, to
demand that the Duke of Rothsay receive, or rather restore, his daughter to the rank  and privileges of his
Duchess.  King Robert will yield to any conditions
which may secure peace-What will the Duke do?"
" The Duke of Rothsay loves peace," said the Prince,
haughtily; " but he never feared war. Ere he takes back
yonder proud peat to his table and his bed, at the command
of her father, Douglas must be KIing of Scotland."
" Be it so-but even this is the less pressing peril,
especially as it threatens open violence, for the Douglas
works not in secret."g' What is there which-presses, and keeps us awake at
this late hour? I am a weary man, thou a wounded one, and
the very tapers are blinking, as if tired of our conference."' Tell me, then, who is it that rules this kingdom of
Scotland?" said Ramorny.
" Robert, third of the name,' said the Prince, raising his
bonnet as he spoke; " and long may he sway the sceptre!'"
" True, and amen," answvered Ramorny; " but lwho
sways King Robert, and dictates almost every measure
which the good King pursues?"
" My Lord of Albany, you would say," replied the
Prince. "' Yes, it is true my father is gulided almost entirely by the counsels of his brother; nor can vwe blame
him in our consciences, Sir John Ramorny, for little help
hatll he had from his son.
" Let us help him now, my lord," said Ramorny. "1
am possessor of a dreadful secret-Albany hath been traffickling with me, to join him in taking your Grace's life! He
offers full pardon for the past-high favour for the future."' How, man-my life? I trust, though, thou dost only
nmean my kingdom? It were impious! —he is my fa.thergs




ST. V. LENTINE'S DAY.             259
brother —they sat on the knees of the same father-lay
in the bosom of the same mother —Out on thee, mail
what follies they make thy sick-bed believe!"
s' Believe, indeed!9' said RamornLy.  " It is new to me
to be termed credulous.  But the man through whom
Albany communicated his temptations, is one whom all
will believe, so soon as he hints at mischief —even the
medicaments which are prepared by his hands have a
relish of poison."
" Tush! such a slave would slander a saint," replied
the Prince.  "' Thou art duped for once, Ramorny.
shrewd as thou art.  My uncle of Albany is ambitious,
and would secure for himself and for his house, a larger
portion of power and wealth than he ought in reason to
desire. But to suppose he would dethrone or slay his
brother's son-Fie, Ramorny! put me not to quote the
old saw, that evil doers are evil dreaders-It is your suspicion, not your knowledge, which speaks."
" Your Grace is fatally deluded-I will put it to an
ssue. The Duke of Albany is generally hated for his
greed and covetousness-Your highness is, it may be,
more beloved than-"
Ramorny stopped, the Prince calmly filled up the
blank-," More beloved than I am honoured?  It is so I
wvould have it, Ramorny."
" At least," said Raimorny, " you are more beloved
thlan you are feared, and that is no safe condition for a
prince.  But give me your honour and knightly word
that you will not resent what good service I shall do in
your behalf, and'lend me your signet to engage friends
in your name, and the Duke of Albany shall not assume
authority in this court, till the wasted hand which once
terminated this stump shall be again united to the body,
and acting in obedience to the dictates of my mind."
"s You wvould not venture to dip your hands in royal
blood!9'" said the Prince, sternly.
"; Fie, my lord-at no rate-blood need not be shed;
life may, nay, will, be extinguished of itself.  For wan.
olf trimming it with fresh oil, or screening it from a breath




260           ST. VALENTINE IS DAY.
of wind, the quivering light will die in the socket.  To
suffer a mnan to die is not to kill him."
"True —I had forgot that policy. Well, then, suppose
tny uncle Albany does not continue to live —I think that
must'De the phrase-Who then rules the court of Scotland?"
"' Robert the Third, with consent, advice, and authority of the most mighty David, Duke of Rothsay, Lieutenant of the kingdom, and ALTER EGO; in whose favour,
indeed, the good King, wearied with the fatigues and
troubles of sovereignty, will, I guess, be well disposed to
abdicate.  So long live our brave young monarch, King
David the Third!' ll1e, manu fortis,
Angulis ludebit in hortis. "
"r And our father and predecessor,99 said Rothsay,
"' will he continue to live to pray for us, as our beadsmnan, by whose favour he holds the privilege of laying
his grey hairs in the grave as soon, and no earlier thai'
the course of nature permits?-or must he also encounter
some of those negligences, in consequence of which men
cease to continue to live, and exchange the limits of a
prison, or of a convent resembling one, for the dark and
tranquil cell, where the priests say that the wicked cease
from troubling, and the weary are at rest?"' You speak in jest, my lord," replied Ramorny; " to
harm the good old King were equally unnatural and impolitic."
"' Why shrink from that, man, when thy whole scheme,"'
answered the Prince, in stern displeasure, "1 is one lesson
Df unnatural guilt, mixed with short-sighted ambition?If the King of Scotland can scarcely make head against
his nobles, even now when lhe can hold up before them
an utnsullied and honourable banner, who would follow a
prince that is blackened with the death of an uncle, and
the imprisonment of a father? Why, man, thy policy
were enough to revolt a heathen divan, to say nought of
the council of a Christian nation.-Thou wert my tutor,




ST. VALENTTi2'AYo                261
Ramorny, and perhaps I night justly upbraid thy lessons
and example, for some of the follies which men chide hi
me.  Perhaps, if' it had not been for thee, 1 had not been
standing at midnight in this fool9s guise, (looking at his
dress,) to hear an ambitious profligate propose to me the
murder of an uncle, the dethroning of the best of fathers.
Since it is my fault, as well as thine, that has sunk me so
deep in the gulf of infamy, it were unjust that thou alone
shouldst die for it.  But dare not to renew this theme to
me, on peril of thy life! I will proclaim thee to my father-to Albany-to Scotland —throughout its length and
breadth! As many market crosses as are in the land,
shall have morsels of the traitor's carcass, who dare counsel such horrors to the Heir of Scotland!-Well hope I,
indeed, that the fever of thy wound, and the intoxicating
influence of the cordials which act on thy infirm brain, have
this night operated on thee, rather than any fixed purpose."' In sooth, my lord," said Ramorny, "' if I have said
anything which could so greatly exasperate your Highness, it must have been by excess of zeal, mingled with
imbecility of understanding.  Surely I, of all men, am
least likely to propose ambitious projects with a prospect
of advantage to myself.  Alas! my only future views
must be to exchange lance and saddle for the breviary
and the confessional.  The convent of Lindores must
receive the maimed and impoverished Knight of Ramorny,
who will there have ample leisure to meditate upon the
text,' Put not thy faith in princes.' "
c' It is a goodly purpose," said the Prince; " and we
will not be lacking to promote it.  Our separation, I
thought, would have been but for a time-It must now be
perpetual.  Certainly, after such talk as we have held,
it were meet that we should live asunder.  But the convent of Lindores, or whatever other house receives thee,
shall be richly endowed and highly favoured by us.-And
now, Sir John of Ramorny, sleep-sleep-and forget this
evil-omened conversation, in which the fever of disease
and of wine has rather, I trust, held colloquy, than your
own proper thoughts. —Light to the door. Eviot."




262           S T. vALINTIN' S Dt AY.
A  call from Eviot summoned thle attelndats of the
Prince, who had been sleeping on the stai ease and hall,
exhausted by. the revels of the evening.
" Is there none amongst you sober?" said the Duke of
Rothsay, disgusted by the appearance of his attendants.
" Not a man-not a man," ansvered  the followers,
with a drunlken shout; w" we are none of us traitors to
the Emperor of Merry-malkers."
" And are all of you turned into brutes, then?" said
the Prince.
" In obedience and imitation of your Grace," answered one fellow; " or, if we are a little behind your Highness, one pull at the pitcher will"" Peace, beast!" said the Duke of Rothsay; " are
there none of you sober, I say?"
"Yes, my noble liege," was the answer; "here is one
false brother, Watkins the Englishman."
" Come hither then, Watkins, and aid me with a torch
— give me a cloak, too, and another bonnet, and take
away this trumpery," throwing down his coronet of feathers; I would I could throw off all my follies as easily —
English Wat, attend me alone, and the rest of you end
your revelry, and doff your mumming habits.  The holytide is expended, and the Fast has begun."
Our monarch has, abdicated sooner than usual this
night," said one of the revel rout; but as the Prince gave
no encouragement, such as happened for the time to want
the virtue of sobriety, endeavoured to assume it as well
as they could, and the whole of the late rioters began to
adopt the appearance of a set of decent persons, who,
having been surprised into intoxication, endeavour to disguise their condition by assuming a double portion of
formality of behaviour.  In the interim, the Prince, having made a hasty reform in his dress, was lighted to the
door by the only sober man of the company, but, in his
progress thither, had well nigh stumbled over the sleeping
bulk of the brute Bonthron.
I" How now-is that vile beast in our way once more?"
neo said, in anger and disgust.  C Here, some of you, toss




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.               263
this caitiff into tile horse-trough, that for once in Iris life
lie may be washed clean."
While the train executed his commands, availing themselves of a fountain which was in the outer court, and
while Bonthron underwent a discipline which he was incapable of resisting, otherwise than by some inarticulate
groans and snorts, like those of a dying boar, the Prince
proceeded on his way to his apartments, in a mansion
called the Constable's lodgings, fi-om the lhouse being the
property of the Earls of Errol.  On the way, to divert
his thoughts from  more unpileasing matters, the Prince
asked his companion how he came to be sober, when the
rest of the party had been so much overcome with liquor.
"So please your honour's Grace," replied English Wat,
"c I confess it was very familiar in me to be sober when it
was your Grace's pleasure that your train should be mad
drunk; but in respect they were all Scottishmen but myself, I thought it argued no policy in getting drunken in
their company; seeing that they only endure me even
when we are all sober, and if the wine were uppermost,
I might tell them a piece of my mind, and be paid with
as many stabs as there are skenes in the good company."'" So it is your purpose never to join aly of the revels of our household?"
"' I Tnder favour, yes; unless it be your Grace's pleastire that the residue of your train should remain one day
sober, to admit Will Watkins to get drunk without terror
of his life."
"6 Such occasion -may arrive.- Where dost thou serve,
XWatkins?"
" In the stable, so please you."
c Let our chamberlain bring thee into the household,
as a yeoman of the night-watch.  I like thy favour, and.t is something to have one sober fellow in the house, al-.
thoughll he is only such through the fear of death.  Attend, therefore, near our person, and thou shalt find sobriety a tlhriving virtue.'"
Mean time a load of care and fear added to the distress,f Sir John Ramorny's sick chamber.  His reflections,




26 4          ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
disordered as they were by the opiate, fell into great con
fision when the Prince, in whose presence he had sup
pressed its effect by strong resistance, had left the apartment.  His consciousness, which he had possessed perfectly during tile interview, began to be very much disturbed.  He felt a general sense that he had incurred a
great danger; that he had rendered the Prince his enemy, and that he had betrayed to him a. secret which might
affect his own life.  Inl this state of mind and body, it
was not strange that he should either dream, or else that
his diseased organs should become subject to that species
of phantasmagolia which is excited by the use of opium.
-ie thought that the shade of Queen Annabella stood by
his bedside, and demanded the youth whom she had placed under his charge, simple, virtuous, gay, and innocent.'" Thou hast rendered him reckless, dissolute, and vicious," said the shade of pallid majesty.  Yet I thank
thee, John of Rarnorny, ungrateful to me, false to thy
word, and treacherous to my hopes.  Thy hate shall
counteract the evil which thy friendship has done to him.
And well do I hope, that, now thou art no longer his
counsellor, a bitter penance on earth may purchase my
ill-fated child pardon and acceptance in a better world."
Ramorny stretched out his arms after his benefactress,
and endeavoured to express contrition and excuse; but
the countenance of the apparition became darker and
sterner, till it was no longer that of the late Queen, but
presented the gloomy  and  haughty  aspect of  the
Black Douglas-then the timid and sorrowful face of
King Robert, who seemed to mourn over the approaching
dissolution of his royal house-and then a group of fantastic features, partly hideous, partly ludicrous, which
moped, and chattered, and twisted themselves into unnatural and extravagant forms, as if ridiculing his endeavour
to obain an exact idea of their lineaments.




NOTES TO ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
1. Page 3. This " newest New Town," in case Mr. Croftangry's lucll
brations should outlive its possession of any right to that designation, was
oegun, I think, in 1824, on the park and gardens attached to a quondam
pretty suburban residence of the Earls of Moray-from whose different titles,
and so forth, the names of the places and streets erected were, of course,
taken. Aug. 1831.
2. Page 4. The visit of George IV. to Scotland, in August 1822, will not
soon be forgotten. It satisfied many who had shared Dr. Johnson's doubts
on the subject, that the old feelings of loyalty, in spite of all the derision of
modern wits, continued firmly rooted, and might be appealed to with confidence, even under circumstances apparently the most unfavourable. Who
that had observed the state of public feeling with respect to this most amiable
prince's domestic position at a period but a few months earlier, would have
believed that he should ever witness such scenes of enthusiastic and rapturous
devotion to his person, as filled up the whole panorama of his fifteen days at
Edinburgh? Aug. 1831.
3. Page 15. Such is the author's opinion, founded perhaps on feelings of
national pride, of the relative claims of' the classical river and the Scottish
onre. Should he ever again be a blotter of paper, he hopes to be able to speak
on this subject the surer language of personal conviction. Aug. 1831.
4. Page 17. VIEW  FROM THE WICxs OF BAIGLIr. —The following
note is supplied by a distinguished local antiquary.
" The modern methoed of conducting the highways through the valleys and
along the bases, instead of over the tops of the mountains, as in the days when
Chrystal Croftangry travelled, has deprived the stranger of two very striking
points of view on the road from Edinburgh to Perth. The first of these presented itself at the summit of one of the Ochills; and the second, which was,
in fact, but a nearer view of a portion of the first, was enjoyed on attaining
the western shoulder of the hill of Moredun, or Moncreiff.  This view fromn
Moncreiff(that which, it is said, made the Romans exclaim that they had
found another field of Mars on the bank of another Tiber) now opens to the
traveller in a less abrupt and striking manner than formerly, but it still retains
many of those features which Pennant has so warmly eulogized. The view
from the Ochills has been less fortunate, for the road here winds through a
narrow but romantic valley amongst these eminences, and the passing stranger
is ushered into Strathern, without an opportunity being offered to him of surveying the magnificent scene which in days of no ancient date every travel. er
from the South had spread out before him at the Wicks of Baiglie.
" But in seeking out this spot-and it will repay the toil of the ascent a
thousandfold-the admirer of such scenes should not confine his researches to
the Wicks of Baiglie, strictly so called, but extend them westward until lie
gain the old road from Kinross to the Church of Drone, being that by which
23   voL. I.




266                          NOTES TO
Mr. Croftangry must have journeyed. The point cannot be- mistaken s; i:s the only one from which Perth itself is visible.'To this station, for reasons
that the critic- will duly applreiate, might with great propriety be applied the
language of one of the gLuides at Dunkecd, on reaching a bold pr.ojecting
rock on Craig Vinean-' Ah:,. sirs, this is the derisivc point.t  
The pencil of Mr. D. O. Hill has been; emphlyed to give this celebrated
view from: the Wictks of Baiglil as ohe of the illustratiois of thfiis'ogdunm1e.
5. Page 18. Chrystal Croftangry expresses here the feelings of the au
thor, as nearly as he could recall them, after such a lapse of years. I am,
however, informed, by various letters from Perthshire. that I have made some
]itthle mistakes about names. Sure enough the general effect of the valley of
the Tay, and the ancient town of Perth, rearing its grey head among the
rich pastures, and beside the gleaming waters of that noblest of Scottish
streams must remain so as to justify warnler language than Mr. Croftangry
had at hIs command. Aug. 1831.
6f. Page 19. David IT., after the death of his Queen Jane, married his
mistress. "ane lusty woman, Catharine Logie," and though he soon repented,
and would fain have repudiated her, the Pope interesting himself in her favour, he found himself bound. As to the next generation, Boece tells us that,
" After King Robert (II.) marryit the Earl of Rossis dochter, he had Elizabeth Mure (of Rowallan) in place of his wife.  In the thrid year of King
Robert, deceasit Eaphame his Queen; and he incontinent marryit Elizabeth,
lemman afore rehearsit, for the affection that iue had to her bairnis." —BELLENDEN, Vol. i. p. 452.
Robert III. himself was a son of Elizabeth Mure.
7. Page 31. Sir Magnus Redman, sometime Governor of Berwick, fell
in one of the battles on the Border which followed on the treason of the Earl
of March, alluded to hereafter.
8. Page 32. Burn-the-wind, an old cant term for blacksmith, appears in
Burns" Then Burnewin came on like death,
At every chaup," &c.
9;. Page 35. Cateran, or robber, the usual designation of the Celtic bord'erers on the lands of the Sassenach.  The beautiful Lake of the Trosachs
is supposed to have taken its name from the habits of its frequenters.
10. Page 35.  Skene-occle, i. e, knife of the armpit-the Highlanders'
stiletto.
1'. Page 37.  RoBERT  BLRVcE.. —The story of Bruce, when in sore
straits, watching a spider near his bed, as it snade repeated unsuccessful
efforts to attach its thread, but, still persevering, at last attained the object,
and drawing from this an augury whi.eh encouraged him to proceed in spite
of fortune's hard usage, is familiar to the reader of Barbour. It was ever
after held a foul crime in any of the name of Bruce, or inheriting Gentle King
Robert's blood, to injure an insect of this tribe; but indeed it is well known
that compassion towards the weak formed part of his character through life;
and the beautiful incident of his stopping his army when on the march in circumstances of pressing difficulty in the Ulster campaign, because a poor
lavendere (washerwoman) was taken with the pains of childbirth, and must
have been left, had he proceeded, to the mercy of the Irish Kernes, is only
one of many anecdotes, that to this day keep up a peculiar tenderness, as
well as pride of feelineg, in the general recollection of this great man, now
ybe hundred years mingled with the dust.




ST. YALENTINE S DAY.                           267
12. Page 41. The g-ir'dle is tslhe'{hin plate of iron used forthe manufacture
bf thle staple luxury of Scotland, thJe oaten cake. The town of CGlrsoss was
long celebrated for its girdles.
13. Page 43. Men wearing jacks, or armour.
14. Page 46.  This word has been one of' the torments of the lexicographers.  Tihere is no doubt that in Perthshire, and xvherever the 4igli-anders and the Lowlanders bordered on each other, it was a conrnson lterm
whereby,. whether in scorn or honour, the Gaelic race used to be designated.
Whether the etymnon be, as Celtic scholars say, Gluineamasch —i. e. the Gartere d-(and certainly the garter has always been a marking feature in " the
Garb of old Gaul")-or, as Dr. Jamieson seems to insinuate, the word oririnally means black cattle, and had been contemptuously applied by the Sassenach to the herdsman, as on an intellectual level with his herd-I shall not
pretend to say, more than that adlozc subjudice is est.
15. Page 47. A principal street in Pertn.
16. Pag'e 53. The two followian  notes are furnished by a gentleman well
versed in the antiquities of bonny St. Johnston:"' Some confusion occasionally occurs in the historical records of Perth,
from. there hlavin  been two higlh or principal streets in that city: the North
High Street, still called the High Street, and the South High Street, now
known only as the South Street, or Shoegate. Al iniistaiice of this occurs in
the evidtence s.f oine of the witinesses osi the Gowrie Conlspiracie, who deponed
that the Earl of Gowrie ran in fromn' te High1 Street  whereas the Earl's
house stood in that part of the town now kniown as the South Street. This
circumstance will explain how the Smith had to pass St. Ann's Chapel and
St. John's Church on his way from  the High Street to Curfew Row, which
edtlifices,he wouldl not have approached if h-is morninlo' walk had been taken
through the more northerly of tie two principal streets."
i7. Page 53. " Curfew Street, or Row, must, at a period not much earlier
than that of the story, have formed part of the suburbs of Perth. It was the
Wynd or Row immediately surrounding the Castle Yard, and had probably
been built, in part at least, soon after the Castle was rased, and its nioat filled
up, by Robert Bruce. There is every probability that in the days of Robert
the Third, it was of greater extent than at present,-the Castle Gable, which
now terminates it to the eastward, having then run iii a line with the Skinnergate, as the ruins of some walls still bear witness. The shops, as well as the
houses of the Glovers, were then, as the name implies, chiefly in the Skiltnergate; but the charters in possession of the incorporation show that the members had considerable property ii or adjacent to the Curfew Row, consisting
not only of fields and gardens, but of dwelling-llouses.
"In the wall of the corner house of the Curfew Row, adjacent to Blackfriar's Vennel, there is still to be seen a niche in the wall where the Curfew
bell hung.  This house fbrmed at one timne a part of a chapel dedicated to
Saint Bartholomew, and in it at no very distant period the mierbers of the
Glover incorporation held their mcetinlgs."
18. Page 62.  A place called vulgarly Ecclesmagirdie (Ecclesia Maz
girdi) not far from Perth, still preserves the memory of this old Gaelic saint
rons utter Lettie.
19. Page 69. There is a tradition that one Keddie, a tailor, found in ancient days a rin,, possessing the properties of that of Gyges, in a cavern of
the romantic hilh of Kiiinoul, near Perth.




2 683                         NO'rF.S  Tr)
20. Page 78. THRE GLOVE:S.-mOur local antiquary says,  The Perth
artisans of this craft were of great repute, and numbered amongst tnem, firom
% very early period, men of considerable substance. There are still extant
itmong their records many charters and grants of money and lands to various
religious purposes, in particular to the upholding of the altar of St. Bartholomew, one of the richest of the many shrines within the parish church of St.
John.
" While alluding to these evidences of the rich possessions of the old
Glovers of Perth, it ought not to pass unnoticed-as Henry pinched Simon
on the subject of his rival artificers in leather, the cordwainers-that the chaplain' aikers of St. Crispin,' on the Leonardhall property, were afterwards
bought up by the Glovers.
"Tl'he avocations of this incorporation were not always of a peaceful nature.'1'hey still show a banner under which their forefathers fought in the
troubles of the 17th century. It bears this inscription.' Thiepeifect honoure
of a craft, or beauty of a trade, is not in wealthe but in mo7ral worth, whereby
virtue gains renowvne:' and surmounted by the words,' Grace and Peace,'
the date 1604.
" Th'e only other relic in the archives cf this body which calls for notice in
this place, is a leathern lash, called' The whip of St. Bartholomew,' which
the craft are often admonished in the records to apply to tile back of refractory apprentices.  It cannot have existed in the days of our friend the Glover.
otherwise its frequent application to thle shoulders of Conacl-ar, woull have
been matter of record in the history of that family."
21. Page 90. Tle well-known cognizance of the house of Douglas.
22. Page 94. Horse and hattock, the well-known cry of tile fairies a
mounting fbr a moonlight expedition, came to be familiarly adopted on any
occasion of mounting.
23. Page 99. It is generallyvbelieved that the ancient Barons of Kinfauns are now represented in tle male line by a once powerful branch of the
name, tile Charterises of Amisfield, in Dumnfries-shire.'T'he remains of the
castle, close to which is their modern residence, attest the former extent of
their resources.
24. Page 100. The following is extracted from a kind communication of
the well-known antiquary, Mr. Morrison of Perth --
"' The port at which the deputation for Kinfauns must have met, was a
stronlgly fortified gale at the east end of the High Street, opening to the
Bridge.  On the north side of tile street adjoining the gate, stood the chapel
of the Virgin, fi-om which the monks huad access to the river by a flight of'
steps, still called' Our Lady's Stairs.'  Some remiains of this chapel are yet
extant, and one of the towvers is in a style of architecture which most antiquaries consider peculiar to the agre of Robert Ill.  Imlmediately opposite'.
on the south side of the street, a staircase is still to be seen, evidently of great
antiquity, whlich is said to have formed part of' Gowlrie's Palace.' 13ut as
Gowrie House stood at the other end of the XWVatergate-as most of the
houses of the nobility were situated bet ieen the staircase we now refer to and
Gowrie House; and as, singtlaily enough, this stair is built upon ground,
which, althoughi ill the mniddle of the town, is not "withill thie burgh lanlds, some
of the local aiitiquaries do not hesit.ate to say, that it formed part of the Royal
Palace, in which thle Kings of Scotlaiid resided. uiiil they fountd more se.
cluded, and probably more comnfbrttable, lodlging in the Blackfriar's Monaslery.  Leaving the determination of this question to those who have more
leisure for solving it, thus far is certain, that thle* place of rendezvous for the
hero of the tale and his companions was oiie of some consequence in the town.
where their bearing was not likely to pass uniobserved. The bridge to wvhich'they passed through the gate, was a very stately edifice.  AMajor calls it




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.                         269'Pontem Sancti Joannis ingentem  apud Perth.' The date of its erection is
iot known, but it was extensively repaired hy Bobert Bruce, in whose reign
it suffered by the repeated sieges to which Perth was subjected as well as gy
some of those inundations of the'Tay to which it was frequently exposed, and
one of which eventually swept it away in 1621."
25. Page 104. "Peace or war, I care not."
26. Page 106. Every Scotchman must regret that the name of Johnstone
should have disappeared from the peerage, alnd hope that ere long some one
of the many claimants for the minor honours at least of the house of Annandale may make out a case to the satisfaction of the House of Lords. The
great estates of the family are still nearly entire, and in worthy hands.-they
have passed to a younger branch of the noble house of Hopetoun, one of the
claimants of the elder titles.
27. Page 121. Thlis creation, and that of the Dukedom of Albany, in
favour of the King's brother, were the first instances of ducal rank in Scotland. Buchanan mentions the innovation in terms which may be considered
as showing that even he partook in the general prejudice with which that title
was viewed in Scotland (town to a much later period. It had, indeed, [ een
in almost every case united with heavy misfortunes —not rarely with tragic
crimes.
28. Page 127. T1hi.ger, and sominers, i. e. sturdy beggars, the former,
however, being, as the word implies, more civil than the latter.
29. Page 128. The Galilee of a Catholic Cathedral is a small side chapel
to which excommunicated persons have access, though they must not enter
the body of the church.  Mr. Surtees suggests that the name of the place
thius appropriated to the consolation of miserable penitents, was derived from
the text:. " Ite, nunciate fratribus meis ut eant in Galileam: ibi me videbunt."
Matthl. xxviii. 10. See Hlistory of Durltanm, vol. i. p. lvi.. Criminals claiming
sanctuary, were, for obvious reasons, accustomed to place themselves in this
part of the edifice.
30. Page 135. The men of the Isle of Bute were called Brandanes;
from what derivation is not quite certain. though the strollng probability lies with
Dr. Leyden, who deduces the name from the Patron Saint of the islands ill
the Frith of Clyde-viz. St. Brandin. The territory of' Bute was the Kinig's
own patrimony, and its natives his personal followers. The noble family of
Bute, to whom the island now belongs, are anl ancient illegitimate branch of
the Royal house.
31. Page 137. The complaint of the monks of Arbroath about the too
great honour the Earl of Douglas had paid them in becoming their guest with
a train of a thousand men, passedl into a proverb, and was never forgotten
when the old Scots churchmen railed at the nobility, who, in the sequel, demolished the church, out of that earniest yearniiing they had long felt for her
goods.
32. Page 139. This lay has been set to beautiful music by a lady wh-loe
comrposition, to say nothing of her sinfillg, nmilit make any poet proud of his
verses, Mrs. Robert Arkwright, born'Miss Kelmble.
33. Page 177.  Mr. Chrystal Croftangry had not, it must be confessed,
vhen he indited this sentence, exactly recollected the character of Rothlsay.,rs given by the Prior of Lochleven.'~ A seemly person in stature,
Ctnnandc into letterature."
13. ix. cap. 23.




270            NOTES TO ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
34..Page 181. The castle of Dunbar.
35. Page 226. The extent to which the science of poisoning.was carried
a the mid(dle ages on tle continent, is well known. The hatefulpractice was
inore and more refined, and still more generally adopted, afterwards; and we
are told, among other instances of diabolical cunning, of gloves which could
not be put on without inflicting a mortal disease, of letters which, on being
opened, diffused a fatal vapour, &c.'c.  Voltaire justly and candidly mentions it as a distinguishin. csharacteristic of the Britlsh, that political poisonintgs make little, iT any, igure in their history.
36. Page 228. Fastern's E'en, the evening before the commencement
of the fast,-Ansglice-NShrove-tide, the soason of being shriven, or of confession and absolution, before beginning the penance of Lent. l'he cockfights, &c.. still held at this period, are relics of the Catholic carnival that
preceded the weeks of abstinence.
37. Page 239. The twelve peers of Charlemagne, immortal in romance.
38. Page 247. The Scottish Statute Book affords abundant evidence of
the extravagant and often fatal frolics practised among our ancestors under
the personages elected to fill the high offices of QsZene of May, Prince of
Yule (Christmas), Abbott of Unreason, &c. &c., corresponding to the Boy
Bishop of England and the French AbbM de Liesse, or Alas Letitice.
Shrovetideiwas not less distinguished by such mumming dignitaries.
39. Page 249. The Massamore, or Meassy More, the principal dungcon
of the feudal castle, is supposed to have derived its namne from our intercourse
with the Eastern nations at the time of the Crusades. Dr. Janmieson quotes
an old Latin Ititnerary: " Proximus est career subterraneus, sive, ult iAlauri
appellant, A2lazmorra."
40. Page 256. The passage referred to is perhaps the most poetica one
in Blind I{arry's Wallace. Book v., v. 180 —.20.
END OF VOLUME I












C I I             I  C L E S
OF
KC V                       N 0 A G A' I r Ev
SECOND  SE I.ES 
SAINT  VA. LENT           TNE'S  DAi   o
IN TWO  VOLUMES.
PAP KER'3S Ei)7iTJSON,
E~VI.SED AND COlIRRECT.ED  A-I'WII A GENERIAL PRI[EFA,-PCE} ~
INTRODUCTION  TO F;ACIT NOVEL, AND NOTES;
XIISTORICAI AND) ILTLUSTRATIVEI BY
THE AUTHOR.








CHRONICLES
OF
THE CANONGATE.
CHAPTER I.
A purple land, where law secures not life.
BYROx.
THE morning of Ash Wednesday arose pale and bleak
as usual at this season in Scotland, where the worst and
most inclement weather often occurs in the early spring
months.  It was a severe day of' frost, and the citizens
had to sleep away the consequences of the preceding
holiday's debaucllery.  The sun had therefore risen for
an hour above the horizon, before there was any general
appearance of life among the inhlabitants of Perth, so
that it was some time after daybreak, whlen a citizen,
going early to mass, saw the body of thie lulckless O1Bver
Proud(-lute lying on its face, across the kennel, in tlhe
nmaner in which le lhad fallen, under the blow,  as our
readers will easily imagine, of Anitony Bonthron, the
" boy of the belt," that is, the executioner of the pleasure, of John of Rtamorny.
This early citizen was Allan Griffln, so ternmed because
lie was master of the Griffin inn; and the alarm which
he raised soon briougllt together, first straggling neighbours, and by and by a concourse of citizens.  At first,
fioml tle circumstanlle of the well-klnownl bhtiLtco-:t an-d
the crimson father in the head-piece, the noise arose
that it was the stout Smith that lay there slair.' t:h}Iis
false rumour continued for sonme time; for the host of' tie




4             ST. VALNT 7iI'N r S D A Y,
Griffin, who himself had been a magistrate, would not
permit the body to be touched or stirred till Bailie Craigdallie arrived, so that the face was not seen.
" This concerns the Fair City, my friends,"' he said;
" and if it is the stout Smith of the Wynd who lies here,
the man lives not in Perth, who will not risk land and life
to avenge him.  Look you, the villains have struck him
down behind his back, for there is not a man within ten
Scotch miles of Perth, gentle or semnple, Highland or
Lowland. that would hlave met him face to face with sulclh
evil purpose.  Oh, brave men of Perth! the flower of
your manhlood has been cut down, and that bJy a base and
treacherous hand!"
A wild cry of fury arose from the people, who were
filst assembling.
-" We will take him on our shoulders,' said a strong
butcher; " we will carry himn to the King's presence at
the Dominican Convent."
C" Ay, ay," answered a blacksmith, "' neither bolt nor
bar shall keep us from the King; neither monk nor mass
shall break our purpose.  A better armourer never laid
hammer on anvil!"
" To the Dominicans! to the Dominicans!'t shouted
the assembled people.
" Bethink you, burghers," said another citizen, " our
King is a good King, and loves us like his children.  It
is die Douglas and the Duke of Albany, that wll1 not let
good King Robert hear the distresses of his people."
Aie we to be slain in our own streets for the King's
softness of heart?" said the butchers.  " The Bruce did
otherwise.  If the King will not keep us, we will keep
ourselves. Ring the bells backward, every bell of them
that is matde of metal.  Cry, and spare not, St. Johnston's hunt is up!1"l'6 Ay," cled another citizen, "' and let us to the holds
of Albany and the Douglas, and burn them to the ground.
Let the fires tell far and near, that Perth knew how to
avenge her stout Henry Gow! He has fought a score of
times for the Fair City's right —let us show we call fight




S'T'. TA LNTNL,,T In E   D A        5
once to avenge his wrong.  Hallo! ho! brave citizens
St. Johnston's hunt is up!"9
This cry, the well-known rallying word amongst the
inhabitants of Perth, and seldom heard but on occasions
of general uproar, was echoed fiom voice to voice; and
one or two neighbouring steeples, of which the enraged
citizens possessel  themselves, either by consent of tlhe
priests, or in spite of their opposition, began to ring out
the ominous alarm notes, in which, as the ordinary succession of the chinmes were reversed, the bells were said
to be rung backward.
Still, as the crowd thickened, and the roar waxed more
universal and louder, Allan Griffin, a burly man, with a
deep voice, and well respected among high and low, kept
his station as he bestrode the corpse, and called loudly
to the multitude to keep back, and wait the arrival of the
magistrates.
W We must proceed by order in this matter, my masters; we must have our magistrates at our head.  They
are duly chosen and elected in our town-hall, good men
and true every one; we will not be called rioters, or idle
perturbators of the king's peace.  Stand you still, and
Inake room, for yonder comes Bailie Craigdallie, ay, and
honest Simon Glover, to whom the Fair City is so much
bounden.  Alas, alas, my kind townsmen! his beautifiul
daughter was a bride yesternight-this morning the Fair.Maid of Perth is a widow before she has been a wife!"'
This new theme of sympathy increased the rage and
sorroxv of the crowd the more, as many women now
mingled with them, who echoed back thle alarm  cry to
the men.
6 Ay, ay, St. Johnston's  hunt is up.  For the Fair
Maid of Perth and the brave Henry Gow! Up, up, every
one of you, spare not for your skin-cutting! To tic
stables! to the stables!-when the horse is gone the
man-at-arims is useless-cut off tlhe g-rooins and yeomen
lame, maim, and stab the horses; kill the base squires
1' VOL. II.




6              ST. YVALFT.INS'  DJS AY
and pages.  Let these proud knights meet us on their feet.
if they dare!"'
6'hey dare not, they dare not," answered the mneli;
l their strelgCith is in their horses and armour; an d ye t
tl:e haughty and ungrateful villains have slain a rran whose
skill as anll armouer was never matched in Milatn or Venice.
To arms! to arms, brave burghers! St. Johlnston's  hunt
is up I"
Amid this clamour, the magistrates and. superior class
of inhabitants with difficulty obtained room  to examnine
the body, having with them the town-clerk to take an official protocol, or, as it is still called, a precognition, of the
condition in which it was found.  To these delays the
multitude submitted, with a patience a.nd order which
strongly markled the national character of a people, whose
resentment has alwvays been the more deeply dangerous,
that they will, Sithout relaxing their determination of
vengeance, submit with patience to all delays which are
necessary to ensure its attainment.  The mnultitude, therefore, received their magistrates with a loud cry, in which
the thirst of revenge was announced, together with the
deferential welcome to tle patrons by whose direction they
expected to obtain it in right and legal fashion.
While these accents of welcome still rung above the
crowd, who now filled the whole adj]acent streets, receiving and circulatinr a thousand varying replorts, tle fIthers
of the city caused tlie body to be raised and more closely
examined; when it was instantly l)eceived, and the truth
publicly announced, that not the armourer of the Wynd,
so highly, and according to tie esteemed qualities of the
timre, so justly popular among his fellow-citizens; but,
man of far less general estimation, thoughl not without his
own value in society, lay mnurdered before themn-tlhe
brisk Bonnet-maker, Oliver Proudfute.'The rese-ntment
of the people had so much turned upon tile general opinion,
that their frank and brave champion, Henry Gow, wIas
the slaughtered person, that the contradiction of the report served to cool the general fuiry, although, if poor
Oliver had been recognized at first, there is little doubt




ST. VALENTINEI S DAY.                 7
that the cry of vengeance would have been as unanimous,
though not probably so furious, as in the case of Henry
Wvnd.2   Thie first circulation of the unexpected intelligence even excited a smile among the crowd, so near are
the confines of tile ludicrous to those of the terrible.
"' The murderers have without doubt taken him  for
Henry Smith," said Griffin, "' which must have been a
great comfort to him in the circumstances."
But the arrival of other persons on the scene soon restored its deeply tragic character.
CHAPTER II.
Who's that that rings the bell?-Diahlos, ho!
The town will. rise.Othelo. Act 2. Scene 3.
THE  wild rumours which flew  through the town,
speedily followed by the tolling of the alarm bells, spread
general consternation.  The nobles and knights, with their
followers, gathered in different places of rendezvous,
where a defence could best be maintained; and the alarm
reached the royal residence, where the young Prince was
one of the first to appear to assist, if necessary, in the
defence of the old King. The scene of the preceding
night ran in his recollection; and, remembering the bloodstained figure of Bonthron, he conceived, though indistinctly, that the ruffian's action had been connected with
this uproar.  The subsequent and more interesting discourse with Sir John Ranorny had, however, been of sutch
an impressive nature, as to obliterate all traces of' what he
l]ad vaguely heard of the bloody act of the assassin, excepting a confused recollection that some one or other had been
slain.  It was chiefly on his father's account that he had
assumed arms with his household train, who, clad in bright




a8              R'B` rtaST l. VAlE NT NE S WA,~Y.
armour, and bearing lances in their hanras, made now a
figure very different from  that of the preceding night,
when they appeared as intoxicated bacchanalians.  The
kind old monarch received this mark of filial attachment
with tears of gratitude, and proudly presented his son to
his brother Albany, who entered shortly afterwards.  He
took them each by the hand.
"' Now   are  we  three   Stewxarts," he said, " as
inseparable as the holy Trefoil; and, as they say, the
wearer of that sacred herb mocks at magical delusion, so
we, while we are true to each other, may set malice and
enmity at defiance."
The brother and son kissed the kind hand which pressed theirs, while Robert III. expressed his confidence in
their affection.  The kiss of the youth was, for the time,
sincere; that of the brother was the salute, of the apostate Judas.
In tlle meantimne the bell of St. John's church alarmed,
amongst others, the inhabitants of Curfew Street.  In the
house of Simon Glover, old Dorothy Glover, as she was
called, (for she also took name from the trade she practised, under her master's auspices,) was the first to catch
the sound.  Though somewhat deaf upon ordinary occasions, her ear for bad news was as sharp as a lite's scent
for carrion; for Dorothy, otherwise an industrious, faith11, and even affectionate creature, had that strong appetite
for collecting and retailing sinister intelligence, which is
often to be marked inl the lower classes.  Little accustolled to be listened to, tlhey love tile attention wh1lich a
tragic tale ensures to the bearer, and, enjoy, perhaps, the
teimporary equality to which mnisfbrtune reduces those who
are ordinarily accounted their superiors.  Dorothy l.ad
no sooner possessed }herself of a sliglit packet of tile rumours which were flying  abroad, than she bounced into
her master's bed-room, who had taken the privilege of
age and the holytide to sleep longer than usual.
"; There he lies, honest man!" said Dorothy, half in
a screeching, and lhalf in a wailing tone of sympathy, —
Tlhere he lies; hlls best firiend slain, and lie knowing as




V.      E IT'N!V T  J 1; E Y''S  9;S  A Y
little about it as the babe new born, that kens not life
from death."
" How now!" said the Glover, starting up out of his
bed, —" Whlat is the matter, old woman? is my daughter
well?"
" Old woman!" said Dorothy, who, having her fish
hooked, chose to let him plahy a little.  " I am not so old,"
said she, flouncing out of the room, 6 as to bide in the
place till a man rises from his naked bed-"
And presently she was heard at a distance in the parlour beneath, melodiously singing to the scrubbing of her
own broom.
"6 Dorotlhy-screeclh-owl-cdevil,-say but my daughter
is well!"
"1 I am well, mny father,9" answered the Fair Maid of
Perth, speaking from  her bed-room, " perfectly well;
but what, for Our Lady's sakle, is the matter? The bells
ring backward, and there is shrieking and crying in the
streets."
6' I will presently know the cause.  Here, Conachar,
come speedily and tie my points.-I forgot-the Higllhland loon is far beyond Fortingall.-Patience, daughter,
I will presently bring you news."' Ye need not hurry yourself for that, Simon Glover,"
quoth the obdurate old woman;'' the best and the worst
of it may be tauld befbre you could hobble over your
dloor-stane.  I ken tihe haill story abroad; for, thought 1,
our31 goodinan is so willul, that he'll be for banging out to
the tuilzie, be the cause what it like; and sae I maun e'en
sttir my shanks, and learn the cause of all this, or he will
l:o:e his auld xnose in the midst of it, and may be get it nipt
off before hoe Iknows what for."
" And what is the news, then, old woman?" said the
impatient Glover, still busying himself with the hundred
poinls or latchets which were tile means of attaching the
doublet to the hose.
Dorothy suffered him to proceed in hi-s task, till she
e onljectured it must be nearly accomplished; and foresaw
that, if she told not the seccret her'self,!ler mrast0:r would




10            ST. YAENTJINE S DAY.
be abroad to seek in person for the cause of the disturbancee   She, therefore, hollowed out —" Aweel, aweel,
ye canna say it is mry fault, if' you hlear ill news belbre
you have been at the morning mass.  I would have kept
it friom ye till ye had heard the priest's word; but sirce
you must hear it, you have e'en lost the truest firiend that
ever gave hand to another, and Perth maun mourn for
the bravest burgher that ever took a blade in-hand.";' Harry Smith! Harry Smith!" exclaimed the father
and the daughter at once.
~ Oh, ay, there ye hae it at last,"  said Dorothy;
"' and whase fault was it but your ain?-you made such
a piece of work about his companying with a glee-woman,
as if he had companied with a Jewess?"
Dorothy would have gone on long enough, but her
master exclaimed to his daughter, who was still in her
own apartment, " It is nonsense, Catharine-all the dotage of an old fool.  No such thing has happened.  I
will bring you the true tidings in a moment;" and snatching up his staff, the old man hurried out past Dorothy, and
into tile street, where the throng of people were rushing
towards the High Street.  Dorothy, in the meantime,
kept muttering to herself;, " Thy father is a wise man,
take his ain word for it.   He will come next by some
scathe in the hobbleshow, and- then it will be, Dorotlly,
get the lint, and, Dorothy, spread the plaster; but now
it is nothing but nonsense, and a lie, and impossibility, that
can come out of Dorothy's nouth-lImpossible! Does
auld Simon think that Harry Smith's head was as hard as
his stithy, and a haill clan of Highlilandmen dinging at
him?"
Here she was interrupted by a figure like an angel,
who came wandering by her with wild eye, cheek deadly
pale, hair dishevelled, and an apparent want of consciousness, which terrified the old woman out of her discontented humour.
1" Our Lady bless my bairn," said she  66 Wha.t look
you sae wild for?"




ST. VAIENTINE S DAY.                  1 I' Did you not say some one was dead?" said Cathafine, with a frighlltfiul uncertainty of utterance, as if her
organs of speech and hearing served her but imperfectly
" Dead, hinney! Ay, ay, dead eneugh; ye'l no lhac
hlim to gloom at ony mlair."'G Dead!" repeated Catharine, still with the same uncertainty of voice and manner.   " Dead-slain-and
by  iigllanders?"
"' I'se warrant by Highlanders, — the lawless loons.
Wha is it else that kills maist of the folks about, unless
now and then when tle burgllers take a tirrivie, and kill
ane another, or whiles that thle knights and nobles shed
blood? But l'se uplhauld it's been the H-iighlandmen this
bout.  The man was no in Perth, laird or loon, durst have
faced Henry Smith man to man.  There's been sair odds
against hliml; ye'l1 see tlhat when it's lookled into."
"      Highlanders!" repeated Catharine, as if haunted by
some idea which troubled her senses.'" Hi-glanders
-Oh, Conachar! Conachar!"
" Indeed, and I dlare say you have lighted on thle very
man, Catharine.   They quarrelledc, as you saw, on the
St. Valentine's Even, and had a warstle.   A HIighlandman has a longy mremory for the like of that.  Gie him a
cuff at Martinmas, and ilis cleelk will be tinOging at Whitsunday.   But what could have brought down the langlegecd loons to do their bloocdy xvark witilin burghl?"
6 Woe's Ine, it was I," said C atharine s;  it was I
broughlit thle HIhighlanders dowvn iI that sent for Conachlar
-ay, they have lain in wait-but it as I that brought
them within reaclh of their prey.  But I will see with tmy
own eyes —and thenl-something we will do.  Say to Ilm
father I wvill be back anon."
A' Are ye distraught, lassie?'9 slouted  Dorothy, as
Catharine made past her towvards tlle street door. " You
would not gang into the street with tile hair hanoging down
your blafiets in that guise, and you kenn'd fior the Fair
Miaid of' Perth?-IMass, but she's out in the street, come
o't whllat like, and the auld  Glover will be as lead as if I
could withhold 1her, will she nill she, flyte she fling she




1 2            5R-',T  VA1 FN'1 i<N1B 9S ) AY.-This is a brave morninlg for an Ash —Wedinesday!
VWhat's to be done? If' I were to seelk my master almong
the multitude, I were like to be crushed beneath their
feet, and little moan made for the old wxoman —And am
I to run after Catharine, who ere this is out of sight, and
far lighter of foot than I am?-so I will just down the
gate to Nicol Barber's, and tell him a' about ito"
While the trusty Dorothy was putting her prudent resolve into execution, Catharine ran througth the streets or
Perth in a manner, which at another moment would have
brought on her the attention of every one, who saw her
hurrying on with a reckless impetuosity, wildly and widely
different from the ordinary decency and composure of her
step and manner, and without the plaid, scarf, or mantle,
which "' women of good," of fair character and decent
rank, universally carried around them, when they went
abroad.  But distracted as the people were, every one
inquiring or telling the cause of the tumult, and most recounting it different ways, the negligence of her dress,
and discomposure of her manner, made no impression on
any one; and she was suffered to press forward on the
path she had chosen, without attracting more notice than
the other females, who, stirred by anxious curiosity or
fear, had come out to inquire the cause of an alarm so
general-it miight be to seek for friends, for whose safety
they were interested.
As Catharine passed along, she felt all the wild influence of thle agitating  scene, and it was with difficulty, she
forbore from repeating the cries of lamentation and alarm,
whichl were echoed around her.  In the meantime, she
rushed rapidly on, embarrassed like one in a dream, with
a strange sense of dreadfil calamity, the precise nature ot
which she was unable to derfie, but which implied the
terrible consciousness, that the man iwho loved her so
fondly, whose good qualities she so highly esteemed, and
whoml she now felt to be dearer, than perhaps shoe wotuldt
before halve acknowledged to her own bosom, was nurdered, and most probably by her means.  The connexion betvvixt Henry's supposed death, and the descent of Cona



ST. I'ALENTINE3'S bDA ~                 1j
rihar and his f1ollowers, though adopted by lier in a moment of extremne and engrossilng  elmotion, wvas sufficiently
probable to lave been received for truth, even if her un-.
derwstanding had been at leisure to exannine its credibility.WVithout knowin  what she soulht,  except the general
desire to know tfhe worst of the dreadful report, she hurried forward to the very spot, which of all others, lher feelings of the precedingl day would have induced hier to avoid
Whlo wouid, upon the evening of' Shrove-tidel  have
persuaded the proud thea ttimid, the slhy the, rigidly decorous Catlhaiinie Clover, that befre nmass on Ash'Wedcnesdiay, she shouil -rush tlhrough  the street's of' Perth,
making her wvay ainidstc tumult and conftksion, whitbh her
hair unbound, and her dress disarrangedl to seek the house
of that same lover, who, she had reason to believe, had
so grossly and indelicately neglected and afironted her, as
to pursue a low and licentious amour! Yet so it was; and
her eagerness taking, as if by instinct, the road which was
most free, she avoided the l lig' Street, where the pressure was greatest, and reached the wynd by the narrow
lanes on the northern skirt of the town, throughll which
Henry Smith had formerly escorted Louise.  But even
these comparatively lonely passages were now astir with
passengers, so general was the alarm.  Catharine Glover
made her way through them, however, while such as observed her looked on each other, and shook their heads
in sympathy with her distress.  At length, without any
distinct idea of her own purpose, she stood before her
lover's door, and knocked for admittance.
The silence which succeeded the echoing of her hasty
sumlmons increased the alarm, which had induced her to
take this desperate measure.'" Open,-open, Henry!"
she cried. " Open, if you yet live! —Open, if you would
not find Catharine Glover dead upon your threshold!"
As she cried thus franticly, to ears which she was
taught to believe were stopped by death, the lover she
invoked opened the door in person, just in time to prevent
her sinking on the ground. The extremity of hlis ecstatic
2 VOL. II.




14            ST. VALENTINE ZS DiAY.
joy upon an occasion so unexpected, was qualified only
by the wonder which forbade him to believe it real, and
by his alarm at the closed eyes, half-opened and blanched
lips, total absence of complexion, and apparently total
cessation of breathing.
Henry had remained at home, in spite of the general
alarm, which had reached his ears for a considerable time,
fully determined to put himself in the way of no brawls
that lie could avoid; and it was only in compliance with
a summnnons from the Magistrates, which, as a burgher, he
was bound to obey, that, taking his sword and a spare buckler frorn the wall, lhe was about to go forth, for the first time
unwillingly, to pay his service, as his tenure bound him.
" It is hard," he said, " to be put forward in all the
town feuds, when the fighting work is so detestable to
Catharine.  I am sure there are enough of wenches in
Perth, that say to their gallants,' Go out-do your devoir
bravely, and win your lady's grace;' and yet they send
not for their lovers, but for me, who cannot do the duties
of a man to protect a minstrel woman, or of a burgess who
fights for the honour of his town, but this peevish Catharine uses me as if I were a brawler and bordeller!"
Such were the thoughts which occupied his mind, when,
as he opened his door to issue forth, the person dearest to
his thoughts, but whom he certainly least expected to see,
was present to his eyes, and dropped into his arms.
His mixture of surprise, joy, and anxiety, did not deprive him of the presence of mind which the occasion
demanded.  To place Catharine Glover in safety, and
recall her to hlerself, was to be thought of before render.
ing obedience to the sunmmons of the magistrates, however pressingly that had been delivered.  He carried his
lovely burden, as light as a feather, yet more precious
than the same quantity of purest gold, into a small bedchamber wlich had been his mother's.  It was the most
fit for an invalid, as it looked into the garden, and was
separated fron the noise of the tumult.'c Here, Nurse-Nurse  Shoolbred-come  quick —come for death and life-here is one wants thy help!'




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY,                1 5
Up trotted the old dame.  " If it should but prove any
one that will keep thee out of the scufile,"-for she also
had been aroused by the noise,-but what was her astonishment, when, placed in love and reverence on the bed
of her late mistress, and supported by the athletic arms of
her foster son, she saw the apparently lifeless form of the
Fair Maid of Perth.'" Catharine Glover!" she said;
" and, Holy MIother-a dying woman, as it would seem!"
"Not so, old woman," said her foster son; " the dear
heart throbs-the sweet breath comes and returns! Come
thou, that may aid her more meetly than I-bring water
-essences-whatever thy old skill can devise.  Heaven
did not place her in my arms to die, but to live for herself and me!"
With an activity which her age little promised, Nurse
Shoolbred collected the means of restoring animation;
for, like many women of the period, she understood what
was to be done in such cases, nay, possessed a knowledge
of treating wounds of an ordinary description, which the
warlike propensities of her foster son kept in pretty constant exercise.
" Come now," she said, " son Henry, unfold your
arms from  about my patient-though she is worth the
pressing-and set thyhands at freedom to help me with
what I want.-Nay, I will not insist on your quitting her
hand, if you will beat the palm gently, as the fingers unclose their clenched grasp."' I beat her slight beautiful hand!'" said Henry;  "you
were as well bid me beat a glass cup with a fore-hammer,
as tap her fair palm with my horn-hard fingers. —But the
fingers do unfold, and we will find a better way -than beating;" and he applied his lips to the pretty hand, whose
motion indicated returning sensation.  One or two deep
sighs succeeded, and the Fair Maid of Perth opened her
eyes, fixed them on her lover, as he kneeled by the bedside, and again sunk back onl the pillow. As she withdrew
not her hand from her lover's hold or from his grasp, gwe
mrust in charity believe that the return to consciousness
was not so complete as to make her aware that lie abused




16             s'. YAlIEtViN'iNn.'S X) AY.
the advantage, by pressing it alternately  to his lips and
his bosom.  At the sanme time we are compelled to own,
that the blood was colouring in her cheek, and that her
bleathigrl was deep and regular, for a minute or two during this relapse.
Thle noise at the door began now to grow much louder,
and Henry was called for by all his various names, of
Smith, Gow, and Hfal of the Wynd, as lheathens used to
summon their deities by different epithets.  At last, like
Portug-lese Catholics when exhausted with entreatinl,
their saints, the crowd witlout had recourse to vituperative exclamrations.
" Out upon you, Henlry! You are a disgraced man,
mansworn to your burgher-oath, and a traitor to the Fair
City, unless you come instantly forth!"
It would seem that Nurse Shoolbred's applications were
now so far successful, that Catharine's senses were in some
measure restored; for, turning her face more towards
that of her lover, than her former posture permitted, she
let her right hand fall on his shoulder, leaving her left still
in his possession, and seeming slightly to detain him, while
she whispered, " Do not go, Henry-stay with methey will kill thee, these men of blood."
It would seem that this gentle invocation, the result of
finding the lover alive whom she expected to have only
recognised as a corpse, though it was spoken so low as
scarcely to be intelligible, had more effect to keep HIenry
WTynd in his present posture, than the repeated summons
of many voices from without had to bring him down stairs.
M1 M1Tass, townsmen," cried  one hardy citizen to his
companions, "' the saucy Smith but jests with us! Let
us into the house, and bring him out by the lug and the
horn."
"' Take care what you are doing," said a more cautious
assailant.  "1 The man that presses on Henry Gow's retirement may go into his house with sound bones, but will
return with ready-made work for the surgeon. —-But here
comes one has good right to (do otur errand to hihm, and
make the recreau.t hlear reason  il both si1lc of' h;s thead."




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.                 17
T1he person of whom this was spoken was no other than
Sinon G-lover himsel f.fe  had arrive  at l  aalt spiot
w]ler tl[3 null.ctlcky bonnetntmaker's body was tlyi:, j just
in time to discover to his gt reli thi at when   \was
turned witl the face upwards by Bailie Craigdallies orders, the features of tfhe poor braggart Proudiltte were
recognised, when the crowd expected to behold those of
their favourite champion Henry  Smith.   A  laugh, or
something approaclling to one, wvent among those who
remembered how hard Oliver had struggled to obtain the
character of a fightin  man, however foreign to his nature
and disposition, and remarked now, that he had met with
a mode of death much better suited to his pretensions than
to Ilis temper. But this tendency to ill-timed mirth, which
savoured of the rutdeness of the times, was at once hushed
by the voice, and cries, and exclamations of a woman,
who struggled througll the crowd, screaming at the same
time,-'4 Oh, my husband!-my husband!"
Room was made for the sorrower, who was followed
by two or three female friends.  IJaudie Proudfute had
been hlitherto only noticed as a good-looking, black-haired
woman, believed to be dizk/' and disdainlful to those whom
she thoughllt meaner or poorer than herself, and lady and
empress over her late husband, whom she quickly caused
to lower his crest vwhen she chanced to hear him crowving
out of season.  But now, under the influence of powerful
passion, she assumed a far more imposing character.;~ D0 you laughl," she said, "' you unworthy burghers
of Perth, because one of your own citizens has poured
his blood into the kennel?-or do you laugh because the
deadly lot has lighted on my husband? How has he deserved this?-Did he not maintain an honest house by hiis
own industry, and keep a creditable board, where the sicki
had welcome, and the poor had relief? Did he not lend to
those who wanted,-stand by his neighbours as a friend
keep counsel and do justice like a magistrate?", Contemptuos —scorfnfl     of others.
2" VOL. I.




1s8             ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
4' It is true, it is true," answer'ed the assembly; " his
blood is our blood, als mucl  as if it were Ienl'y Gow's."- You speal t-ruth, neiighboutrse" said Bailie Craigdcla
lie; "' and this feud cannot l0o patched up as the formler
was —citizens' blood must not flow unavened down ourt
kennels, as if it were ditchl-water, or we slhall soon see the
broad Tay ciimsoned withl it.   But this blow was never
meant for the poor man on whoin it has unhappily fallen.
Every one knew  what Oliver Proudfilte was, how wide
he would speak, and how  little lie would do.   He has
Henry Smith's buffr-coat, target, and head-piece.  All Ithe
town know them as well as I do; there is no doubt on't.
li-e had the trick, as you know, of trying to irmitate the
Snmithi in most thingsl.   So0ne one, blinld with rage, or
perlaps throughll liquor, has stricken tlle innocent Bonnetmaker, whom no nman eitler bated or feared, or indeed
cared  either much or little ab)out, instead of the stout
Smith, who has twenty feuds upon Iris hands."
"' What then is to be clone, Bailie?" cried th.e mnultittude.
" That, my friends, your magistrates will determine
for you, as we shall instantly niect together whenl Sir
Patrick  Charteris cometh here, whlich mnist be anon.
Meanwhile, let the cllirurgeon Dwvining examine that pool
piece of clay, that lie lmay tell us how lie camne by hnis
hItal death; and then let the corpse be decently swiathed
in a clean shroud, as becomes an honest citizens and pl.ae,
ed before the high altar in the church of St. Jolhi-, tilen
patron of the Fair City.  Cease all clamn-our and noise,
and every defensible man of you, as you would wish wrell
to the Fair Town, keep his weapons in readiness, and be
prepared to assemble on the High Street, at the tolling ol
the common bell from the Town-House, and we will eitlier
revenge the death of our fellow  citizen, or else we sllaltalke such fortune as Heaven will send us.  MINeanwlhile
avoid all quarrelling   with the knights and tlleir followers,
till we know the innocent fioin the guilty.-But wherefore
tarries this knave Smith? He is ready enough in tumults
when his presence is not wanted, and lags he now when
{is presence may serve the Fair City? —What ails him,




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               19
doth any one know? Hath he been upon the friolic lasi
Fastern's Even?"
" Rather lie is sick or sullen, Mhaster Bailie,'" said one
of the city's mairs, or sergeants; " for though lie is within
aoor, as his knaves report, yet he will neither answer to
us nor admit us."
"' So please your worship, Master Bailie," said Simon
Glover, "I will go myself to fetch Henry Smith.  I have
some little difference to make up with him.  And blessed
be Our Lady, who hath so ordered it, that I find him alive,
as a quarter of an hour since I could never have expected!":" Bring the stout Smith to the Council-house," said
the Bailie, as a mounted yeoman pressed through the
crowd, and whispered in his ear,-" Here is a good fellow, who says the knight of Kinfauns is entering the port.'
Such was the occasion of Simon Glover presenting himself at the house of Henry Gow at the period already noticed.
Unrestrained by the considerations of doubt and hesitation which influenced others, he repaired to the parlour;
and having overheard the bustling of Dame Shoolbred, he
took the privilege of intimacy to ascend to the bed-room,
and, with the slight apology of —-- I crave your pardon,
good neighbour," le opened the door, and entered the
apartment, where a singular and unexpected sight awaited
him. At the sound of his voice, May Catharine experienced a revival mnuch speedier than Dame Shoolbred's
restoratives had been able to produce; and the paleness
of her complexion changed into a deep glow of the most
lovely red.  She pushed her lover from her with both her
hands, which, until this minute, her want of consciousness,
or her affection, awakened by the events of the morning,
had well nigh abandoned to his caresses.  Henry Smith,
bashful as we know him, stumbled as he rose up; and
none of the party were without a share of confusion, excepting Dame Shoolbred, who was glad to make some
pretext to turn her back to the others, in order that she
might enjoy a laugh at their expense, which she felt herse1lf utterly unable to restrain, and in which the Glover,




20            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
whose surprise, though great, was of short duraltion, antd
of a joyful character, sincerely joined.
"Now, by good St. John," he said, "I I thought I han
seen a sight this morning that would cure me of laughter,
at least till lent was over; but this would make me curl
my cheek, if I were dying.  Why, here stands honest
Henry Smith, who was lamented as dead and toll'd out
for from every steeple in town, alive, merry, and, as it
seems from his ruddy complexion, as like to live as any
man in Perth.  And here is my precious daughter, that
yesterday would speak of nothing but the wickedness of
the wights that haunt profane sports, and protect gleemaidens-Ay, she who set St. Valentine and St. Cupid
both at defiance, —lere she is, turned a glee-maiden herself, for what I can see! Truly, I am glad to see that you,
my good Dame Shoolbred, who give way to no disorder,
lhave been of this loving Jparty."
" You do me wrong, my dearest father," said Catharine,
as if about to weep.  "6 I came here with far different
expectations than you suppose. I only came becausebecause "
"6 Because you expected to find a dead lover," said
her father,' and you have found a living one, who can
receive the tokens of your retrard, and return them.  Now,
were it not a sin, I could find in my heart to thank Heaven, that thou hast been surprised at last into owning thysell a woman —Simon Glover is not wvorthy to have an
absolute saint for his daughllter. —-Nay, look not so piteously, nor expect condolence friom me! Only I will try
not to look merry, if you will be pleased to stop your
tears, or confess them to be tears of' joy."
" If I were to die for such a confession," said poor
Catharine, " I could not tell what to call them.  Only
believe, dear father, and let Henry -believe, that I would
never have come hither, unless-unless    "' Unless you had thought that Henry could not come
to you," said her father.  " And now, shake hands in
peace and concord, and agree as Valentines should. Yesterday was Shrovetide, Henry-We will hold that thou




ST. VALiENTINE'S DAY.               21
hast confessed thy follies, hast obtained absolution, and
art relieved of all the guilt thou stoodest charged with.'
" Nay, touching that, Father Simon," said the Smith,
6 now that you are cool enough to hear me, I can sweaI
on the Gospels, and I can call my nurse, Dame Shoolbred,
to witness'"
6N Nay, nay," said the Glover, "' but wherefore rake up
differences, which should all be forgotten?"'" Hark ye, Simon!-Simon Glover!" This was now
echoed from beneath.
"True, son Smith," said the Glover seriously, 1" we
have other work in hand.  You and I must to the council instantly.  Catharine shall remain here with Dame
Shoolbred, who will take charge of her till we return 
and then, as the town is in misrule, we two, Harry, will
carry her home, and they will be bold men that cross us."';1 Nay, my dear father," said Catharine, with a smile,
C' now you are taking Oliver Proudfute's office.  That
doughty burgher is tHenry's brother-at-arms."
Her father's countenance grew dark.' You have spoke a stinging word, daughter; but you
know not what lhas hlappened.  Kiss him, Catharine, in
token of forgiveness."
"C Not so,'" said Catharine;' I have done him  too
much grace already.  When he has seen the errant damsel
saIfe home, it will be time enough to claim  his reward."
M ieantime,"' said Henry, " I will claihn, as your host,
wnat you will nlot allow me on other terms."'
He folded the fair maiden in his arms, and was permitted to take the salute which she had refused to bestow.
As they descended the stair together, the old man laid
his hand on the Smith's shoulder, and said, "1 Henry, my
dearest wishes are fulfilled; but it is the pleasure of the
saints that it should be in an hour of difficulty and terror."
" True," said the Smith; "6 but thou knowest, father,
if our riots be frequent at Perth, at least they seldom last
long."'
Then, opening a door whlic  led from the house into
the smithyg' Heres comrades," he cried, " Anton, Cuth



22             ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
bert, Dingwell, and Ringan! Let none of you stir from
the place till I return.  Be as true as the weapons I have
taught you to forge; a French crown and a Scottish
merry-making for you, if you obey my command.  I
leave a mighty treasure in your charge.  Watch the doors
well-let little Jannekin scout up and down the wynd, and
have your arms ready if any one approaches the house.
Open the doors to no man, till Father Glover or I return;
it concerns my life and happiness."
The strong swarthy giants to whom lie spoke, answered,
cc Death to him who attempts it!"
" AMy Catharine is now as safe," said he to her father,
" as if twenty men garrisoned a royal castle in her cause.
We shall pass most quietly to the Council-house by walking throulglh the garden."
He led the way through a little orchard accordingly,
where the birds, whicli had been sheltered and fed during the winter by the good natured artizan, early in the
season as it was, were saluting the precarious smiles of a
February sun, with a few faint and interrupted attempts
at melody.
" Hear these minstrels, father," said the Smith; " I
laughed at them this morning in the bitterness of my heart,
because the little wretches sung, with so much of winter
before them.  But nowv, methinks, I could bear a blithe
chorus, for I have my Valentine as they have theirs; and
whatever ill may lie before me for to-morrow, I am to-day
the happiest man in Perth, city or county, burgh or landwar d."'
"6 Yet I must allay your joy," said the old Glover,
" though, Heaven knows, I share it. —Poor Oliver Proudfute, the inoffensive fool that you and I knew so well, has
been found this morning dead in the streets."
1" Only dead drunk, I trust?" said the Smith; " nay, a
caudle and a dose of matrimonial advice will bring him
to life again."'" No, Henry, no.  He is slain-slain with a battle.
axe, or some such weapon."




ST. VALENTINEB   S DAY.               23'C Impossible!" replied the Smithl; " he was light
footed enobigh, and would not for all Perth have trusted
to his hands, when lie could extricate Ihilnself by his heels."
- 11 No choice was allowed him.  The blow was dealt inl
tile very back of his head; lie rwho struck must have been
a shorter man than himself, arnd used a horseman's battleaxe, or some such weapon, for a Lochaber-axe must have
struck the upper part of his head-But there he lies dead,
brained, I may say, by- a  most fi'hlltful wound."'
"' This is inconceiv1ible," said Henry Wynd.  I' He
was in my houlse at mnidnight in an lorricer's labit; seemed to have been drinking, the. gil net tc excess.  He told
me a tale of having been beset by revellers, and being in
danger; but, alas  you know tle inanm; I deemed it was
a swvaggering fit, as lie sometimes took when he was in
liquor; and, may the Merciful Virgin forgive me! I let
11im  go without comrpany, in wvhich I did him  inhumlan
wrong.  Holy St. John be my witness! I would have
gone wvith any helpless creature; and far more with him
with wlhom I have so often sat at the same board, and
drunken of tle same cup.  Who, of the race of man,
could have thougllt of harming  a creature so simple, and
so unofflending, excepting  by his idle vaunlts!
" Henry, lie wore tly headp)iece, tly buffcoat, J.iy
target-Htow canie he by these?"' WThy, lie demanded the use of them  for the night,
and I was ill at ease, iand well pleased to be rid of his
company; having kept no holiday, and being determIineid
to kee) none, in respect of our mislunderstandirng."
"It is the opinion of Bailie Craigdlallie, and all our
sagest counsellors, that the blow was intended for yourself, and that it becomes you to prosecute the due rengeance of our fellow-citizen, who received the death wallice
was meant for you."
The Smith was for some time silent.  They had nowm
left the garden, and were  valking in a lonely la.ne, by
which they meant to approach the Council-house of the
burgh, without being exposed to observation or idle in.
quiry.




24            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
" You are silent, my son, yet we two have much t-o
speak of," said Sinm-on Glover.  " Bethink thle that tihis
widowed woman Maudlin, if she should see cause to brinu
a charge against any one for the wrong done to her and
her orphan children, must support it by a champion, according to law and custom; for be the murderer who lie
rn.may, we know enough of these followers of the nobles to
be assured, that the party suspected will appeal to the
combat, in derision, perhaps, of those whom they will call
the cowardly burghers.  While we are men with blood in
our veins, this must not be, Henry Wynd."
6 I see where you would draw me, father," answered
Henry, dejectedly; " and St. John knows I have heard a
summons to battle as willingly as war-horse ever heard
the trumpet.  But bethink you, father, how I have lost
Catharine's favour repeatedly, and have been driven well
nigh to despair of ever regaining it, for being, if I may
say so, even too ready a man of my hands.  And here
are all our quarrels made up, and the hopes, that seemed
this morning removed beyond earthly prospect, have become nearer and brighter than ever; and must I, with
the dear one's kiss of forgiveness on my lips, engage in
a new scene of violence, which you are well aware will
give her thle deepest offence?"
G" It is hard for me to advise you, Henry," said Simon;'" but this I must ask you —Have you, or have you not,
reason to think, that this poor unfortunate Oliver has been
mistaken for you?"
" I fear it too much,"g said Henry.  "; He was thought
something like ne, and the poor fool had studied to ape
mny gestures and manner of' walking, nay, the very airs
which I have the trick of wthistling, that he mnight increase
a resemblance which has cost him dear.  I have ill-willers
enough, both in burgh and landward, to owe me a shrewd
turn; and he, I think, could have none such."9' Well, Henry, I cannot say but my daughter will be
off'ended.  She has been much with Father Clelpent, and
has received notions about peace and forgiveness, which
n..eth.ills suit ill with a country where the laws cannot




ST. VALE'NTINE5S DAY.              25
protect us, unless we have spirit to protect ourselves.  II
you determine for the combat, I will do my best to persuade her to look on the matter as the other good womalnhood in the burgh will do; and if you resolve to let the
matter rest-the man who has lost his life for yours remaining unavenged-thle widow and the orphans without
any reparation for the loss of a husband and father —
will then do you the justice to remember, that I, at least,
ought not to think the worse of you for your patience,
since it was adopted for love of my child.  But, Henry,
we must in that case remove ourselves from bonny St.
Jollnston, for here we will be but a disgraced family."
Henry groaned deeply,and was silent for an instant, then
replied, " I would rather be dead than dishonoured, thlough
I should never see hler again! Had it been yester evening, f
would have met the best blade among these men-at-arms as
blithely as ever I danced at a May-pole. But to-day, whlen
she had first as good as said,' Henry Smith, I love thee!'Father Glover, it is very hard.  Yet it is all my own fault!
This poor unhappy Oliver! I ought to have allowed him
the shelter of my roof, when he prayed me in his agony
of fear; or, had I gone with him, I should then have prevented or shared his fate.  Bult I taunted him, ridiculed
him, loaded him with maledictions, though the saints know
they were uttered in idle peevishness of impatience.  I
drove him out from my doors, whom I knew so helpless,
to take the fate which was perhaps intended for me.  I
must avenge him, or be dishonoured forever.  See, fhther
— I have been called a man hard as the steel I work in —
Does burnished steel ever drop tears like these?-Shame
on me that I should shed them!"
"' It is no shame, my dearest son," said Simon;'; thou
art as kind as brave, and I have always known it.  There
is yet a chance for us.  No one may be discovered to
whom suspicion attaches, and where none such is found,
the combat cannot take place.  It is a hard thing to wish
that the innocent blood may not be avenged.  But if the
perpetrator of this foul murder be hidden for the present,
3  TOT, II.




I26           ST. TALENTINE S DAY.
thou wilt be saved from  the task of seeking that venseance which Heaven, doubtless, wvill take at its own
proper time."
As they spoke thus, they arrived at the point of the
HIigh Street where the Council-house was situated.  As
they reached the door, and made their wvay through the
multitude  who  thronged  the  street, they found the
avenues guarded by a select party of armed burghers, and
about fifty spears belonging to the Knight of Kinfauns,
who, with his allies the Grays, Blairs,  toncrieffs, and
others, had brought to Perth a considerable body of horse,
of which these were a part.  So soon as the Glover and
Smith presented themselves, they were admitted to the
chamber in which the magistrates were assembled
C0HAPTER 111.
A woman wails for justice at the gate,
A widow'd woman, wan and desolate.
BERTHA.
TnIE Council-room of Perth presented a singular spectacle.3 In a gloomy apartment, ill and inconveniently
lighted by two windows of different form and of unequal
size, were assembled, around a large oaken table, a group
of men, of whom  those who occupied the higher seats
were merchants, that is, guild brethren, or shop-keepers,
arrayed in decent dresses becoming their station, but most
of them  bearing, like the Regent York, cc signs of war
around their aged necks;" gorgets, namely, and baldricks,
which sustained their weapons.  The lower places around
the table were occupied by mechanics and artizans, the
presidents, or deacons, as they were termed, of the working classes, in their ordinary clothes, somewhat better
arranged than usual.  These too wore pieces of armour
of various descriptions.  Some had the black jack, or
doublet, covered with small plates of iron of a lozenge
shape, which, secured through the upper angle, hung in
rows above each, and which, swaying with thle motion




ST.r     E    INT IE   DAY.         27
Df the wearer's person, formed a secure defence to tihe
body.  Others had buff-coats, which, as already nenationed, could resist the blow  of a sword, and even a
lance's point, unless propelled with great force.  At the
bottom of the table, surrounded as it was with this varied
assembly, sat Sir Louis Lundin  no military man, but a
priest and parson of St. John's, arrayed in his canonical
dress, and having his pen and ink before him.  He was
town-clerk of the burgh, and, like all the priests of the
period, (who were called from  that circumstance the
Pope's knights,) received the honorable title of dominus,
contracted into Dom, or Dan, or translated into SiR, the
title of reverence due to the secular chivalry.
On an elevated seat, at the head of the council board,
was placed Sir Patrick Charteris, in complete armour,
brightly burnished; a singular contrast to the motley
mixture of warlike and peaceful attire exhibited by the
burghers, who were only called to arms occasionally.
The bearing of the Provost, while it completely admitted the intimate connection which mutual interests had
created betwixt himself, the burgh, and the magistracy,
was at the same time calculated to assert the superiority,
which, in virtue of gentle blood and chivalrous rank, the
opinions of the age assigned to him over the members of
the assembly in which he presided.  Twvo squires stood
behind him, one of them  holding the knight's pennon,
and another his shield, bearing his armorial distinctions,
being a hand holding a dagger, or short swvordt, with the
proud motto, Thtis is my charter.  A handsome page
displayed the long sword of his master, and another bore
his lance; all which chivalrous emblems and appurtenances were the more scrupulously exhibited, that the dignitary to whom they belonged was engaged in discharging
the office of a burgh magistrate.  In his own person the
Kinight of Kinfauns appeared to affect something of state
and stiffness, which did not naturally pertain to his franl
and jovial character.
" So, you are come at length, Henry Smith and Simon
Glover," said the Provost.'; Know that you have kepl




28            ST. VA"IEINTIN"a'S ])AY.
uIs waiting for your attendance.  Should it so chanco
again while we occupy this place, we will lay such a fine
Dn you as you will Lhave small pleasure in paying.
Enough-make no excuses.  They are not asked now,
and another time they will Dot be admitted.  Know, sirs.
that our reverend clerk hath taken down in writing, and
at full length, what I will tell you in brief, that you
may see what is to be required of you, Henry Smith, in
particular.  Our late fellow-citizen, Oliver Proudfute,
hath been found dead in the High Street, close by the
entrance into the wynd.  It seemeth he was slain by a
heavy blow with a short axe, dealt from  behind and at
unawares; and the act by which he fell can only be
termed a deed of foul and fore-thought murder.  So
much for the crime.  The criminal can only be indicated by circumstances.  It is recorded in the protocol of
the Reverend Sir Louis Lundin, that divers well-reputed
witnesses saw our deceased citizen, Oliver Proudfute,
till a late period, accompanying the Entry of the morricedancers,4of whom he was one, as far as the house of
Simon Glover, in Curfew Street, where they again played their pageant.  It is also manifested, that at this place
he separated from the rest of the band, after some discourse with Simon Glover, and made an appointment to
meet with the others of his company at the sign of the
Griffin, there to conclude the holiday.-Now, Simon, I
demand of you whether this be truly stated, so far as
you know? and further, what was the purport of the
defunct Oliver Proudfute's discourse with you?"
" MyAy Lord Provost and very worshipfulf Sir Patrick,"
answered Simon Glover,'c you and this honourable
council shall know, that, touching certain reports which
hlad been made of the conduct of Henry Smith, some
quarrel had arisen between myself and another of my
family, and the said Smith here present.  Now, this out
poor fellow-citizen, Oliver Proudfute, having been active
in spreading these reports, as indeed his element lay iih
such gossipredl, some words passed betwixt him and mne
on the subject; and, as I think, lie left me with the our




IST. YAIEiNTINE S  Ix-Y.            23
pose of visiting Henry Smith, for hle broke off from tne
morrice-dancers, promising, as it seems, to meet themn
as your honour has said, at the sign of the Griffin, in order to conclude the evening.  But what he actually did,
I know not, as I never again saw him in life."
" It is enough,'" said Sir Patrick, 1" and agrees with ali
that we have heard.-NowT, worthy sirs, we next find
oar poor fellow-citizen environed by a set of revellers
and maskers, who had assembled in the High Street, by
whom he was shamefully ill treated, being compelled to
kneel down in the street, and there to quaff huge quantities of liquor against his inclination, until at length he
escaped from  them  by flight.  This violence was acconmplished with drawn swords, loud shouts, and imprecations, so as to attract the attention of several persons,
who, alarmed by the tumult, looked out from their windows, as well as of one or two passengers, who, keeping
aloof from the light of the torches, lest they also had been
maltreated, beheld the usage which our fellow-citizen received in the High Street of the burgh.  And although
these revellers were disguised, and used vizards. yet their
disguises were well known, being a set of quaint maskmng habits, prepared some weeks ago ny command of
Sir John Ramorny, Maaster of the Horse to his Royal
Highness the Duke of Rothsay, Prince Royal of Scotland."
A low groan went through the assembly.
6; Yes; so it is, brave burghers," continued Sir Patrick;
4; our inquiries have led us into conclusions both melanclholy and terrible.  But as no one can regret the point
at which they seem likely to arrive more than I do, so no
man living can dread its consequences less.  It is even
so-various artizans employed upon the articles, have
described the dresses prepared for Sir John Ramorny's
mask as being exactly similar to those of the men by
whom  Oliver Proudfute wvas observed to be maltreated.
And one mechanic, being Wingfield the feather-dresser,
who saw the revellers when they had our fellow-citize!
VOL. II.




230            STo VALTENTINEIS DA I.
within their hands, remarked that they wore the cinctures and coronals of painted feathers, which  lie himself
bad made by the order of the Prince's Master of the
I.orse.' After the moment of his escape from  these reve'lers
we lose all trace of Oliver; but we can prove that the
maskers went to Sir John Ramorny's, where they w-ere
admitted, after some show of delay.  It is rumoured, that
thou, Henry Smith, sawest our unhappy fellow-citizen
after he had been in the hands of these revellers-What
is the truth of that matter?"
1" He came to my house in the wynd," said Henry,
6 about half an hour before midnight; and I admitted
him, something unwillingly, as he had been keeping carnival while I remained at home; and there is ill talk, says
the proverb, betwixt a full man and a fasting."' And in which plight seemed he when thou didst
admit him?"' said the Provost.' He seemed," answered the Smith, 6" out of breath,
and talked repeatedly of having been endangered by revellers.  I paid but small regard, for he was ever a timorous, ehicken-spirited, though  well-meaning man, and I
held that he was speaking more from  fancy than reality.
But I shall always account it for foul offence in myself,
that I did not give him my company, which he requested 
and if I live, I xvill found masses for his soul in expiation
of my guilt."
"G Did he describe those firom whom he received the
injury?" said the Provost.
"Revellers in masking habits," replied Henry.
6 And did lie intimate his fear of having to do with
them on his return?" again demanded Sir Patrick.' He alluded particularly to his being way-laid, which
( treated as visionary, having been able to see no one iv
the lane."
"1 Had he then no help from thee, of any kind whatsoever?" said the Provost.
" Yes, worshipful,'" replied the Smith;   " he exchanged
bis morrice dress for my head-piece, buff-coat, and target,




ST. VALENTINE'NS DAY.               Ji
vwhichl  I hear were found upoln his body; and I have at
borne his morrice-cap and bells, with the jerkin and otlner
things pertaining.    -1He was to return my garb of fence,
and get back his own masking suit this day, had tile saints
so permitted."
G' You saw him not then afterwards?"
LN Never, my lord.5'
L' One word more,9'  said the Provost.  "' Have you
any reason to think that the blow wvhich slew Oliver
Proudflte was meant for another man?1'' I have," answered the Smith; " but it is doubtfini,
and may be dangerous to add such a conjecture, whicl
is besides only a supposition."
" Speak it out, on your burgher faith and oath- For
whom, thin-lk you, was thlle blow meant?"9'
" If I must speak," replied Henry,' I believe Oliver
Proudfute received the fate which was designed for myself; the rather that, in his folly, Oliver spoke of trying
to assume my manner of walkilg, as well as my dress."' Have you feud with any one, tlhat you form such an
idea?" said Sir Patrick Charteris.
"' To my shame and sin be it spoken, I have feud
with Highland and Lowland, English and Scot, Perth
and Angus.  I do not believe poor Oliver had feud with
a new-batched chicken.-Alas! lhe was the more fully
prepared for a sudden call!"'" Hark y.e, Smith,"9 said the Provost,-" Answer me
distinctly-Is there cause of feud between the household of Sir John Ramorny and yourself?"' To a certainty, my lord, there is.  It is now generally said, that Black Quentin, who went over Tay f.c
Fife some days since, was the owner of the hand whichl
was found in Couvrefew  Street upon the eve of St.
Valentine.  It was I who struck off that hand with a
blow of my broadsword.  As this Black Quentin was a
chamberlain of Sir John, and much trusted, it is like
there must be feud between me and his master's depend
ents."




32]5          STr. VA-,ENTINEl S DAY.
" It bears a likely front, Smith," said Sir Patrick
Charteris. —'" And now, good brothers and wise magistrates, tlhere are two suppositions, each of which leads
to the same conclusion.  T'he maskers who seized our
fellow-citizen, and misused him  in a manner of which
his body retains some slight marks, may have met with
their former prisoner as he returned homewards, and
finished their ill usage by taking his life.  He himsell
expressed to Henry Gow fears that this would be the
case.  If this be really true, one or more of Sir John
Ranmorny's attendants must have been the assassins. But
I think it more likely that one or two of the revellers
may have remained on the field, or returned to it, having
changed perhaps their disguise, and that to those men
(for Oliver Proudfute, in his own personal appearance,
would only have been a subject of sport) his apparition
in the dress, and assumilillg, as lie proposed to do, the
manner, of Henry Smnith, was matter of deep hatred;
and that seeing him  alone, they had taken, as they
thought, a certain and safe mode to rid themselves of an
enemy so dangerous as all men know Henry Wynd is
accounted by those that are his unfriends.  The same
train of reasoning, again rests the guilt with the household
of Sir John Ramorny.  How think you, sirs? Are we
not free to charoge the crime upon them?"
The Magistrates whispered together for several minutes, and then replied by the voice of Bailie Craigdallie,
-"  Noble Knight, and otur worthy Provost, —we agree
entirely in what your wisdom has spoken concerning this
dark and bloody matter; nor do we doubt your sagacity
in tracing to the fellowship and the company of Jolhn
Ramorny of that Ilk, the villany which hath been done
to our deceased fellow-citizen, whether in his own character and capacity, or as mistaking h im  for our brave
townsman, Henry of the Wynd.  But Sir John, in his
own behalf, and as the Prince's Master of the Horse,
maintains an extensive household; and as of course the
charge will be rebutted by a denial, we would ask, how
we. shall proceed in that case?-It is true, could we find




ST. YA IEtFN'TINE'S DAY.           oo
law for firing tile lodging, and putting all within it to the
sword, the old proverb of I short rede, good rede,' might
here apply; for a fouler household of defiers of God,
destroyers of men, and debauchers of women, are nowhere sheltered than are in Ramorny's band.  But I
doubt that this summary mode of execution would scarce
be borne out by the laws; and no tittle of evidence which
I have heard will tend to fix the crime on any single individual or individuals."
Before the Provost could reply, the Town-Clerk arose,
and stroking his venerable beard, craved permission to
speak, which was instantly granted.  " Brethren," he
said,' as well in our father's time as ours, hath God, on
being rightly appealed to, condescended to make manifest
the crimes of the guilty, and the innocence of those who
may have been rashly accused.  Let us demand fiom
our Sovereign Lord, King Robert, who, when the wicked
do not interfere to pervert his good intentions, is as just
and clement a Prince as our annals can show in their
long line, in the name of the Fair City, and of all the
commons in Scotland, that he give us, after the fashion of
our ancestors, the means of appealing to Heaven for light
upon this dark murder.  We will demand the proof by
bier-right, often granted in the days of our Sovereign's
ancestors, approved of by bulls and decretals, and administered by the great Emperor Charlemagne in France,
by King Arthur in Britain, and by Gregory the Great,
and the mighty Achaius, in this our land of Scotland."
" I have heard of the bier-right, Sir Louis," quoth the
Provost, " and I know we have it in our charters of the
Fair City; but I am something ill-learned in the ancient
laws, and would pray you to inform us more distinctly of
its nature."
" We will demand of the King," said Sir Louis Lundin, " my advice being taken, that the body of our murdiered fellow-citizen be transported into the High Church of
St. John,5 and suitable masses said for the benefit of his
souJ, and for the discovery of his foul murder.  Meanwine (re shall obtain an order that Sir John Ramorny give




34            ~ST. VALENTR.NE ES DA Y.
np a list of such of his household, as were in Perth in the
course of the night between Fastern's Even and this AshWednesday, and become bound to present them on a certain day and hour, to be early named, in the Highp  Church
of St. John;  thlere one by one to pass before the bier
of our murdered fellow-citizen, and in the foirm prescribed to call upon God and his saints to bear witness that he
is innocent of the acting, art or part, of the murder. And
credit me, as fhas been indeed proved by numerous instances, that if the murderer shall endeavour to shroud
himself by making such an appeal, the antipathy which
subsists between the dead body, and the hand which dealt
the fatal blow that divorced it fiom the soul, will awaken
some imperfect life, under the influence of which the
veins of the dead man will pour forth at the fatal wounds
the blood which hlas been so long stagnant in the veins.
Or, to speak more certainly, it is the pleasure of Heaven,
by some hidden agency which we cannot comprehend, to
leave open this mode of discovering the wvickedness of
him who has defaced the image of his Creator."
1" I have heard this law talked of," said Sir Patrick,
"; and it was enforced in the Bruce's time.  This surely
is no unfit period to seek, by such a mystic mode of inquiry, the truth, to which no ordinary means can give us
access, seeing that a general accusation of Sir John's
household would full surely be met by a general denial.
Yet, I must crave farther of Sir Louis, our reverend
town-clerk, how we shall prevent the guilty person from
escaping in the interim?"'C The burghers will maintain a strict watch upon the
wall, draw-bridges shall be raised, and portcullises lowered, from  sunset to sunrise, and strong patrols maintained through the night.  This guard the burghers will
willingly maintain, to secure against the escape of the
murderer of their townsman."'
The rest of the counsellors acquiesced, by word, sign,
and look, in this proposal.




ST. VAL2ENTINE S DAnY.              30
b: Again,"' said tile Provost, 65 what if any one of the
suspected household refuse to submit to the ordeal ol
bier-right?9
I6 He may appeal to that of combat," said the reverend city scribe, "S with an opponent of equal rank; because the accused person must have his choice, in the
appeal to the judgment of God, by what ordeal lie will
be tried.  But if' lie refuses both, he must be held as
guilty, and so punished. "
The sages of the council unanimously agreed with the
opinion of their Provost and Town-Clerk, and resolved,
in all formality, to petition the King, as a matter of right,
that the murder of their fellow-citizen should be inquired
into according to this ancient form, which was held to
manifest the truth, and received as matter of evidence in
case of murder, so late as towards the end of the seventeenth century.  But before the meeting dissolved, Bailie
Craigdallie thought it meet to inquire, who was to be the
champion of Maudie, or Magdalen Proudfute, and her
two children.
1" There need be little inquiry about that," said Sir
Patrick Charteris; " we are men, and wear swords,
which should be broken over the head of any one amongst
us, wlho will not draw it in behalf of the widow and orphans of our murdered fellow-citizen, and in brave revenge
of his death.  If Sir John Ramorny shall personally resent the inquiry, Patrick Charteris of Kinfauns will do
battle with him to the outrance, whilst horse and man may
stand, or spear and blade hold together.  But in case the
challenger be of yeomanly degree, well wot I that Magdalen Proudfute may choose her own champion among
the bravest burghers of Perth, and shame and dishonour
were it to the Fair City for ever, could she light upon one
who were traitor and coward enough to say her nay
Bring her hither, that she may make her election."
Henry Smith heard this with a melancholy anticipation
that the poor woman's choice would light upon him, and
that his recent reconciliation with his mistress would be
atgain dissolved, by his being engaged in a fresh quarrel.




36             ST. VALENTINLE S 1 DA Y.
fromn which there lay no honourable means of escape,
and which, in any other circumstances, he would have
welcomed as a glorious opportunity of distinguishing
himself, both in sight of the court and of the city.  He
was aware that under the tuition of Father Clement,
Catharine viewed the ordeal of battle rather as an insult
to religion, than an appeal to the Deity, and did not consider it as reasonable, that superior strength of arm, or
skill of weapon, should be resorted to as the proof of
moral guilt or innocence.  He had, therefore, much to
fear from her peculiar opinions in this particular, refined
as they were beyond those of the age she lived in.
While he thus suffered under these contending feelings,
Mtagdalen, the widow of the slaughtered man, entered the
court, wrapt in a deep mourning veil, and followed and
supported by five or six women of good, (that is, of respectability,) dressed in the same melancholy attire. One
of her attendants held an infant in her arms, the last pledge
of poor Oliver's nuptial affections.  Another led a little
tottering creature of two years, or thereabouts, which
looked with wonder and fear, sometimes on the black
dress in which they had muffled him, and sometimes on the
scene around him.
The assembly rose to receive the melancholy group,
and saluted them with an expression of the deepest sympathy, which Magdalen, though the mate of poor Oliver,
returned with an air of dignity, which she borrowed, perhaps, firom the extremity of her distress.   Sir Patrick
Charteris then stepped forward, and with the courtesy of
a knight to a female, and of a protector to an oppressed
and injured widow, took the poor woman's hand, and explained to her briefly, by what course the city had resolved to follow out the vengeance due for her husband's
slaughter.
[Having, with a softness and gentleness which did not
belong to his general manner, ascertained that the unfortunate woman perfectly understood what was meant, he
said aloud to the assembly, " Good citizens of Perth,
and free-born lmen of guild and craft, attend to what is




ST. VALENTINE S DAY. B7
about to pass, for it concerns your rights and privileges
Here stands lMagdalen Proudfute, desirous to follow forth
the revenge due for the death of her husband, foully murdered, as she sayeth, by Sir John Ramorny, Knight, of that
Ilk,and wlhicl she offersto prove, by the evidence of bierright, or by the body of a man.  Therefore, I, Patrick
Charteris, being a belted knight and free-born gentleman,
o0ffer myself to do battle in her just quarrel, whilst man
and horse may endure, if any one of my degree shall lift
my glove.-How say you, Magdalen Proudfute, will you
accept me for your champion?"
The widow answered with difficulty,-" I can desire
none nobler."'
Sir Patrick then took her right hand in his, and, kissing
her forehead, for such was the ceremony, said solemnly,
__" So may God and St. John prosper Ine at my need,
as I will do my devoir as your champion, knightly, truly,
and manfully.  Go now, Magdalen, and choose at your
will among the burgesses of the Fair City, present or absent, any one upon whom you desire to rest your challenge,
if he against whom you bring plaint shall prove to be
beneath my degree."
All eyes were turned to Henry Smith, whom the general voice had already pointed out as in every respect the
fittest to act as champion on the occasion.  But the widow
waited not for the general prompting of their looks.  As
soon as Sir Patrick had spoken, she crossed the floor to
the place where, near the bottom of the table, the armourer stood among the men of his degree, and took him
by the hand:
" Henry Gow, or Smith," she said, " good burgher
and craftsman, my-my —"
Husband, she would- have said, but the word would not
come forth; she was obliged to change the expression.'" He who is gone, loved and prized you over all men;
therefore meet it is that thou shouldst follow out the
quarrel of his widow and orphans."
If there had been a possibility, which in that age there
4  VOL. II.




ST. VALENTINE S DBAY.
was not, of Henry's rejecting or escaping from a trust for
which all men seemed to destine him, every wish and idea
of retreat was cut off, when the widow began to address
llimn; and a command from Heaven could hardly have
made a stronger impression than did the appeal of the
unfortunate Magdalen.  Her allusion to his intimacy with
thle deceased moved him to the soul.  During Oliver's!i1e, doubtless, there had been a strain of absurdity in his
excessive predilection for Henry, which, considering how
very different they were in character, had in it something
ludicrous.  But all this was now forgotten, and Henry,
giving way to his natural ardour, only remembered that
Oliver had been his friend and intimnate; a man who had
loved and honoured him as much as he was capable of
entertaining such sentiments for any one; and above all,
that there was much reason to suspect that the deceased
had fallen victim to a blow meant for Henry himself.
It was, therefore, with an alacrity which, the minute
before, he could scarce have commanded, and which
seemed to express a stern pleasure, that, having pressed
his lips to the cold brow of the unhappy Magdalen, the
armourer replied," I, Henry the Smith, dwelling in the Wynd of Perth,
good man and true, and freely born, accept the office ot
champion to this widow Magdalen, and these orphans, and
will do battle in their quarrel to the death, with any man
whomsoever of my own degree, and that so long as I shall
draw breath. So help me at my need God and good St.
John!'"
There rose from the audience a half-suppressed cry,
expressing the interest which the persons present took in
the prosecution of the quarrel, and their confidence in.
the issue.
Sir Patrick Charteris then took measures for repairing
to the King's presence, and' demanding leave to proceed
with inquiry into the murder of Oliver Proudfute, accordcling to the custom  of bier-right, and, if necessary, by
combat.




ST. YALE NTINE  DAY~5                9
He performed this duty after the Town-Council had
dissolved, in a private interview between himself and the
King, who heard of this new trouble with much vexation,
and appointed next morning, after mass, for Sir Patrick
and the parties interested, to attend his pleasure in council.
In the meantime, a royal pursuivant was despatched to
the Constable's lodgings, to call over the roll of Sir John
Ramorny's attendants, and charge him, with his whole
retinue, under high penalties, to abide within Perth, until
the King's pleasure should be farther known.
CHAPTER IV.
In God's name, see the l'sts and all things fit;
There let them end it-God defend the right!
Henry IV. Part 1I.
IN the same Council-room of the conventual palace of
the Dominicans, King Robert was seated with his brother
Albany, whose affected austerity of virtue, and real art
and dissimulation, maintained so high an influence over
the feeble-minded monarch. It was indeed natural, that
one who seldom saw things according to their real forms
and outlines, should view them according to the light in
which they were presented to him by a bold astucious
man, possessing the claim of such near relationship.
Ever anxious on account of his misguided and unfortunate son, the King was now endeavouring to make
Albany coincide in opinion with him, in exculpating Rothsay from any part in the death of the Bonnet-maker, the
precognition concerning which had been left by Sir Patrick Charteris for his Majesty's consideration.
"' This is an unhappy matter, brother Robin," he said,
i' a most unhappy occurrence; and goes nigh to put
strife and quarrel betwixt the nobility and the cominons




410           ST. VATLENTINE'S DAY.
here, as they have been at war together in so mnany distant lands.  I see but one cause of comfort in the matter;
and that is, that Sir John Ramorny having received his
dismissal fiom  thle Duke of Rothsay's family, it cannot
be said that lie or any of his people, who may have done
this bloody deed, (if it has truly been done by them,)
have been encouraged or hounded out upon such an
errand by my poor boy.   I am sure, brother, you and I
can bear witness, how readily, upon my entreaties, he
agreed to dismiss RIamorny from his service, on account
of that brawl in Curfew Street."
" I remember his doing so," said Albany; "' and well
do I hope that the connexion betwixt the Prince and
Ramnorny lias not been renewed since he seemed to
comply with your Grace's wishes."
"1 Seemed to comply?-The connexion renewed?"
said the King; " what mean you by these expressions,
brother? Surely, when David promised to me, that it
that unhappy matter of Curfew Street were but smothered up and concealed, he would part with Ramorny, as
he was a counsellor thought capable of involving him in
similar fooleries, and would acquiesce in our inflicting on
him either exile, or such punishment as it should please
us to impose-surely you cannot doubt that he was sincere in his professions, and would keep his word? Remember you not, that when you advised that a heavy fine
should be levied upon his estate in Fife in lieu of banishment, the Prince himself seemed to say, that exile would
be better for Ramorny, and even for himself?"
" I remember it well, my royal brother.  Nor truly
could I have suspected Ramorny of having so much influence over the Prince, after having been accessary to
placing him in a situation so perilous, had it not been for
my royal kinsman's own confession, alluded to by your
Grace, that, if suffered to remain at court, he might still
continuetoinfluencehis conduct.  I then regretted I had
advised a fine in place of exile.  But that time is passed,
and now new mischief has occurred, fraught with much




ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.              41
peril to your Majesty, as well as to your royal heir, and to
the whole kingdom."
1" What mean you, Robin?" said the weak-minded
King.  " By the tomb of our parents! by the soul of
Bruce, our immortal ancestor! I entreat thee, my dearest brother, to take compassion on me.  Tell me what
evil threatens my son, or my kingdom?"
The features of the King, trembling with anxiety, and
his eyes brimful of tears, were bent upon his brother, who
seemed to assume time for consideration ere he replied.' AfMy lord, the danger lies here. Your Grace believes
that the Prince had no accession to this second aggression
upon the citizens of Perth-the slaughter of this bonnetmaking fellow, about whose death they clamour, as a set
of gulls about their comrade, when one of the noisy brood;s struck down by a boy's shaft."
"Their lives," said the King, " are dear to themselves
and their friends, Robin."
" Truly, ay, my liege; and they malke them dear to
us too, ere we can settle with the knaves for the least
blood-witt. —But, as I said, your Majesty thinks the Prince
had no share in this last slaulghter: I will not attempt to
shake your belief in that delicate point, but will endeavour
to believe along with you. What you think is rule for me.
Robert of Albany will never think otherwise than Robert
of broad Scotland."
" Thank you, thank you," said the King, taking his
brother's hand.  " I knew I might rely that your affection would do justice to poor heedless Rothsay, who exposes himself to so much misconstruction that he scarcely
deserves the sentiments you feel for him."
Albany had such an immovable constancy of purpose,
that he was able to return the fraternal pressure of the
King's hand, while tearing up by the very roots the hopes
of the indulgent, fond old man.; But, alas!" the Duke continued, with a sigh, " this
burly intractable Knight of Kinfauns, and his brawling
herd of burghers, will not view the matter as we do.
4* VOL. II




42            ST. VALENTINE r1 S DAY.
They have the boldness to say, that this dead fellow had
been misused by Rothsay and his fellows, who were in
the street in mask and revel, stopping men and women,
compelling them to dance, or to drink huge quantities of
wine, with other follies needless to recount; and they say,
that the whole party repaired to Sir John Ramorny's, and
broke their way into the house, in order to conclude their
revel there; thus affording good reason to judge, that the
dismissal of Sir John from the Prince's service was but a
feigned stratagem to deceive the public.  And hence,
they urge, that if ill were done that night, by Sir John
Ramorny or his followers, much it is to be thought that
the Duke of Rothsay must have at least been privy to, if
he did not authorize it."'" Albany, this is dreadful!" said the King; " would
they make a murderer of my boy? would they pretend
my David would soil his hands in Scottish blood, without
having either provocation or purpose? No. no-they will
not invent calumnies so broad as these for they are flagrant and incredible."' Pardon, my liege," answered the Duke of Albany 
C they say the cause of quarrel which occasioned the riot
in Curfew Street, and its consequences, were more proper
to the Prince than to Sir John; since none suspects, far
less believes, that that hopeful enterprise was conducted
for the gratification of the Knight of Ramorny."'
" Thou drivest me mad, Robin!" said the King.
" I am dumb," answered his brother; "' I did but speak
my poor mind according to your royal order."
"' Thou meanest well, I know," said the King; " but
instead of tearing me to pieces with the display of inevitable calamities, were it not kinder, Robin, to point mie
out some mode to escape from them?"
" True, my liege; but as the only road of extrication
is rough and difficult, it is necessary your Grace should
be first possessed with the absolute necessity of using it,
ere you hear it even described.  The chirurgeon must
first convince his patient of the incurable condition of a




ST1'. VAit EL NTliN EIS DAY.       43
shattered member, ere he venture to name amputation,
though it be the only remedy."
TheKiing, at these words, was roused to a degree of
alarm and indignation, greater than his brother had deemed he could be awakened to.
s" Shattered and mortified member! my Lord of Albany? amputation the only remedy!-These are unintelligible words, my lord. —If thou appliest them to our sort
Rothsay, thou must make them good to the letter, else
may'st thou have bitter cause to rue the consequence."
"m You construe me too literally, my royal liege," said
Albany, "I spoke not of the Prince in such unbeseeming
terms; for I call Heaven to witness, that he is dearer to
me as the son of a well-beloved brother, than had he been
son of my own. But I spoke in regard to separating him
from the follies and vanities of life, which holy men say
are like to mortified members, and ought, like them, to be
cut off and thrown from us, as things which interrupt our
progress in better things."
" I understand-thou wouldst have this Ramorny, who
hath been thought the instrument of my son's follies, exiled from court," said the relieved Monarch, " until these
unhappy scandals are forgotten, and our subjects are disposed to look upon our son with different and more confiding eyes."
" That were good counsel, my liege; but mine went a
little-a very little-farther.  I would have the Prince
himself removed for some brief period from court."'
6L How, Albany! part with my child, my first-born,
the light of my eyes, and-wilful as he is-the darling of
my heart!-Oh, Robin! I cannot, and I will not."
"' Nay, I did but suggest, my lord-I am  sensible of
the wound such a proceeding must inflict on a parent's
heart, for am I not myself a father?"  And he lhung his
head, as if in hopeless despondency.
"s I could not survive it, Albany.  When I think tlat
ev en our own influence over him, which, sometimes forgotten in our absence, is ever effectual whilst he is with
Uls, is by your plan to be entirely removed, what perils




44            ST. VAI'ENTINE IS DAY.
might he not rush upon? I could not sleep in his absence
— I should hear his death-groan in every breeze; and
you, Albany, though you conceal it better, would be
nearly as anxious."
Thus spoke the facile monarch, willing to conciliate his
brother and cheat himself, by taking it for granted that
an affection, of which there were no traces, subsisted betwixt the uncle and nephew.
6 Your paternal apprehensions are too easily alarmed,
my lord," said Albany.  "I do not propose to leave the
disposal of the Prince's motions to his own wild pleasure.
I understand that the Prince is to be placed for a short
time under some becoming restraint-that he should be
subjected to the charge of some grave counsellor, who
must be responsible both for his conduct and his safety,
as a tutOl for his pupil."
" How! a tutor'? and at Rothsay's age?" exclaimed
the King;  L he is two years beyond the space to whichl
our laws limit the term of nonage."
" The wiser Romans," said Albany, " extended it for
four years after the period we assign; and, in common
sense, the right of control ought to last till it be no longer
necessary, and so the time ought to vary with the disposition.  Here is young Lindsay, the Earl of Crawford,
who they say gives patronage to Ramorny on this appeal
— Ie is a lad of fifteen, with the deep passions and fixed
purpose of a man of thirty; while my royal nephew, with
much more amiable and noble qualities both of head and
heart, sometimes shows, at twenty-three years of age, the
wtanton humours of a boy, towards whom restraint may
be kindness.-And do not be discouraged that it is so, my
liege, or angry with your brother for telling the truth
since the best fruits are those that are slowest in ripening,
and the best horses such as give most trouble to the grooms
who train them for the field or lists."
The Duke stopped, and after suffering King Robert to
indulge for two or three minutes in a reverie which he did
not attempt to interrupt, he added, in a more lively tone,
-'But, cheer up, my noble liege; perhaps the feud may




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               45
be made up without farther fighting or difficulty. The
widow is poor, for her husband, though he was muchl
employed, had idle and costly habits.  The matter may
be therefore redeemed for money, and the amount of all
assythment* may be recovered out of Ramorny's estate."
" Nay, that we will ourselves discharge," said King
Robert, eagerly catching at the hope of a pacific termination of this unpleasing debate.'" Ramorny's prospects
wrill be destroyed by his being sent from court, and deprived of his charge in Rothsay's household; and it would
be ungenerous to load a falling man. —But here comes
our secretary, the Prior, to tell us the hour of council
approaches.-Good-morrow, my worthy father."
" Benedicite, my royal liege," answered the Abbot.
" Now, good father," continued the King, " without
waiting for Rothsay, whose accession to our councils we
will ourselves guarantee, proceed we to the business of
our kingdom. What advices have you from the Douglas?"
" He has arrived at his Castle of Tantallon, my liege,
and has sent a post to say, that though the Earl of March
remains in sullen seclusion in his fortress of Dunbar, his
friends and followers are gathering and forming an encampment near Coldingham, where it is supposed they
intend to await the arrival of a large force of English,
which Hotspur and Sir Ralph Percy are assembling on
the English frontier."
" That is cold news," said the Kinog; " and may God
forgive George of Dunbar!"-The Prince entered as he
spoke, and he continued —" Ha! thou art here at length,
Rothsay; —I saw thee not at mass."
" I was an idler this morning," said the Prince,'" having spent a restless and feverish night."
"' Ah, foolish boy!" answered the King; "hadst thou
not been over restless on Fastern's Eve, thou hadst not
been feverish on the night of Ash Wednesday."' Let me not interrupt your prayers, my liege," said
the Prince lightly.  " Your Grace was invoking Heaven
*' A mulct, in atonement for bloodshed, due to the nearest relations of the,feceased.




(6            ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
in behalf of some one-an enemy doubtless, for these
have the frequent advantage of your orisons."
"4 Sit down and be at peace, foolish youth!" said his
father, his eye resting at the same time on the handsome
face and graceful figure of his favourite son.  Rothsay
drew a cushion near to his father's feet, and threw himself carelessly down upon it, while the King resumed.
"I was regretting that the Earl of March, having separated warm from my hand with full assurance that he
should receive compensation for every thing which he
could complain of as injurious, should have been capable
of caballing with Northumberland against his own country
-Is it possible he could doubt our intentions to make
good our word?"
"' I will answer for him, No," said the Prince; " Maarch
never doubted your highness's word.  Marry, he may
well have made question whether your learned counsellors
would leave your Majesty the power of keeping it."
Robert the Third had adopted to a great extent the
timid policy, of not seeming to hear expressions, which,
being heard, required, even in his own eyes, some display
of displeasure.  He passed on, therefore, in his discourse,
wvithout observing his son's speech; but in private, Rothsay's rashness augmented the displeasure which his father
began to entertain against him.; It is well the Douglas is on the marches," said tile
King.  "' His breast, like those of his ancestors, has ever
been the best bulwark of Scotland."
"Then woe betide us if he should turn his back to
the enemy," said the incorrigible Rothsay.
"' Dare you impeach the courage of Douglas?" replied the King, extremely chafed.
" No man dare question the Earl's courage," said
Rothsay;'" it is as certain as his pride; —But his luck
may be something doubted.'
"By Saint Andrew, David!" exclaimed his father,
thou art like a screechowl-every word thou sayest
betokens strife and calamity."




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.                41
" I am silent, father," answered the youth.
" And what news of our Highland disturbances?" continued the King, addressing the Prior.
"I trust they have assumed a favourable aspect," answered the clergyman. " The fire which threatened the
whole country is likely to be drenched out by the blood
of some forty or fifty kerne; for the two great confederacies have agreed, by solemn indenture of arms, to decide their quarrel with such weapons as your Highness
may name, and in your royal presence, in such place as
shall be appointed, on the 30th of March next to come,
being Palm Sunday; the number of combatants being
limited to thirty on each side, and the fight to be maintained to extremity, since they affectionately make humble
suit and petition to your Msajesty, that you will parentally
condescend to wave for the day your royal privilege of
interrupting the combat, by flinging down of truncheon,
or crying of Ho! until the battle shall be utterly fought
to an end."
" The wild savages!" exclaimed the King; " would
they limit our best and dearest royal privilege, that of
putting a stop to strife, and crying truce to battle?-Will
they remove the only motive which could bring me to the
butcherly spectacle of their combat? —Would they fig!ht
like men;` or like their own mountain wolves?"
" My lord," said Albany; " the Earl of Crawford and
I had presumed, without consulting you, to ratify that
preliminary, for the adoption of which we saw much and
pressing reason."
" How! the Earl of Crawford!9' said the King.
" Methinks he is a young counsellor on such grave occurrents."' He is," replied Albany, " notwithstanding his early
years, of such esteem among his Highland neighbours,
that I could have done little with them  but for his aid
and influence."
"  Hear this, young Rothsay!" said the King reproachfully to his heir.




4S          ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
"I pity Crawford, Sire," replied the Prince.  " He
has too early lost a father, whose counsels would have
better become such a season as this."
The King turned next towards Albany with a look of
triumph, at the filial affection which his son displayed in
his reply.
Albany proceeded without emotion.  "It is not the
life of these Highlandmen, but their death, which is to be
profitable to this commonwealth of Scotland; and truly
it seemed to the Earl of Crawford and myself most desirable, that the combat should be a strife of extermination."
" Marry," said the Prince, " if such be the juvenile
policy of Lindsay, he will be a merciful ruler some ten
or twelve years hence! Out upon a boy, that is hard of
heart before he has hair upon his lip! Better he had contented himself with fighting cocks on Fastern's Even,
than laying schemes for massacring men on Palm Sunday, as if he were backing a welsh main, where all must
fight to death."' Rothsay is right, Albany," said the King;" it were
unlike a Christian Monarch to give way in this point.  I
cannot consent to see men battle until they are all hewn
down like cattle in the shambles.  It would sicken me to
look at it, and the warder would drop from myrhand for
mere lack of strength to hold it."
" It would drop unheeded," said Albany.  " Let me
entreat your Grace to recollect, that you only give up a
royal privilege, which, exercised, would win you no respect, since it would receive no obedience.  Were your
Majesty to throw down your warder when the war is high,
and these men's blood is hot, it would meet no more
regard than if a sparrow should drop among a herd o,
battling wolves the straw which he was carrying to his
nest.  Nothing will separate them but the exhaustion ot
slaughter; and better they sustain it at the hands of each
other, than from the swords of such troops as might at



ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              49
tempt to separate them at your Majesty's commands.
An attempt to keep the peace by violence, would he constriued into an ambush laid for them; both parties would
unite to resist it,-the slaughter would be the same, and
the hoped-for results of future peace would be utterly
disappointed."
" There is even too much truth in what you say, brother
Robin," replied the flexible King. " To little purpose
is it to command what I cannot enforce; and, although I
have the unhappiness to do so each day of my life, it
were needless to give such a very public example of royal
impotency, before the crowds who may assemble to behold
this spectacle. Let these savage men, therefore, work
their bloody will to the uttermost upon each other; I will
not attempt to forbid what I cannot prevent them from
executing.-Ileaven help this wretched country! I will
to my oratory and pray for her, since to aid her by hand
and head is alike denied to me. Father Prior, I pray
the support of your arm."
" Nay, but, brother," said Albany, " forgive me if I
remind you, that we must hear the matter between the
citizens of Perth and Ramorny, about the death of a
townsman --
"~ True, true-"9 said the Monarch, reseating himself;
"' more violence-more battle-Oh, Scotland! Scotland!
if the best blood of thy bravest children could enrich thy
barren soil, what land on earth would excel thee in fertility! When is it that a white hair is seen on the beard
of a Scottish man, unless he be some wretch like thy
sovereign, protected from murder by impotence, to witness
the scenes of slaughter to which he cannot put a period?
-Let them  come in-delay them  not. They are in
haste to kill, and grudge each other each fresh breath of
their Creator's blessed air. The demon of strife and
slaughter hath possessed the whole land!"
As the mild Prince threw himself back on hls seat, with
an air of impatience and anger not very usual with him,
the door at the lower end of the roomn was unclosed, and
5 vo,. aI.




b  ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
advancing from the gallery into which it led, (where in
perspective was seen a guard of the Butemen, or Bran.
danes, under arms,) came, in mournful procession, the
widow of poor Oliver, led by Sir Patrick Charteris, with
as much respect as if she had been a lady of the first
rank. Behind them came two women of good, the wives
of magistrates of the city, both in mourning garments,
one bearing the infant, and the other leading the elder
child. The Smith followed in his best attire, and wearing
over his buff-coat a scarf of crape.  Bailie Craigdallie,
and a brother magistrate,closedthe melancholy procession,
exhibiting similar marks of mourning.
The good King's transitory passion was gone the instant
he looked on the pallid countenance of the sorrowing
widow, and beheld the unconsciousness of the innocent
orphans who had sustained so great a loss; and when
Sir Patrick Charteris had assisted Magdalen Proudfute
to kneel down, and, still holding her hand, kneeled himself on one knee, it was with a sympathetic tone that
King Robert asked her name and blusiness. She made
no answer, but muttered something, looking towards her
conductor.
1' Speak for the poor woman, Sir Patrick Charteris,"
said the King,;' and tell us the cause of her seeking our
plresence."
16 So please you, my liege," answered Sir Patrick,
rising up, " this woman, and these unhappy orphans, make
plaint to your highness upon Sir John Ramorny of Ramorny, Knight, that by him, or by some of his household,
her umquhile husband, Oliver Proudfute, freeman and
burgess of Perth, was slain upon the streets of the city
on the eve of Shrove Tuesday, or morning of Ash Wed
nesday."' Woman," replied the King, with much kindness,;6 thou art gentle by sex, and should'st be pitiful even by
thy affliction; for our own calamity ought to make usnay, I think it doth make us-merciful to others.  Thy
husband hath only trodden the path appointed to us all."




ST. VALENTINE'S BAY.               51
X; In his case,"' said the widow, s" my liege must remember it has been a brief and a bloody one."
66 I agree he hath had foul measure.  But since I have
been unable to pi'otect him, as I confess was my royal
duty, I am willing, in atonement, to support thee and
these orphans, as well, or better, than you lived in the
days of your husband; only do thou pass from this charge,
and be not the occasion of spilling more life.  Remiember, I put before you the choice betwixt practising mercy
and pursuing vengeance, and that betwixt plenty and
penury."
"1 It is true, my liege, we are poor," answered the
widow, with unshaken firmness; " but I and my children
will feed with the beasts of the field, ere we live on the
price of my husband's blood.  I demand the combat by
my champion, as you are belted knight and crowned
King."'
" I knew it would be so!" said the King, aside to Albany.  " In Scotland, the first words stammered by an
infant, and the last uttered by a dying gray-beard, are-'combat-blood-revenge.'-It skills not arguing further.
Admit the defendants."
Sir John Ramorny entered the apartment.  He was
dressed in a long furred robe, such as men of quality wore
when they were unarmed. Concealed by the folds of
drapery, his wounded arm was supported by a scarf, or
sling of crimson silk, and with the left arm he leaned on
a youth, who, scarcely beyond the years of boyhood, bore
on his brow the deep impression of early thouglht, and
premature passion.  This was that celebrated Lindsay,
Earl of Crawford, who, in his afterdays, was known by
the epithet of the Tiger Earl,6and who ruled the great
and rich valley of Strathmore with the absolute power
and unrelenting cruelty of a feudal tyrant. Two or three
gentlemen, friends of the Earl, or of his own, countenanced
Sir John Ramorny by their presence on this occasion.
The charge was again stated, and met by a broad denial
on the part of the accused; and in reply, the challengers




a5r,2          ST. VALENTI-NE, S DA'Y.
oflfered to prove their assertion by an appeal to tile ordea.
of bier-right.
I' I am not bound9," answered Sir John Ramorny, " to
subtm-it to this ordeal, since I can prove by the evidence
of my late royal master, that I was in my own lodgings,
lying on my bed, ill at ease, while this Provost and these
Bal!ies pretend I was committing a crime to which I had
neither will nor temptation.  I can therefore be no just
object of suspicion."
a6 I can aver,' said the Prince, " that I saw and conversed with Sir John Ramorny about some matters concerning my own household, on the very night when this
murder was a-doing.  I therefore know that he was ill at
ease, and could not in person commit the deed in question.  But I know nothing of the employment of his attendants, and will not take it upon me to say that some
one of them may not have been guilty of the crime now
charged on them."
Sir John Ramorny had, during the beginning of this
speech, looked round with an air of defiance, which was
somewhat disconcerted by the concluding sentence of
Rothsay's speech. 66 I thank your Highness," he said,
with a smile, s" for your cautious and limited testimony
in my behalf.  He was wise who wrote,' Put not your
faith in Princes.' 9
G" If you have no other evidence of your innocence,
Sir John Ramorny," said the King, "d we may not, in
respect to your followers, refuse to the injured widow and
orphans, tile complainers, the grant of a proof by ordeal
of bier-right, unless any of them  should prefer that of
combat.  For yourself, you are, by the Prince's evidence
freed from the attaint."'
6 M3y liege," answered Sir John," Icantake warrant
upon myself for the innocence of my household and followers."'V Why so a monk or a woman might speak," said Sir
Pa-trick Charteris.  6 In knightly language, wilt thou, Sir
lohln de itamorny, do battle with me in the behalf of thy
OW.X'ittl~iA 




ST. VAENTINE S DAY.                53
"The Provost of Perth had not obtained time to name
the word combat," said Ramorny, 66 ere I would have
accepted it.  But I am not at present fit to hold a lance."
-   I am glad of it, under your favour, Sir John —There
will be the less bloodshed,'" said the tKing.  "You must
therefore produce your followers according to your steward's household book, in the great church of St. John,
that, in presence of all whom it may concern, they may
purge themselves of this accusation.  See that every
man of them do appear at the time of High aass, otherwise your honour may be sorely tainted."
They shall attend to a man," said Sir John Ramnorny.
Then bowing low to the King, he directed himself to the
young Duke of Rothsay, and making a deep obeisance,
spoke so as to be heard by him alone.  1" You have used
me generously, my lord!-One word of your lips could
have ended this controversy, and you have refiused to
speak it!-"
6 On my life," whispered the Prince, 6" I spake as
far as the extreme verge of truth and conscience would
permit.  I think thou could'st not expect I should frame
lies for thee;-and after all, John, in my broken recollections of that night, I do bethink me of a butcherly-looking mute, with a curtal-axe, mauch like such a one as may
have done yonder night-job. —Ha! have I touched you,
Sir Knight?9
Ramorny made no answer, but turned away as precipitately as if some one bad pressed suddenly on his wounded arm, and regained his lodgings with the Earl of Crawford; to whom, though disposed for anything rather thlan
revelry, he was obliged to offer a splendid collation. to
acknowledge in some degree his sense of the colmntentance
which the young noble had affordedlhim.
5*  VOL. i.s




54            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
CHAPTER V.
In pottingry he wrocht great pyne;
He murdreit mony in medecyne.
DUJNBAR.
WHEN, after an entertainment, the prolonging of which
was like torture to the wounded knight, the Earl of Crawford at length took horse, to go to his distant quarters in
the Castle of Dupplin, where he resided as a guest, the
Knight of Ramorny retired into his sleeping apartment,
agonized by pains of body and anxiety of mind.  Here
he found Henbane Dwining, on whom it was his hard fate
to depend for consolation in both respects.   The physician, with his afiectation of extreme humility, hoped he
saw his exalted patient merry and happy.
1' Merry as a mad dog!" said Ramorny, " and happy
as the wretch whom the cur hath bitten, and who begins
to feel the approach of the ravening madness. That ruthless boy, Crawford, saw my agony, and spared not a single
carouse.  I must do hirn justice, forsooth! If I had done
justice to him and to the world, I had thrown him out of
window, and cut short a career, which, if he grow up as
he has begun, will prove a source of misery to all Scotland,
but especially to Tayside.-Take heed as thou undoest
the ligatures, chirurgeon; the touch of a fly's wing on
that raw glowing stump were like a dagger to me."
"6 Fear not, my noble patron," said the leech, with a
chuckling laugh of enjoyment, which he vainly endeavoured to disguise under a tone of affected sensibility.
~ We' will apply some fresh balsam, and-he, he, he!relieve your knightly honour of the irritation which you
sustain so firmly."
"  Firmly, man?" said Ramorny, grinning with pain,
"b I sustain it as I would the scorching flames of purgatory
-the bone seems made of red-hot iron-thy greasy ointment will hiss as it drops upon the wound —And yet it is
December's ice, compared to the fever-fit of my mind!";~ We will first use our emollients upon the body, may
noble patron,' said Dwining;' and then, with you



ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               55
knighthood's permission, your servant will try his art on
the troubled mind-though I fain hope even the mental
pain also may in some degree depend on the irritation of
the wound, and that, abated as I trust the corporeal pangs
will soon be, perhaps the stormy feelings of the mind may
subside of themselves."
" Henbane Dwining," said the patient, as he felt the
pain of his wound assuaged, "6 thou art a precious and
invaluable leech, but some things are beyond thy power.
Thou canst stupify my bodily sense of this raging agony,
but thou canst not teach me to bear tile scorn of the boy
whom I have brought up, whom I loved, Dwining —for I
did love him,-dearly love him! The worst of my ill
deeds have been  to  flatter his vices —and he grudged me a word of his mouth, when a word would have
allayed this cumber.  He smiled, too-I saw him smile
when yon paltry Provost, the companion and patron oi
wretched burghers, defied me, whom this heartless Prince
knew to be unable to bear arms.-Ere I forget or forgive
it, thou thyself shalt preach up the pardoning of injuries!
-And then the care for to-morrow.-Think'st thou,
Heinbane Dwining, that, in very reality, the wounds of the
slaughtered corpse will gape, and shed tears of fresh
blood at the murderer's approach?"
6' I cannot tell, my lord, save by report," said Dwining,
" which avouches the fact."
"' The brute Bonthron," said Ramorny,' is startled
at the apprehension of such a thing, and speaks of being
rather willing to stand the combat.  What think'st thou?
-hle is a fellow of steel."
"' It is the armourer's trade to deal with steel," replied
Dwining.
o "Were Bonthron to fall it would little grieve me,"
said Rarnorny; " though I should miss an useful hand."
"1I vell believe your lordship will not sorrow as for
that you lost in Curfew Street-Excuse my pleasantry
— he, le, he!-But what are the useful properties of
thlis fellow Bonthron?"




56            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
" Those of a bull-dog," answered the knight; "; he
worries without barking."
"' You have no fear of his confessing?" said the physician.
" Who can tell what the dread of approaching death
may do?" replied the patient.  " He has already shown
a timorousness entirely alien from his ordinary sullenness
of nature; he that would scarce wash his hands after he
had slain a man, is now afraid to see a dead body bleed."
6C Well,'  said the leech,'1 I must do something for
him if 1 can, since it was to further my revenge that he
struck yonder downright blow, though by ill luck it lighted
not where it was intended."
"' And whose fault was that, timid villain," said Ramorny, "' save thine own, who marked a rascal deer for
a buck of the first head?"
c Benedicite, noble sir," replied the mediciner; "would
you have me, who know little save of chamber practice,
be as skilful of woodcraft as your noble self, or tell hart
from hind, doe from roe, in a glade at midnight? I misdoubted me little when I saw the figure run past us to the
smith's habitation in the wynd, habited like a morricedancer; and yet my mind partly misgave me whether it
was our man, for methought he seemed less of stature.
But when he came out again, after so much time as to
change his dress, and swapggered onwards with buff-coat
and steel-cap, whistling after the armourer's wonted fashion, I do own I was mistaken, super totam materiem, and
loosed your knighthood's bull-dog upon him, who did his
devoir most duly, though he pulled down the wvron deer.
Therefore, unless the accursed Smith kill our poor friend
stone-dead on the spot, I am determined, if art may do
it, that the ban-dog Bonthron shall not miscarry."
6 It will put thine art to the test, man of medicine,"
said Ramorny; for know, that having the worst of the
combat, if our champion be not killed stone-dead in the
lists, he will be drawn forth of them by the heels, and
without further ceremony knitted up to the gallows, as
convicted of the murder; and when he hath swunog there




ST. VALENTINE'S DATY.             5
like a loose tassel for an hour or so, I think thou wilt hardly
take it in hand to cure his broken neck."
" I am of a different opinion, may it please your knighthood," answered Dwirinig, gently.  "I will carry him of
from the very foot of the gallows into the land of faery, like
King Arthur, or Sir Huon of Bourdeaux, or Ugero the
Dane; or I will, if I please, suffer him to dangle on the
gibbet for a certain number of minutes or hours, and then
whisk him away from the sight of all, with as much ease
as the wind wafts away the withered leaf."
" This is idle boasting, Sir Leech,) replied Ramorny.
" The whole mob of Perth will attend him to the gallows,
each more eager than another to see the retainer of a
nobleman die, for the slaughter of a cuckoldly citizen.
There will be a thousand of them round the gibbet's foot."
" And were there ten thousand,' said Dvwining, "s shall
I, who am a high clerk, and have studied in Spain, and
Araby itself, not be able to deceive the eyes of this hoggish herd of citizens, when the pettiest juggler that ever
dealt in legerdemain can gull even the sharp observation
of your most intelligent knighthood? I tell you, I will put
the change on them as if I were in possession of Keddie's
ring."
" If thou speakest truth," answered the knight, 11 and
I think thou darest not palter with me on such a theme,
thou must have the aid of Satan, and I will have nought
to do with him.-I disown and defy him."
Dwining indulged in his internal chuckling laugh when
he heard his patron testify his defiance of the foul Fiend,
and saw him second it by crossing himself.  He composed himself, however, upon observing Ramnorny's aspect
become very stern, and said, with tolerable gravity, though
a little interrupted by the effort necessary to suppress his
mirthful mood, —
"' Confederacy, most devout sir; confederacy is the
soul of jugglery.  But —he, he, he!-I have not the honour to be —he, he!-an ally of the gentleman of whonm
you speak —in whose existence I am-he, he!-no very




58             ST. VALENTINE S BDAY.
profound believer, though your knightship, doubtless, hath
better opportunities of acquaintance."'6 Proceed, rascal, and without that sneer, which thou
mayest otherwise dearly pay for."
" I will, most undaunted," replied Dwining.  "Know
that I have my confederate too, else my skill were little
worth."
" And who may that be, pray you?"'9' Stephen Smotherwell, if it like your honour, lockman* of this Fair City. I marvel your knighthood knows
him not."
"6 And I marvel thy knaveship knows him not on professional acquaintance," replied Ramorny;'" but I see
thy nose is unslit, thy ears yet uncropped, and if thy
shoulders are scarred or branded, thou art wise for using
a high-collared jerkin."
" He, he! your honour is pleasant," said the mediciner.   " It is not by personal circumstances that I have
acquired the intimacy of Stephen Smotherwell, but on
account of a certain traffic betwixt us, in which, an't please
you, I exchange certain sums of silver for the bodies,
heads, and limbs, of those who die by aid of friend
Stephen."
"' Wretch!" exclaimed the knight, with horror, " is it
to compose charms and forward works of witchcraft,
that you trade for these miserable relics of mortality?"' He, he, he! —No, an it please your knighllthood,"
answered the mediciner, much amused with the ignorance
of his patron; "but we who are knights of the scalpel, are
accustomed to practise careful carving of the limbs ot
defunct persons, which we call dissection, whereby we
discover, by examination of a dead member, how to deal
with one belonging to a living man, which bathI become
diseased through injury or otherwise.  Ah! if your honour saw my poor laboratory, I could show you heads and
hands, feet and lungs, wNThich have been long supposed to: Executioner. So called because one of his dues consisted in taking a
small ladleful (Scottice, lock) of meal, out of every caskfii. exposed in tile
market.




ST. YALENTINE'S DAY.             59
De rotting in the mould.  The skull of Wallace, stolen
from London Bridge; the heart of Sir Simon Fraser7
that never feared man; the lovely skull of the fair Katie
Logiec.  Oh, had I but had the fortune to have preserved
the chivalrous hand of mine honoured patron!"''6 Out upon thee, slave!-Thinkest thou to disgust me
with thy catalogue of horrors?-Tell me at once where
thy discourse drives. How can thy traffic with the hangdog executioner be of avail to serve me, or to help my
servant Bonthron?"
6 lNay, I do not recommend it to your knighthood,
save in an extremity," replied Dwining.' But we will
suppose the battle fought, and our cock beaten. Now we
must first possess him with the certainty, that, if unable
to gain the day, we will at least save him from the hangman, provided he confess nothing which can prejudice
your knighthood's honour."
"1 Ha!-ay, a thought strikes me," said Ramorny.' We can do more than this-we can place a word in
Bonthron's mouth that will be troublesome enough to him
whom I am bound to curse, for being the cause of my
misfortune. Let us to the ban-dog's kennel, and explain
to him what is to be done in every view of the question.
If we can persuade him to stand the bier-ordeal, it may
be a mere bugbear, and in that case we are safe. If he
take the combat, he is fierce as a baited bear, and may,
perchance, master his opponent; then we are more than
safe-we are revenged.  If Bonthron himself is vanquished, we will put thy device in exercise; and if thou
canst manage it cleanly, we may dictate his confession,
take the advantage of it, as I will show thee on further
conference, and make a giant stride towards satisfaction
for my wrongs.-Still there remains one hazard.  Suppose our mastiff mortally wounded in the lists, who shall
prevent his growling out some species of confession different from what we would recommend?"
"Marry, that can his mediciner," said Dwining. " Let
me wait on him,and have the opportunity to lay but a finger
on his wound, and trust me he shall betray no confidence 




60            ST. VALENTINE'S DAA.
" Why, there's a willing fiend, that needs neither pushing nor prompting!" said Ramorny.
6" As I trust I shall need neither in your knighthood's
service."
"' We will go indoctrinate our agent," continued the
Knight.  "s We shall find him pliant; for hound as he is,
he knows those who feed from those who brow-beat him;
and he holds a late royal master of mine in deep hate for
some injurious treatment and base terms which he received at his hand.  I must also farther concert with thee
the particulars of thy practice, for saving the ban-dog
from the hands of the herd of citizens."
We leave this worthy pair of friends to their secret
practices, of which we shall afterwards see the results.
They were, although of different qualities, as well matched
for device and execution of criminal projects, as the greyhound is to destroy the game which the slow-hound raises,
or the slow-hound to track the prey which the gaze-hound
discovers by the eye.  Pride and selfishness were the
characteristics of both; but from the difference of rank,
education, and talents, they had assumed the most different appearance in the two individuals.
Nothing could less resemble the high-blown ambition
of the favourite courtier, the successful gallant, and the
bold warrior, than the submissive unassuming mediciner,
who seemed even to court and delight in insult; whilst, in
his secret soul, he felt himself possessed of a superiority
of knowledge,-a power, both of science and of mind,
which placed the rude nobles of the day infinitely beneath
him.  So conscious was Henbane Dwining of this elevation, that, like a keeper of wild beasts, he sometimes ad
ventured, for his own amusement, to rouse the stormy
passions of such men as Ramorny, trusting with his humble manner, to elude the turmoil he had excited, as an
Indian boy will launch his light canoe, secure from its very
fragility, upon a broken surf, in which the boat of an argosy would be assuredly dashed to pieces. That the sel-l
dal baron should despise the humnble practitioner in medi
cine, was a matter of course; but Ramorny felt not the




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               61
ess the influence which Dwining exercised over him, and
was in the encounter of their wits often mastered by him,
as the most eccentric efforts of a fiery horse are overcome
by a boy of twelve years old, if he has been bred to the
arts of the menage. But the contempt of Dwining for
Ramorny was far less qualified. H-le regarded the knight,
in comparison with himself, as scarcely rising above the
brute creation; capable indeed of working destruction,
as the bull with his horns, or the wolf with his fangs, but
mastered by mean prejudices, and a slave to priestcraft
in which phrase Dwining included religion of every kind.
On the whole, lie considered Ramorny as one whom nature had assigned to him as a serf, to mine for the gold
which he worshipped, and the avaricious love of which
was his greatest failing, though by no means his worst vice.
He vindicated this sordid tendency in his own eyes, by
persuading himself that it had its scource in the love of
power.
G' Henbane Dwining," he said, as he gazed in delight
upon the hoards which he had secretly amassed, and
which he visited from  time to time, "1 is no silly miser,
that dotes on those pieces for their golden lustre; it is the
power with which they endow the possessor, which makes
Iim thus adore them.  What is there that these put not
within your command? Do you love beauty, and are mean,
deformed, infirm, and old?-here is a lure the fairest
hawk of them all will stoop to.  Are you feeble, weak,
subject to the oppression of the powerful?-here is that
will arm in your defence those more mighty than the petty tyrant whom  you fear.  Are you splendid in your
wishes, and desire the outward show of opulence?-this
dark chest contains many a wide range of hill and dale,
many a fair forest full of game; the allegiance of a
thousand vassals.  Wish you for favour in courts, temporal or spiritual?-the smiles of Icings, the pardon of popes
and priests for old crimes, and the indulgence which encourages priest-ridden fools to venture on new ones,-all
these holy incentives to vice may be purchased for gold.
6  voL. li.




~62       ST. YALENTINE S DBAY.
Revenge itself, which tile gods are said to reserve to
themselves, doubtless because they envy humanity sc
sweet a morsel-revenge itself is to be bought by it.
But it is also to be won by superior skill, and that is the
nobler mode of reaching it. I will spare, then, my treasure for other uses, and accomplish my revenge gratis;
or rather lwilladdtheluxury of augmented wealth to the
triumph of requited wrongs."
Thus thought Dxwining, as, returned fiom his visit to
Sir John Ramorny, he added the gold he had received
for his various services to the mass of his treasure; and
having gloated over the whole for a minute or two, turned
the key on his concealed treasure-house, and walked forth
on his visits to his patients, yielding the wall to every man
whom he met, and bowing and doffing his bonnet to the
poorest burgher that owned a petty booth, nay, to the artificers who gained their precarious bread by the labour
of their welked hands.
"' Caitiffs," was the thought of his heart, while he did
such obeisance, " base, sodden witted mechanics! did
you know what this key could disclose, what foul weather
from Heaven would prevent your unbonneting? what putrid kennel in your wretched hamlet, would be disgusting
enough to make you scruple to fall down and worship the
owner of such wealth? But I will make you feel my power,
though it suits my humour to hide the source of it.  I will
be an incubus to your city, since you have rejected me as
a magistrate. Like the nightmare, I will hag-ride ye, yet
remain invisible myself.-This miserable Ramorny too,
he who, in losing his hand, has, like a poor artizan, lost
the only valuable part of his frame, he heaps insulting language on me, as if anything which he can say had power
to chafe a constant mind like mine! Yet while he calls
me rogue, villain, and slave, he acts as wisely as if he
should amuse himself by pulling hairs out of my head,
while my hand had hold of his heart-strings. Every inEult I can pay back instantly by a pang of bodily pain or
mental agony —andl-he! he!-I run no long accounts
with his knighthood, that must be allowed."




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              63
While the mediciner was thus indulging his diabolical
lmusing, and passing, in his creeping manner, along the
street, the cry of females was heard behind him.
"' Ay, there he is, Our Lady be praised!-there is the
most helpful man in Perth," said one voice.
"They may speak of knights and kings for redressing
wrongs, as they call it —but give me worthy Master Dwining the pottercarrier, cummers," replied another.
At the same moment, the leech was surrounded, and
taken hold of by the speakers, good women of the Fair
City.' How  now —what's the matter?"  said Dwining,
"' whose cow has calved?"
"' There is no calving in the case99 said one of the
women,'    but a poor fatherless wean dying; so come
awa' wi' you, for our trust is constant in you, as Bruce
said to Donald of the Isles."
"Op ierque per orbem dicor," said Henbane Dwining.
" What is the child dying of?"
"' The croup-the croup," screamed one of the gossips; " the innocent is rouping like a corbie."
6 Cynanche traclhealis-that disease makes brief work.
Show me the house instantly," continued the mediciner,
who was in the habit of exercising his profession liberally,
notwithstanding his natural avarice, and humanely, in spite
of his natural malignity. As we can suspect him of no
better principle, his motive most probably may have been
vanity and the love of his art.
He would nevertheless have declined giving his attendance in the present case, had he known whither the kind
gossips were conducting him, in time sufficient to frame
an apology. But ere he guessed where he was going,
the leech was hurried into the house of the late Oliver
Proudfute, from which he heard the chant of the women,
as they swathed and dressed the corpse of the umnquhile
Bonnet-maker, for the ceremony of next morning; of
which chant, the following verses may be received as a
modern imitation.




;64               ST. VALENTINE9S DAY.
1
Viewless Essence, thin and bare,
Well nigh melted into air;
Still with fondness hovering near
The earthly form thou once dicst wear
Pause upon thy pinion's flight.
Be thy course to left or right;
7Be thou doom'd to soar or sink,
Pause upon the awful brink.
3
To avenge the deed expelling
Thee untimely from my dwelling,
Mystic force thou shalt retain
O'er the blood and o'er the brain.
4
When the form thou shalt espy
T'hat darken'd on thy closing eye;
When the footstep thou shalt hear,'That thrill'd upon thy dying ear;
Then strange sympathies shall wake,
The flesh shall thrill, the nerves shall quake;
The wounds renew their clottered flood,
And every drop cry blood for blood!
Hardened as lie was, the physician felt reluctance to
sass the threshold of the man to whose death he had been
so directly, though, so far as the individual was concerned,
mistakingly accessory.
" Let me pass on, women,"  he  said, "' my  art can
only help the living-the dead are past our power."'s Nay, but your patient is up stairs —the youngest orphan        "
Dwining was compelled to go into the house.  But he
was surprised, when, the  instant he  stepped  over the
threshold, the gossips, who were busied with the dead
body, stinted suddenly in their song, while one said to
the others," In God's name, who entered?-that was a large gout
of blood!"
"; Not so,"  said  another voice,  " it is a drop of the
iquid balm."9




ST. VALE,NTINE S D.&Y             6  
G" Nay, cummer, it was blood-Again I say, who entered the house even now?"
One looked out from the apartment into the little en 
trance, where Dwining, under pretence of not distinctly
seeing the trap-ladder by which he was to ascend into
the upper part of this house of lamentation, was delaying
his progress purposely, disconcerted with what had reached him of the conversation.
6S Nay, it is only worthy Master Henbane Dwining,"
answered one of the sibyls.
16 Only Master Dwining?' replied the one who had
first spoken in a tone of acquiescence; " our best helper
in need?-then it must have been balm sure enough."
6 Nay," said the other, "6 it may have been blood nevertheless-for the leech, look you, when the body was
found, was commanded by the magistrates to probe the
wound with his instruments, and how could the poor
dead corpse know that that was done with good purpose?"
" Ay, truly, cummer; and as poor gossip Oliver often
mistook friends for enemies while he was in life, his
judgment cannot be thought to have mended now."
Dwining heard no more, being now forsed up stairs
into a species of garret, where Magdalen sat on her
widowed bed, clasping to her bosom  her infant, which,
already black in the face, and uttering the gasping crowing sound, which gives the popular name to the complaint, seemed on the point of rendering up its brief
existence.  A Dominican monk sat near the bed, holding the other child in his arms, and seeming from time
to time to speak a word or two of spiritual consolation,
or intermingle some observation on the child's disorder.
The mediciner cast upon the good father a single
glance, filled with that ineffable disdain which men of
science entertain against interlopers.  His own aid wvas
instant and efficacious; he snatched the child from tlhe
despairing mother, stripped its throat, and opened a veinq
whlich, as it bled freely, relieved the little patient instan.
6. voL.  I,




66            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
taneously. In a brief space every dangerous symptom
disappeared, and Dwining, having bound up  the vein,
replaced the infant in the arms of the half distracted
mother.
The poor woman's distress for her husband's loss,
which had been suspended during the extremity of the
child's danger, now returned on Magdalen with the force
of an augmented torrent, which has borne down the damdike that for a while interrupted its waves.
" Oh, learned sir," she said, " you see a poor woman
of her that you once knew a richer-But the hands that
restored this bairn to my arms must not leave this house
empty.  Generous, kind Master Dwining, accept of his
beads-they are made of ebony and silver-he aye liked
to hlave his things as handsome as any gentleman-and
liker he was in all his ways to a gentleman than any one
of his standing, and even so came of it."
With these words, in a mute passion of grief, she
pressed to her breast and to her lips the chaplet of her
deceased husband, and proceeded to thrust it into Dwining's hands.'" Take it," she said, " for the love of one who loved
you well.-Ah! he used ever to say, if ever man could
be brought back from the brink of the grave, it must be
by Master Dwining's guidance.-And his ain bairn is
brought back this blessed day, and he is lying there stark
and stiff, and kens naething of its health and sickness!
0, woe is me, and wala wa!-But take the beads, and
think on his puir soul, as you put them through your
fingers; he will be freed from purgatory the sooner that
good people pray to assoilzie him."
"Take back your beads, cummer-I know no leger
demain-can do no conjuring tricks," said the mediciner
who, more moved than perhaps his rugged nature had
anticipated, endeavoured to avoid receiving the ill-omened gift. But his last words gave offence to the churchman, whose presence he had not recollected when he
uttered them.
" How now, sir leech!" said the Dominican; " do
you call prayers for the dead juggling tricks? I know




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.                67
that Chaucer, the English Maker, says of you mediciners, that your study is but little on the Bible.  Our
mother, the Church, hath nodded of late, but her eyes
are now opened to discern friends from foes; and be
well assured —"
" Nay, reverend father," said Dwining, " you take me
at too great advantage. I said I could do no miracles,
and was about to add, that as the church certainly could
work such conclusions, those rich beads should be deposited in your hands, to be applied as they may best
benefit the soul of the deceased."
He dropped the beads into the Dominican's hand, and
escaped from the house of mourning.
" This was a strangely timed visit," he said to imself, when he got safe out of doors. " I hold such things
cheap as any can; yet, though it is but a silly fancy, I am
glad I saved the squalling child's life.-But I must to my
friend Smotherwell, whom I have no doubt to bring to my
purpose in the matter of Bonthron; and thus on this occasion I shall save two lives, and have destroyed only one."
CHAPTER VI.
Lo! where he lies embalmed in gore,
His wound to Heaven cries;
The floodgates of his blood implore
For vengeance from the skies.
URANUS AND PSYCHE.
THE High Church of St. John  in Perth, being that
of the patron saint of the burgh, had been selected by
the Magistrates as that in which the community was
likely to have most fair play for the display of the ordeal.  The churches and convents of the Dominicans,
Carthusians, and others of the regular clergy, had been
highly endowed by the king and nobles, and therefore it
was the universal cry of the city-council, that " their ain
good auld St. John," of whose good graces they thought
Whemselves sure, ought to be fully confided in, and pre



68            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
ferred to the new patrons, for whom the Dominicans,
Carthusians, Carmelites, and others, had founded newer
seats around the Fair City. The disputes between the
regular and secular clergy added to the jealousy which
dictated this choice of the spot in which Heaven was to
display a species of miracle, upon a direct appeal to the
divine decision in a case of doubtful guilt; and the townclerk was as anxious that the church of St. John should
be preferred, as if there had been a faction in the body
of saints for and against the interests of the beautiful
town of Perth.
Many, therefore, were the petty intrigues entered into
and disconcerted, for the purpose of fixing on the church.
But the Magistrates, considering it as a matter touching
in a close degree the honour of the city, determined,
with judicious confidence in the justice and impartiality
of their patron, to confide the issue to the influence of
St. John.
It was, therefore, after high mass had been performed,
with the greatest solemnity of which circumstances rendered the ceremony capable, and after the most repeated
and fervent prayers had been offered to Heaven by the
crowded assembly, that preparations were made for appealing to the direct judgment of Heaven on the mysterious murder of the unfortunate Bonnet-maker.
The scene presented that effect of imposing solemnity,
which the rites of the Catholic church are so well qualified to produce. The eastern window, richly and variously painted, streamed down a torrent of chequered
light upon the high altar.  On the bier placed before it
were stretched the mortal remains of the murdered man,
his arms folded on his breast, and his palms joined together, with the fingers pointed upwards, as if the senseless clay was itself appealing to Heaven for vengeance,
against those who had violently divorced the immortal
spirit from its mangled tenement.
Close to the bier was placed the throne, which supported Robert of Scotland, and his brother Albany.
The Prince sat upon a lower stool, beside his father:




ST. VALENTINE S DAY~.              69
an arrangement which occasioned some observation, as
Albany's seat being little distinguished from that of the
King, the heir-apparent, though of full age, seemed to be
degraded beneath his uncle in the sight of the assembled
people of Perth. The bier was so placed, as to leave
the view of the body it sustained open to the greater part
of the multitude assembled in the church.
At the head of the bier stood the Knight of Kinfauns,
the challenger, and at the foot the young Earl of' Crawford, as representing the defendant.  The evidence of
the Duke of Rotllsay in expurgation, as it was termed,
of Sir John Ramorny, had exempted him from the necessity of attendance as a party subjected to the ordeal;
and his illness served as a reason for his remaining at
home.  His household, including those who, though immediately in waiting upon Sir John, were accounted the
Prince's domestics, and had not yet received their dismissal, amounted to eight or ten persons, most of them
esteemed men of profligate habits, and who might therefore be deemed capable, in the riot of a festival evening,
of committing the slaughter of the Bonnet-maker. They
were drawn up in a row on the left side of the church,
and wore a species of white cassock, resembling the dress
of a penitentiary. All eyes being bent on them, several
of this band seemed so much disconcerted, as to excite
among the spectators strong prepossessions of their guilt.
The real murderer had a countenance incapable of betraying him,-a sullen, dark look, which neither the feast
nor wine-cup could enliven, and which the peril of discovery and death could not render dejected.
We have already noticed the posture of the dead body.
The face was bare, as were the breast and arms.  The
rest of the corpse was shrouded in a winding-sheet of
the finest linen, so that, if blood should flow from any
place which was covered, it could not fail to be instantly
manifest.
High mass having been performed, followed by a solemn invocation to the Deity, that he would be pleased tc
protect the innocent, and make known the guilty, Eviot,




70            ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.
Sir John Ramorny's page, was summoned to undergo the
ordeal.9 lie advanced with an ill-assured step. Perhaps
he thought his internal consciousness that Bonthron must
have been the assassin, might be sufficient to implicate
him in the murder, though he was not directly accessary
to it. He paused before the bier; and his voice faltered,
as he swore by all that was created in seven days and
seven nights, by heaven, by hell, by his part of paradise,
and by the God and author of all, that he was free and
sackless of the bloody deed done upon the corpse before
which he stood, and on whose breast he made the sign of
the cross, in evidence of the appeal. No consequences
ensued. The body remained stiff as before; the curdled
wounds gave no sign of blood.
The citizens looked on each other with faces of blank
disappointment.  They had persuaded themselves of
Eviot's guilt; and their suspicions had been confirmed by
his irresolute manner. Their surprise at his escape was
therefore extreme. The other followers of Ramorny took
heart, and advanced to take the oath, with a boldness
which increased, as one by one they performed the ordeal,
and were declared, by the voice of the judges, free and
innocent of every suspicion attaching to them on account
of the death of Oliver Proudfute.
But there was one individual, who did not partake that
increasing confidence.  The name of" Bonthron-Bonthron!" sounded three times through the aisles of the
church; but he who owned it acknowledged the call no
otherwise than by a sort of shuffling motion with his feet,
as if he had been suddenly affected with a fit of the palsy.
" Speak, dog," whispered Eviot, " or prepare for a
dog's death!"
But the murderer's brain was so much disturbed by
the sight before him, that the judges, beholding his deportment, doubted whether to ordain him to be dragged
before the bier, or to pronounce judgment in default; and
It wtas not, until he was asked for the last time, whether
lie would submit to the ordeal, that he answered, with
lls usual brevity, —




STo VALENTINE S DAY.              71
" 1 will not;-what do I know what juggling tricIks
may be practised to take a poor man's life?-I offer the
combat to any man who says I harmed that dead body."
And, according to usual form, he threw his glove upon
the floor of the church.
Henry Smith stepped forward, amidst the murmured
applauses of his fellow-citizens, which even the august
presence could not entirely suppress; and lifting the ruffian's glove, which he placed in his bonnet, laid down his
own in the usual form, as a gage of battle. But Bonthron raised it not.
"6 He is no match for me," growled the savage,'" nor
fit to lift my glove. I follow the Prince of Scotland, in
attending on his Master of Horse.  This fellow is a
wretched mechanic."
Here the Prince interrupted him.  " Thou follow me,
caitiff! I discharge thee from my service on the spot.Take him in hand, Smith, and beat him as thou didst never
thump anvil!-The villain is both guilty and recreant.  It
sickens me even to look at him; and if my royal father
will be ruled by me, he will give the parties two handsome
Scottish axes, and we will see which of them  turns out
the best fellow before the day is half an hour older."
This was readily assented to by the Earl of Crawford
and Sir Patrick Charteris, the godfathers of the parties,
who, as the combatants were men of inferior rank, agreed
that they should fight in steel caps, buff jackets, and with
axes; and that as soon as they could be prepared for the
combat.
The lists were appointed in the Skinners'Yards,l1 a
neighbouring space of ground, occupied by the corporation from which it had the name, and who quickly cleared a space of about thirty feet by twenty-five, for the
combatants. Thither thronged the nobles, priests, and
commons,-all excepting the old king, who, detesting
such scenes of blood, retired to his residence, and devolved the charge of the field upon the Earl of Errol, Lord
High Constable, to whose office it more particularly belonged. The Duke of Albany watched the whole pro



72            Sr. VALENTINE SB DAY.
ceeding with a close and wary eye. His nephew gave
the scene the heedless degree of notice which corresponded with his character.
When the combatants appeared in the lists, nothing
could be more striking than the contrast betwixt the manly, cheerful countenance of the Smith, whose sparkling,
bright eye seemed already beaming with the victory he
hoped for, and the sullen, downcast aspect of the brutal
Bonthron, who looked as if he were some obscene bird,
driven into sunshine out of the shelter of its darksome
haunts. They made oath severally, each to the truth of
his quarrel; a ceremony which Henry Gow performed
with serene and manly confidence.-Bonthron with a dogged resolution, which induced the Duke of Rothsay to
say to the High Constable,'" Didst thou ever, my dear
Errol, behold such a mixture of malignity, cruelty, and I
think fear, as in that fellow's countenance?"
"He is not comely," said the Earl, "a but a powerful
knave as I have seen."
" I'l11 gage a hogshead of wine with you, my good lord,
that he loses the day.  Henry the armourer is as strong
as he, and much more active. And then look at his bold
bearing! There is something in that other fellow that is
loathsome to look upon.  Let them  yoke presently, my
dear Constable, for I am sick of beholding him."'
The High Constable then addressed the widow, who,
in her deep weeds, and having her children still beside
her, occupied a chair within the lists:s-1 Woman, do
you willingly accept of thllis man, Henry the Smith, to do
battle as your champion in this cause?"'1 I do-I do, most willingly'," answered _Magdalen
Proudfute; "  and may the blessing of God and St. John
give him strength and fortune, since he stri;es for the
orphan and fatherless!"
"s Then I pronounce this a fenced field of battle," said
the Constable aloud.  "a Let no one dare, upon peril of
his life, to interrupt this combat by word, speech, or look.
-Sound, trumpets, and fight, combatants!"




ST. VAtENTINE S DAY.              qo
The trumpets flourished, and the combatants, advance
ing from the opposite end of the lists, with a steady and
even pace, looked at each other attentively, well skilled
in judging from the motion of the eye, the direction in
which a blow was meditated. They halted opposite to, and
within reach of, each other, and in turn made more than
one feint to strike, in order to ascertain the activity and
vigilance of tile opponent. At length, whether weary. of
these manceuvres, or fearing lest in a contest so conducted,
his unwieldy strength would be foiled by the activity of the
Smith, Bonthron heaved up his axe for a downright blow,
adding the whole strength of his sturdy arms to the weight
of the weapon in its descent.  The Smith, however,
avoided the stroke by stepping aside; for it was too forcible
to be controlled by any guard which he could have interposed.  Ere Bonthron recovered guard, Henry struck
him  a sidling blow on the steel head-piece, which prostrated him on the ground.
"Confess, or die," said the victor, placing his foot on
the body of the vanquished, and holding to his throat the
point of the axe, which terminated in a spike or poniard.
" I will confess," said the villain, glaring wildly upward on the sky.  " Let me rise."
" Not till you have yielded," said HIarry Smith.
LsI do yield," again murmured Bonlthron, and Henry
proclaimed aloud that his antagonist was defeated.
The Dukes of Rothsay and Albany, the High ConstaDle, and the Dominican Prior, now entered the lists, and
addressing Bonthron, demanded if he acknowledged himself vanquished.
"I do," answered the miscreant.
" And guilty of the murder of Oliver Proudfute?"'
" I am-but I mistook him for another."
" And whom didst thou intend to slay?" said the Prior.
" Confess, my son, and merit thy pardon in another world i
for with this thou hast little more to do.'"
"' I took the slain man," answered the discomfited coin7  voL. II.




74            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
batant,;' for him wvhose hand has struck me down, whose
foot now presses me."
" Blessed be the saints!" said the Prior; " now all
those wvhc doubt the virtue of the holy ordeal, may have
their eyes opened to their error.  Lo, he is trapped in the
snare which he laid for tihe guiltless."
I scarce ever saw the man before," said the Smith.
" I never did wrong to him or his.-Ask him, an it please
your reverence, why he should have thought of slaying
me treacherously."
" It is a fitting question," answered the Prior.-,6 Give
glory where it is due, my son, even though it is manifested by thy shame.  For what reason would'st thou have
waylaid this armourer, who says he never wronged thee?"
6' He had wronged him whom I served," answered
B3onthron; " and I meditated the deed by his command."
"6 By whose command?" asked the Prior.
Bonthron was silent for an instant; then growled out,H' He is too mighty for me to name."
"Hearken, my son," said the churchman; "tarry but
a brief hour, and the mighty and the mean of this earth
shall to thee alike be empty sounds. The sledge is even
now preparing to drag thee to the place of execution.
Therefore, son, once more I charge thee to consult thy
soul's weal by glorifying Heaven, and speaking the truth.
Was it thy master, Sir John Ramorny, that stirred thee
to so foul a deed?"
"~ No," answered the prostrate villain, "4 it was a greater
than he." And at the same time he pointed with his finger to the Prince.
" Wretch!" said the astonished Duke of Rothsay;
" do you dare to hint that I was your instigator?"
"' You yourself, my lord," answered the unblushing
ruffian.
"D ie in thy falsehood, accursed slave!" said the
Prince; and, drawing his sword, he would have pierced
his calumniator, had not the Lord High Constable intelposed with word and action.




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               75' Your Grace must forgive my discna;-ging mine office
— this caitiff must be delivered into the nands of the executioner.  He is unfit to be dealt with by any otherc
much less by your Highness."
66 What, noble Earl," said Albany, aloua, ana with much
real or affected emotion,'" would you let the dog pass
alive from hence, to poison the people's cars with false
accusations against the Prince of Scotland?-I say, cut
him to mammocks upon the spot-!"'" Your Highness will pardon me," said the Earl of
Errol; 1" I must protect him till his doom is executed.'
"6 Then let him he gagged instantly," said Albany.6 And you, my royal nephew, why stand you there fixed
in astonishment? Call your resolution up-speak to the
prisoner-swear —protest by all that is sacred that you
knew not of this felon deed.-See how the people look on
each other, and whisper apart! Miy life on't that this lie
spreads faster than any gospel truth.-Speak to them,
royal kinsman, no matter what you say, so you be constant
in denial."
"What, sir," said Rothsay, starting from his pause of
surprise and mortification, and turning haughtily towards
his uncle;' would you have me gage my royal word
against that of an abject recreant? Let those who can believe the son of their sovereign, the descendant of Bruce,
capable of laying ambush for the life of a poor mechanic,
enjoy the pleasure of thinking the villain's tale true."
6 That will not I for one,' said the Smith, bluntly.  "I
never did aught but what was in honour towards his royal
Grace the Duke of Rothsay, and never received unkindless from him, in word, look, or deed; and I cannot think
ie would have given aim to such base practice."
" Was it in honour that you threw his Highness from
the ladder in Curfew Street, upon Fastern's Even?" said
Bontlron; "' or think you the favour was received kindly
or unkindly?"
This was so boldly said, and seelned so plausible, that
it shook the Smith's opinion of the Prince's innocence.




76            ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
"c Alas, my lord," said he, looking sorrowfully towarda
Rothsay, " could your Highness seek an innocent fellow's
life for doing his duty by a helpless maiden?-I would
rather have died in these lists, than live to hear it said of
the Bruce's heir!"'; Thou art a good fellow, Smith," said the Prince;
" but I cannot expect thee to judge more wisely than
others.-Away with that convict to the gallows, and gibbet him alive an you will, that lie may speak falsehood and
spread scandal on us to the last prolonged moment of his
existence!"
So saying, the Prince turned away from the lists, disdaining to notice the gloomy looks cast towards him, as
the crowd made slow and reluctant way for him to pass,
and expressing neither surprise nor displeasure at a deep
hollow murmur, or groan, which accompanied his retreat.
Only a few of his own immediate followers attended him
from the field, though various persons of distinction had
come there in his train.  Even the lower class of citizens
ceased to follow the unhappy Prince, whose former indifferent reputation had exposed him to so many charges of
impropriety and levity, and around whom there seemed
now darkening suspicions of the most atrocious nature.
He took his slow and thoughtful way to the church of
the Dominicans; but the ill news, which fly proverbially
fstL. had reached his father's place of retirement, before
he himself appeared.  On entering the palace and inquiring for the King, the Duke of Rothsay was surprised
to be informed that he was in deep consultation with the
Duke of Albany, who, mounting on horseback as the
Prince left the lists, had reached the convent before him.
He was about to use the privilege of his rank and birth,
to enter the royal apartment, when TMacLewis, the commander of the guard of Brandanes, gave him  to undoers
stand, in the most respectful terms, that he had specia'
instructions which forbade his admittance.
"1 Go at least, laaclLewis, and let them know that I wait
their pleasure," said the Prince.  1" If my uncle desires
to hlave the credit of shutting the father's apartment




ST. VALE, NTINE'S DAY.             77
against the son, it will gratify him to know that I am attending in the outer hall like a lackey."
M May it please you," said MacLewis, with hesitation
" if your Highnes:, would consent to retire just now, and
to wait avhllile in pt tience, I will send to acquaint you when
the Duke of Albaay goes; and I doubt not that Iris MTajesty will then admit your Grace to his presence.  At
present, your Highness must forgive me,-it is impossible
you can have access."'
"' I understand you, MIacLewis; but go, nevertheless,
and obey my commands."
The officer went accordingly, and returned with a message, that the King wvas indisposed, and on the point of
retiring to his private chamber; but that the Duke of Albany would presently wait upon the Prince of Scotland.
It was, however, a full half hour ere the Duke of Albany appeared,-a period of time which Rothsay spent
partly in moody silence, and partly in idle talk with MacLewis and the Brandanes, as the levity or irritability of
his temper obtained the ascendant.
Atlength the Duke came, and with him  the Lord
High Constable, whose countenance expressed mucb
sorrow and embarrassment.
" Fair kinsman,99 said the Duke of Albany, "' I grieve
to say that it is my royal brother's opinion, that it will be
best, for the honour of the royal family, that your Royal
Highness do restrict yourself for a time to the seclusion
of the High Constable's lodgingsr-1and accept of the noble
Eail here present for your principal, if not sole companion,
until the scandals which have been this day spread abroad,
shall be refuted, or forgotten.'
"1 How is this, my Lord of Errol?"99 said the Prince, in
astonishment.'6 Is your house to be my jail, and is your
lordship to be my jailer?"
6' The saints forbid, my lord," said the Earl of Errol;
"6 but it is my unhappy duty to obey the commands oi
your father, by considering your Royal Highness for some
time as being under my ward."'
J  vor,. ii.




78            ST. VALENTINE'S DLDAY.
" The Prince-the heir of Scotland, under the ward
of the High Constable! —What reason can be given for
this?  Is the blighting speech of a convicted recreant of
strength sufficient to tarnish my royal escutcheon?"
V Wllile such accusations are not refuted and denied,
my kinsman," said the Duke of Albany, 6' they will contaminate that of a monarch."
" Denied, my lord!" exclaimed the Prince; " by
whom are they asserted? save by a wretch too infamous,
even by his own confession, to be credited for a moment,
though a beggar's character, not a prince's, were impeached. —Fetch him hither, —let the rack be shown to him;
you will soon hear him retract the calumny which he dared
to assert."
" The gibbet has done its work too surely to leave
Bonthron sensible to the rack," said the Duke of Albany.
"s He has been executed an hour since."
" And why such haste, my lord?" said the Prince;
" know you it looks as if there were practice in it, to
bring a stain on my name?"
" The custom is universal-the defeated combatant in
the ordeal of battle is instantly transferred from the lists
to the gallows. —And yet, fair kinsman," continued the
Duke of Albany, " if you had boldly and strongly denied
the imputation, I would have judged right to keep the
wretch alive for further investigation; bult as your highness was silent, I deemed it best to stifle the scandal in
the breath of him that uttered it."
" Saint Mary, my lord, but this is too insulting  Do
you, my uncle and kinsman, suppose me guilty of prompting such an useless and unworthy action, as that which
the slave confessed?"
4 It is not for me to bandy questions with your High.
ness; otherwise I would ask, whether you also mean to
deny the scarce less unworthy, though less bloody attack,
upon the house in Couvrefew Street?-Be not angry with
me, kinsman; but, indeed, your sequestering yourself for
some brief space from the court, were it only du ing the




S'T. VAL I E NTINE I, S 13 DAY.      9
King's residence in this city where so much offence has
been given, is imperiously demanded."
Rothsay paused, when he heard this exhortation; and
looking at the Duke in a very marked manner, replied," Uncle, you are a good huntsman. You have pitched
your toils with much skill; but you would have been
foiled, notwithstanding, had not the stag rushed among the
nets of free-will.  God speed you, and may you have the
profit by this matter which your measures deserve.  Say
to my father, I obey his arrest.-My Lord High Constable, I wait only your pleasure to attend you to your lodg-;ngs.  Since I am to lie in ward, I could not have desired
a kinder or more courteous warden."
The interview between the uncle and nephew being
thus concluded, the Prince retired with tile Earl of Errol
to his apartments; the citizens whom  lhey met in the streets
passing to the further side, when they observed the Duke
of Rothsay, to escape tile necessity of saluting one whoin
they had been taught to consider as a ferocious as well as
unprincipled libertine. The Constable's lodgings received the owner and his princely guest, both glad to leave
the streets, yet neither feeling easy in the situation which
they occupied with regard to each other within doors.
We must return to the lists after the combat had ceased,
and when the nobles had withdrawan.  The crowds were
now separated into two distinct bodies.  That wlhich
made the smallest in number, was at the same time the
most distinguished for respectability, consisting of the
better class of inhabitants of Perth, who were gratulatinr
the successful champion, and each other, upon the triumpthant conclusion to which they had brought their feud
with the courtiers.  The magistrates were so much elated
on the occasion, that they entreated Sir Patrick Chlarters's
acceptance of a collation in the Town-hall.  To tlhis,
Henry, the hero of the day, was of course invited, or ihe
was rather commanded to attend.  He listened to the
summons with great embarrassment, for it may be readily
believed his heart was with Catharine Glover.  But the
advice of his father Sitnmon decided him. That veteran
citizen had a natural and becoming deference for the mag



80            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
istracy of the Fair City; lie entertained a high estimation
of all honours which flowed from  such a source, and
thought that his intended son-in-law would do wrong not
to receive them with gratitude.'" Thou must not think to absent thyself from  such a
solemn occasion, son Henry," was his advice.  " Sir Patrick Charteris is to be there himself, and I think it will
be a rare occasion for thee to gain his good-will.  It is
like he may order of thee a new suit of harness; and I
myself heard worthy Bailie Craigdallie say, there was a
talk of furbishing up the city's armory.-Thou must not
neglect the good trade, now that thou takest on thee an
expensive family."
6 Tuslh, father Glover," answered the embarrassed
victor, "' I lack no custom-and thou knowest there is
Catharine, who may wonder, at my absence, and hlave her
ear abused once more by tales of glee-maidens, and I wot
not what."
"' Fear not for that," said the Glover, " but go, like an
obedient burgess, where thy betters desire to have thee.
I do not deny that it will cost thee some trouble to make
thy peace with Catharine about this duel; for she thinks
herself wiser in such matters than King and Council,
Kirk and Canons, Provost and Bailies.  But I will take
up the quarrel with her myself, and will so work for thee,
that though she may receive thee to-morrow with somnewhat of a chiding, it shall melt into tears and smiles, like
an April morning, that begins Nwith a mild shower.  Away
with thee then, my son, and be constant to the timle, tomorrow miorlning  after mass."
The Sinith, though reluctantly, was obliged to defer to
the reasoning of his proposed father-in-law; and, once
determnined to accept the honour destined for him by the
fathers of the city, he extricated himself from the crowd
and hastened home to put on his best apparel; in whicl
he presently afterwards repaired to the Council-house,
where the ponderous oak table seemed to bend undgr the
massy dishes of choice Tay salmon, and delicious seafish from Dundee, being the dainties which the fasting
season permitted, wlhilst neither wine, ale, nor metheglin




ST. VALENTINE S D Y.t              81
were wanting to wash them  down.  The waits, or minstrels of the burgh, played during the repast, and in the
intervals of the music, one of them recited with great
emphasis, along poetical account of the battle of Blackearn-side, fought by Sir William Wallace, and his redoubted captain and friend, Thomas of Longueville, against
the English general, Seward-a theme perfectly familiar
to all the guests, who, nevertheless, more tolerant than
their descendants, listened as if it had all the zest of novelty. It was complimentary to tile ancestor of the Kniglht
of Kinfauns doubtless, and to other Perthshire families,
in passages which the audience applauded vociferously,
whilst they pledged each other in mighty draughts, to the
memory of the heroes who had fought by the side of the
Champion of Scotland.  The health of Henry Wynd
was quaffed with repeated shouts, and the Provost announced publicly, that the magistrates were consulting how
they might best invest him with some distinguished privilege, or honorary reward, to show how highly his fellowcitizens valued his courageous exertions.
"N Say, take it not thus, an it like your worships," said
the Smith, with his usual blunt manner, " lest men say that
valour must be rare in Perth, when they reward a man for
fighting for the righlit of a forlorn widow.  I am sure there
are many scores of stout burghers in the town who would
have done this day's dargue, as well or better than I.
For, in good sooth, I ought to have cracked yonder fellow's
head-piece, like an earthern pipkin —ay, and would have
done it too, if it had not been one which I myself tempered for Sir John Ramorny.  But an the Fair City think
my service of any worth, I will conceive it far more than
acquitted by any aid which you may afford from the Common Good,* to the support of the widow Magdalen and
her poor orphans'"
"' That may well be done," said Sir Patrick Charteris,
"6 and yet leave the Fair City rich enough to pay her
ltebts to Henry Wynd, of which every man of us is a
The public property of the burgh.




82  ST. VALZENTINT' S IAY.
better judge than Iihnself, who is blinded with an unavailing nicety, which men call modesty-And if the burgh
be too poor for this, the Provost will bear his share.  The
Rover's golden angels have not all taken flight yet."
The beakers were now circulated, under the name of a
cup of comfort to the widow, and anon flowed around
once more to tile happy memory of the murdered Oliver,
now so bravely avenged.  In short, it was a feast so jovial,
that all agreed nothing was wanting to render it perfect,
but the presence of the Bonnet-maker himself, whose
calamity had occasioned the meeting, and who had usually
furnished the standing jest at such festive assemblies.
Had his attendance been possible, it was dryly observed
by Bailie Craigdallie, he would certainly have claimed
the success of the day, and vouched himself the avenger
of his own murder.
At the sound of the vesper bell the company broke up,
some of the graver sort going to evening prayers, where,
with half-shut eyes and shining countenances, they made
a most orthodox and edifying portion of a Lenten congregation; others to their own homes, to tell over the
occurrences of the fight and feast, for the information of
the family circle; and some, doubtless, to the licensed
freedoms of some tavern, the door of which Lent did not
keep so close shut as the forms of the Church required.
Henry returned to the Wynd, warm with the good wine
and the applause of his fellow-citizens, and fell asleep to
dream of perfect happiness and Catllarine Glover.
We have said, that when t1he combat was decided, the
spectators were divided into two bodies.  Of these, when
the more respectable portion attended the victor in joyous
procession, much the greater number, or what might be
termred the rabble, waited upon thle subdued and sentenced
B3onthron, who was travelling in a different direction, and
for a very opposite purpose.  Whatever may be thought
of the comparative attractions of the house of mourning
and of feasting under other circumstances, there can be
little doubt which will draw most visiters, when the question is, whether we, would witness miseries wrhich we are




ST. VAtLENTINE S DAY.              83
not to share, or festivities of which we are not to partake.
Accordingly, the tumbril in which the criminal was conveyed to execution, was attended by far the greater proportion of the inhabitants of Perth.
A friar was seated in the same car with the murderer,
to whom he did not hesitate to repeat, under the
seal of confession, the same false asseveration which lie
had made upon the place of combat, which charged the
Duke of Rothsay with being director of the ambuscade
by which the unfortunate Bonnet-maker had suffered.
The same falsehood he disseminated among the crowd,
averring, with unblushing effiontery, to those who were
nighest to the car, that he owed his death to his having
been willing to execute the Duke of Rothsay's pleasure.
For a time he repeated these words, sullenly and doggedly, in the manner of one reciting a task, or a liar who
endeavours by reiteration to obtain a credit for his words,
which he is internally sensible they do not deserve. But
when he lifted up lis eyes, and beheld in the distance
the black outline of a gallows, at least forty feet high,
with its ladder and its fatal cord, rising against the horizon,
lie became suddenly silent, and the friar could observe
that he trembled very much.
h' Be'comforted, my son," said the good priest, " you
have confessed the truth, and received absolution.  Your
lenitence will be accepted according to your sincerity;
and though you have been a man of bloody hands and
cruel heart, yet, by the Church's prayers, you shall be in
due time assoilzied fiom the penal fires of purgatory."
These assurances were calculated rather to augment
than to diminish the terrors of the culprit, who was agitated by doubts whether the mode suggested for his preservation from death would to a certainty be effectual, and
some suspicion whether there was really any purpose of
employing them in his favour; for he knew his master
well enough to be aware of the indifference with whichl he
would sacrifice one, who might on some future occasion
be a dangerous evidence against him.




f64           ST. VALENTINE S DA1:Y.
His doom, however, was sealed, and there was no escaping from it.  They slowly approached the fatal tree,
which was erected on a bank by the river's side, about
half a mile from the walls of the city; a site chosen that
the body of the wretch, which was to remain food for the
carrion crows, might be seen from a distance in every
direction.  Here the priest delivered Bonthron to the executioner, by whom he was assisted up the ladder, and to
all appearance despatclled according to the usual forms of
the law.  He seemed to struggle for life for a minute, but
soon after hung still and inanimate.  The executioner,
after remaining upon duty for more than half an hour, as
if to permit the last spark of life to be extinguished, announced to the admirers of such spectacles, that the irons
for the permanent suspension of the carcass not having
been got ready, the concluding ceremony of disembowelling the dead body, and attaching it finally to the gibbet,
would be deferred till the next morning at sunrise.
Notwithstanding the early hour which he had named,
PMaster Smotherwell had a reasonable attendance of rabble at the place of execution, to see the final proceedings
of justice with its victim.  But great was the astonishment and resentment of these amateurs, to find that the
dead body had been removed fromn the gibbet.  They
were not, however, long at a loss to guess the cause of
its disappearance.  Bonthron had been the follower of a
*3aron whose estates lay in Fife, and was himself a native of that province.  What was more natural than that
some of the Fife men, whose boats were frequently plying
on the river, should have clandestinely removed the body
of their countryman from  the place of public shame?
The crowd vented their rage against Smotherwell, for not
completing his job on the preceding evening; and had not
lie and his assistant betaken themnselves to a boat, and
escaped across the Tay, they wouldhaverun somerisk of
being pelted to death.  The event, however, was too
much in the spirit of the times to be much wondered at.
Its real cause we shall explain in the following chapter,




ST. VALENTINE IS DAY.              85
CHAPTER VII.
"Let gallows gape for dogs, let men go free."
Henr'y V.
THE incidents of a narrative of this kind must be adapted to each other, as the wards of a key must tally accurately with those of the lock to which it belongs. The reader,
however gentle, will not hold himself obliged to rest satisfied with the mere fact, that such and such occurrences
took place, which is, generally speaking, all that in ordinary life he can know of what is passing around him; but
he is desirous, while reading for amusement, of knowing
the interior movements occasioning the course of events.
This is a legitimate and reasonable curiosity; for every
man hath a right to open and examine the mechanism of
his own watch, put together for his proper use, although
he is not permitted to pry into the interior of the timepiece, which, for general information, is displayed on the
town-steeple.
It would be, therefore, uncourteous to leave my readers
under any doubt concerning the agency which removed
the assassin Bontlhron from the gallows; an event which
some of the Perth citizens ascribed to the foul Fiend
himself, while others were content to lay it upon the natural dislike of Bonthron's countrymen of Fife, to see him
hanging on the river side, as a spectacle dishonourable to
their province.
About midnight succeeding the day when the execution
had taken place, and while the inhabitants of Perth were
deeply buried in slumber, three men muffled in theii cloaks,
and bearing a dark lantern, descended the alleys of a garden
which led from the house occupied by Sir John Ramorny,
to the banks of the Tay, where a small boat lay moored
to a landing-place, or little projecting pier. The wind
howled in a low and melancholy manner through the
eafless shrubs and bushes; and a pale moon twaded, as
8 voL. II.




86. YAIENTINE S DAY.
it is termed in Scotland, amongst drifting clouds, which
seemed to threaten rain.  The three individuals entered
the boat with great precaution, to escape observation.
One of them was a tall powerful man; another short and
bent downwards; the third middle-sized, and apparently younger than his companions, well made and active.
Thus much the imperfect light could discover.  They
seated themselves in the boat, and unmoored it from the
pier.'  We must let her drift with the current, till we pass
the bridge, where the burghers still keep guard; and you
know the proverb-A Perth arrow hath a perfect flight,"
said the most youthful of the party, who assumed the office
of helmsman, and pushed the boat off from the pier;
whilst the others took the oars, which were muffled, and
rowed with all precaution, till they attained the middle of
the river; they then ceased their efforts, lay upon their
oars, and trusted to the steersman for keeping her in midchannel.
In this manner they passed unnoticed or disregarded
beneath the stately Gothic arches of the old bridge, erected by the magnificent patronage of Robert Bruce in 1329,
and carried away by an inundation in 1621.  Although
they heard the voices of a civic watch, which, since these
disturbances commenced, had been nightly maintained in
that important pass, no challenge was given; and when
they were so far down the stream as to be out of hearing
of these guardians of the night, they began to row, but
still with precaution, and to converse, though in a low
tolle.
" You have found a new trade, comrade, since I left
you," said one of the rowers to the other.  " I left you
engaged in tending a sick knight, and I find you emlployed in purloining a dead body from the gallows."
"A living body, so please your squirehood, Master
Buncle; or else my craft bath failed of its purpose.'
"So I am told, Master Pottercarrier; but saving your
clerkship, unless you tell me your trick, I will take leave
to doubt of its success "




ST. VATIL NTINE'S DAY.           87
"A simple toy, Mlaster Buncle, not likely to please a
genius so acute as that of your valiancie.  Marry, thus it
is.  This suspension of the human body, which the vulgar
call hanging, operates death by apoplexia,-that is, the
blood being unable to return to the heart by the compression of the veins, it rushes to the brain, and the man dies.
Also, and as an additional cause of dissolution, the lungs
no longer receive the needful supply of the vital air, owing
to the ligature of the cord around the thorax; and hence
the patient perishes."
" I understand that well enough-but how is such a
revulsion of blood to the brain to be prevented, Sir Mediciner?" said the third person, who was no other than
Ramorny's page Eviot.
"Marry, then," replied Dwining, "' hang me the patient up in such fashion that the carotid arteries shall not
be compressed, and the blood will not determine to the
brain, and apoplexia will not take place; and again, ii
there be no ligature around the thorax, the lungs will be
supplied with air, whether the man be hanging in the
middle heaven, or standing on the firm earth."
"; All this I conceive," said Eviot; " but how these
precautions can be reconciled with the execution of the
sentence of hanging, is what my dull brain cannot comprehend."
"' Ah! good youth, thy valiancie hath spoiled a fair
wit.  Hadst thou studied with me, thou should'st have
learned things more difficult than this.   But here is my
trick. I get me certain bandages, made of the same sub-tance with your young valiancie's horse-girths, having
especial care that they are of a kind which will not shrink
on being strained, since that would spoil my experiment.
One loop of this substance is drawn under each foot, and
returns up either side of the leg to a cincture, with which
it is unitedI; these cinctures are connected by divers straps
down the breast and back, in order to divide the weight,
and there are sundry other conveniences for easing the
patient; but the chief is this. The straps, or ligatures,
are attached to a broad steel collar, curving outwards, and
having a hook or two, for the better security of the hal



883           ST.o VALEN'INIr'S DAY.
ter, which the friendly executioner passes around that
part of the machine, instead of applying it to the bare
throat of the patient.  Thus, when thrown off from the
ladder, the sufferer will find himself suspended, not by
his neck, if it please you, butbythe steel circle, which
supports the loops in which his feet are placed, and on
which his weight really rests, diminished a little by similar
supports under each arm. Thus, neither vein nor windpipe being compressed, the man will breathe as free, and
his blood, saving from fright and novelty of situation, will
flow as temperately as your valiancie's, when you stand
up in your stirrups to view a field of battle."'
"6 By my faith, a quaint and rare device!" quoth Buncle.' Is it not?" pursued the leech, "6 and well worth being
known to such mounting spirits as your valiancies, since
there is no knowing to what height Sir John Ramorny's
pupils may arrive; and if these be such, that it is necessary to descend from them by a rope, you may find my
mnode of management more convenient than the common
practice.  Marry, but you must be provided with a highcollared doublet, to conceal the ring of steel; and, above
all, such a bonus socius as Smotherwell to adjust the
nooCse."
" Base poison-vender," said Eviot, "' men of our call.ing die on the field of battle!'"
s" I will save the lesson, however," replied Buncie,
" in case of some pinching occasion-But what a night
the bloody hang.-dog Bonthron must have had of it, dancing a pavise in mid air to the music of his own shackles
as the night wind swings him that way and this!'9
"It were an alms deed to leave him there," said Eviot' for his descent from the gibbet will but encourage him
to new murders.  He knows but two elements-drunkenness and bloodshed."
" Perhaps Sir John Ramorny might have been of your
opinion," said Dwining; "d but it would first have been
necessary to cut out the rogue's tongue, lest he had told
strange tales from his airy height.  And there are other
reasons that it concerns not your valiances to know. In
truth, I myself have been generous in serving him, for the




ST. VALETI'NE 9S DAY.                89
fellow is built as strong as Edinburgh Castle, and his
anatomy would have matched any that is in theo chi:'urgical hall of Padua.-But tell me, Master Buncle, what
news bring you from the doughty Douglas?"'L They may tell that knowv," said Buncle.     I T am
the dull ass that bears the message, and kens nought of
its purport.  The safer for myself perhaps.  I carried
letters from the Duke of Albany and from Sir John Ramorny to the Douglas, and lie looked black as a northern
tempest when he opened them-I brought them answers
fiom the Earl, at which they smiled like the sun when the
llarvest storm  is closing over him.   Go to your Ephemerides, leech, and conjure the meaning out of that.";" Methinks I can do so without much cost of wits'
said the chirurgeon; "but yonder I see in the pale moonlight
our dead-alive. —Should he have screamed out to any
chance passenger, it were a curious interruption to a
night-journey, to be hailed from the top of such a gallows
as that. —Iarlk, methinks I do hear his groans amid the
whistling of the wind and the creaking of the chains.
So —fair and softly —make fast the boat with the grappling-and get out the casket with my matters —we would
be better for a little fire, but the light might bring observation on us.-Come on, my men of valour, march warily,
for we are bound for the gallows foot-Follow with the
lantelrn-  trust the ladder has been left."'Sing, three merry-men, and three merry-men,
And three merry-men are we,
Thou on the land, and I on the sand,
And Jack on the gallows tree."'
As they advanced to the gibbet, they could plainly hear
groans, though uttered in a low tone.  Dwining ventured
to give a low cough once or twice, by way of signal; but
receiving no answer, "1 We had best make haste," said lhe
to his companions, 5 for our fi'iend must be in extrenmii,
as he gives no answer to the signal which annoitnces the
arrival of help.-Come, let us to the gear.  I will go up
the ladder first and cut the rope.  Do you two follow, one
after another, and take fast hold of the body, so that he
S3' VOL. 1I.




90            ST. VYALENTINEIS S DAY.
fall not when the halter is unloosed.  Keep sure gripe,
for which the bandages will afford you convenience.
Bethink you, that though lie plays an owl's part to-night,
he hath no wings, and to fall out of a halter may be as
dangerous as to fall into one."
While lie spoke thus, 1withl sneer and gibe, lie ascended
the ladder, and having ascertained that the men-at-arms
who followed him had the body in their hold, hIe cut the
rope, and then gave his aid to support the almost lifeless
form of the criminal.
By a skilful exertion of strength and address, the body
of Bonthron was placed safely on the ground, and the
faint, yet certain existence of life having been ascertained, it was thence transported to the river side, where,
shrouded by the bank, the party imight be best concealed
fiom observation, while the leech employed himself in the
necessary means of recalling animation, with which he
had taken care to provide himself.
For this purpose he first freed the recovered person
from his shackles, which the executioner had left unlocked on purpose, and at the same time disengaged the
complicated envelopes and bandages by which he had
been suspended. It was some time ere Dwining's efforts
succeeded; for in despite of the skill with which his
machine had been constructed, the straps designed to
support the body, had stretched so considerably as to occasion the sense of suffocation becoming extremely overpowering. But the address of the surgeon triumphed
over all obstacles; and after sneezing and stretching
himself with one or two brief convulsions, Bonthron gave
decided proofs of reanimation, by arresting the hand of
the operator as it was in the act of dropping strong waters
on his breast and throat; and, directing the bottle which
contained them to his lips, he took, almost perforce, a
considerable gulph of the contents.
" It is spiritual essence double distilled," said the astonished operator, " and would blister the throat, and
burn the stomach of any other man.  But this extraordinary beast is so unlike all other human creatures, that




ST. VALENTINE'IS DAY.               91
I should not wonder if it brought him to the complete
possession of his faculties."
Bonthron seemed to confirm  this; he started with a
strong convulsion, sat up, stared around, and indicated
some consciousness of existence.
"Wine —wine," were the first words which he articulated.
The leech gave him  a draught of medicated wine
mixed with water.  He rejected it, under the dishonour
able epithet of " kennel-washings," and again uttered the
words-"  Wine-wine."
"6 Nay, take it to thee, i' the devil's name," said the
leech, " since none but he can judge of thy constitution."
A draught, long and deep enough to have discomposed
the intellects of any other person, was found effectual
in recalling those of Bonthron to a more perfect state;
though lie betrayed no recollection of where he was or
what had befallen him, and in his brief and sullen manner,
asked why he was brought to the river side at this time
of night.
" Another frolic of the wild Prince, for drenching me
as he did before-Nails and blood, but I would-"
" Hold thy peace," interrupted Eviot, " and be thankful I pray you, if you have any thankfulness in you, that
thy body is not crow's meat, and thy soul in a place
where water is too scarce to duck thee."
" I begin to bethink me," said the ruffian; and raising the flask to his mouth, which he saluted with a long
and hearty kiss, he set the empty bottle on the earth,
dropped his head on his bosom, and seemed to muse for
the purpose of arranging his confused recollections.
" We can abide the issue of his meditations no longer,"
said Dwining, " he will be better after he has slept.Up, sir! you have been riding the air these some hours
-try if the water be not an easier mode of conveyance.
-Your valours must lend me a hand.  I can no more lift
this mass, than I could raise in my arms a slaughtered bull."
"' Stand upright on thine own feet, Bonthron, now we
have placed thee upon them," said Eviot.
"s I cannot," answered the patient.  "1 Every drop of
blood tingles in my veins as if it had pin-points, and my




92            ST. YAIENTINE' S DAY.
knees refuse to bear their burden.  What can be the
meaning of all this? This is some practice of thine, thou
dog leech!19
" Ay, ay, so it is, honest Bonthron," said Dwining,'; a practice thou shalt thank me for, when thou comest
to learn it.  In the meanwhile, stretch down in the stern
of that boat, and let me wrap this cloak about thee."
Assisted into the boat accordingly, Bonthron was deposited there as conveniently as things admitted of.  He
answered their attentions with one or two snorts resembling the grunt of a boar, who has got some food particularly agreeable to him.'; And now, Buncle," said the chirurgeon, " your valiant squireship knows your charge. You are to carry
this lively cargo by the river to NTewburgh, where you
a,'s to dispose of him as you wot of; meantime, here are
his shackles and bandages, the marks of his confinement
and liberation.  Bind them up together, and fling them
into the deepest pool you pass over; for, found in your
possession, they might tell tales against us all.  This
low, light breath of wind from the west, will permit you
to use a sail as soon as the light comes in, and you are
tired of rowing. —Your other valiancy, Master Page Eviot,
must be content to return to Perth with me afoot, for
here severs our fair company.-Take with thee the lantern, Buncle, for thou wilt require it more than we, and
see thou send me back my flasket."
As the pedestrians returned to Perth, Eviot expressed
his belief that Bonthron's understanding would never recover the shock which terror had inflicted upon it, and
which appeared to him to have disturbed all the faculties
of his mind, and in particular his memory.
"s It is not so, an it please your pagehood,"9 said the
leech.  " Bonthron's intellect, such as it is, hath a solid
character-it will but vacillate to and fro like a pendulum which hath been put in motion, and then will rest in
its proper point of gravity. Our memory is, of all our
powers of mind, that which is peculiarly liable to be suspended. Deep intoxication or sound sleep alike destroy




ST. VAILENTlNE S DAY.
it. and yet it returns when the drunkard becomes sober,
or the sleeper is awakened. Terror sometimes produces
the same effects.  I knew at Paris a criminal condemned to die by the halter, who suffered the sentence accordingly, showing no particular degree of timidity upon the
scaffold, and behaving and expressing himself as men in
the same condition are wont to do.  Accident did for
him what a little ingenious practice hath done for our
amiable friend from whom we but now parted.  Hle was
cut down, and given to his friends before life was extinct,
and I had the good fortune to restore him. But though
he recovered in other particulars, he remembered but little
of his trial and sentence.  Of his confession on the
morning of his execution —he! he! he!-(in his usual
chuckling inanner) —he remembered him not a word.
Neither of leaving the prison-nor of his passage to the
Greve, where he suffered —nor of the devout speeches
with which lie-he, he! —edified —he, he, lie! —so many
good Christians —nor of ascending the fatal tree, nor of
taking the fatal leap, had my revenant the slightest recollection.!& But here we reach the point where we must
separate; for it were unfit, should we meet any of the
watch, that we be found together, and it wvere also prudent that we enter the city by different gates.  My profession forms an excuse for my going and coming at all
times. Your valiant pagehood will make such explanation as many seem sufficing."
"' I shall make my will a sufficient excuse if I am interrogated,' said the haughty young man.  "6 Yet I will
avoid interruption, if possible. The moon is quite obscured, and the road as black as a wolf's mouth.'"
"; Tut," said the physicianer, " let not your valour care
for that; we shall tread darker paths ere it be long."
Wilhout inquiring into the meaning of these evil-boding
sentences, and indeed hardly listening to them, in the
pride and recklessness of his nature, the page of Ramorny
parted from his ingenious and dangerous companion; and
each took his own way.




94            ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
CHAPTER VI1i.
" The course of true love never did run smooth."
Shalcspeare.
THE ominous anxiety of our armourer had not played
him false. When the good Glover parted with his intend.
ed son-in law, after the judicial combat had been decided,
he found, what he indeed had expected, that his fair
daughter was in no favourable disposition towards hei
lover. But although he perceived that Catharine was
cold, restrained, collected, had cast away the appearance
of mortal passion, and listened with reserve, implying
contempt, to the most splendid description he could give
her of the combat in the Skinners' Yards, he was determined not to take the least notice of her altered manner,
but to speak of her marriage with his son Henry as a
thing which must of course take place.  At length, when
she began, as on a former occasion, to intimate, that her
attachment to the armourer did not exceed the bounds
of friendship,-that she was resolved never.to marry,that the pretended judicial combat was a mockery of the
divine will, and of human laws, —the Glover not unnaturally grew angry.
"' I cannot read thy thoughts, wench; nor call I pretend to guess under what wicked delusion it is that you
kiss a declared lover, —suffer him to kiss you,-run to
his house when a report is spread of his death, and fling
yourself into his arms when you find him alone.-All
this shows very well in a girl prepared to obey her parents in a match sanctioned by her father; but such
tokens of intimacy, bestowed on one whom a young woman cannot esteem, and is determined not to marry, are
uncomely and unmaidenly.  You have already been
more bounteous of your favours to Henry Smith, than
your mother, whom God assoilzie, ever was to me before




ST. VYALENTINE'S DAY.             95
I married her.  I tell thee, Catharine, this trifling with
the love of an honest-man, is what I neither can, will, nor
ought to endure.  I have given my consent to the match
and I insist it shall take place without delay; and that
you receive Henry Wynd to-morrow, as a man whose
bride you are to be with all despatch."
c; A power more potent than yours, father, will say no,"
replied Catharine.
"I will risk it; my power is a lawful one, that of a
father over a child, and an erring child," answered her
father:.  " God and man allow of my influence."
" Then, may Heaven help us!" said Catharine; "for
if you are obstinate in your purpose, we are all lost."
" We can expect no help from  Heaven," said the
Glover, C" whien we act with indiscretion.  I am clerk
enough myself to know that; and that your causeless resistance to my will is sinful, every priest will inform you.
Ay, and more than that, you have spoken degradingly ol
the blessed appeal to God in the combat of ordeal. Talke
need! for the holy Church is awakened to watch her
sheepfold, and to extirpate heresy by fire and steel; so
much I warn thee of."
Catherine uttered a suppressed exclamation; and, with
difficulty compelling herself to assume an appearance of
composure, promised her father, that if he would spare
her any farther discussion of the subject till to-morrow
morning, she would then meet him, determined to make
a full discovery of her sentiments.
With this promise, Simon Glover was obliged to remain contented, though extremely anxious for the postponed explanation. It could not be levity or fickleness
of character which induced lii~ daughter to act with so
much apparent inconsistency towards the man of his
choice, and whom she had so lately unequivocally owned
to be also the man of her own. What external force
there could exist, of a kind powerful enough to clhange
the resolutions she had so decidedly expressed within
twenty-four hours, was a matter of complete mystery.




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
"6 But I will be as obstinate as she can be," thought
the Glover, " and she shall either marry Henry Smith
without farther delay, or old Simon Glover will know an
excellent reason to the contrary."
The subject was not renewed during the evening; but
early on the next morning, just at sunrising, Catharine
knelt before the bed in which her parent still slumbered.
Her heart sobbed as if it would burst, and her tears fell
thick upon her father's face. The good old man awoke,
looked up, crossed his child's forehead, and kissed her
affectionately.
6" I understand thee, Kate," he said; "thou art come
to confession, and, I trust, art desirous to escape a heavy
penance by being sincere."
Catharine was silent for an instant.
"; I need not ask, my father, if you remember the Carthusian monk, Clement, and his preachings and lessons;
at which indeed you assisted so often, that you cannot
be ignorant men called you one of his converts, and with
greater justice termed me so likewise?"
" I am aware of both," said the old man, raising himself on his elbow;'" but I defy foul fame to show that
I ever owned him in any heretical proposition, though I
loved to hear him talk of the corruptions of the church, the
misgovernment of the nobles, and the wild ignorance of
the poor, proving, as it seemed to me, that the sole virtue
of our commonweal, its strength, and its estimation, lay
among the burgher craft of the better class, which I received as comfortable doctrine, and creditable to the town.
And if he preached other than right doctrine, wherefore
did his superiors in the Carthusian convent permit it? If
the shepherds turn a wolf in sheep's clothing into the
flock, they should not blame the sheep for being worried."
6 They endured his preaching, nay, they encouraged
it," said Catharine, " while the vices of the laity, the
contentions of the nobles, and the oppression of the poor,
were the subject of his censure, and they rejoiced in the
crowds, who, attracted to the Carthusian church, forsook
those of the other convents.  But the hypocrites-for




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.                97
such they are-joined with the other fraternities in accusing their preacher Clement, when, passing from censuring
the crimes of the state, he began to display the pride,
ignorance, and luxury of the churchmen themselves;
their thirst of power, their usurpation over men's consciences, and their desire to augment their worldly wealth."9
"For God's sake, Catharine," said her father, " speak
within doors; your voice rises in tone, and your speech
in bitterness, —your eyes sparkle. It is owing to this zeal
in what concerns you no more than others, that malicious
persons fix upon you the odious and dangerous name of
a heretic."
6" You know I speak no more than what is truth," said
Catharine, "a and which you yourself have avouched often."
" By needle and buckskin, no!" answered the Glover,
hastily;'" would'st thou have me avouch what might cost
me life and limb, land and goods? For a full commission
hath been granted for taking and trying heretics, upon
whom is laid the cause of all late tumults and miscarriages; wherefore, few words are best, wench.  I am
ever of mind with the old Maker, —
" Since word is thrall, and thought is free,
Keep well thy tongue, I counsel thee.'"13
" The counsel comes too late, father," answered Catharine, sinking down on a chair by her father's bedside.
" The words have been spoken and heard; and it is indited against Simon Glover, burgess in Perth, that he hath.
spoken irreverent discourses of the doctrines of holy
Church  -"
"6 As I live by knife and kneedle," interrupted Simon,
"it is a lie! I never was so silly as to speak of what I
understood not."
" And hath slandered the anointed of the Church,
both regular and secular," continued Catharine
" Nay, I will never deny the truth," said the Glover;
an idle word I may have spoken at the ale-bench, or
9  vol  li.




t98&          ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
ovei a pottle pot of wine, or in right sure company; but
else, my tongue is not one to run my head into peril."
So you think, my dearest father; but your slightest
language has been espied, your best meaning phrases have
been perverted, and you are in dittay as a gross railer
against church and churchmen, and for holding discourse
against them  with loose and profligate persons, such as
the deceased Oliver Proudfute, the Smith Henry of the
Wynd, and others, set forth as commending the doctrines
of Father Clement, whom they charge with seven rank
heresies, and seek for with staff and spear, to try him to
the death.-But that," said Catharine, kneeling, and looking upwards, with the aspect of one of those beauteous
saints whom the Catholics have given to the fine arts,"' that they shall never do. He hath escaped from the net
of the fowler; and, I thank Heaven, it was by my means."
" Thy means, girl-art thou mad?" said the amazed
Glover.
"' I will not deny what I glory in," answered Catharine 
"; it was by my means that Conachar was led to come
hither with a party of men, and carry off the old man,
who is now far beyond the Highland line."
0' O my rash —my unlucky child!'9 said the Glover 
CC hast thou dared to aid the escape of one accused of
heresy, and to invite Highlanders in arms to interfere with
the administration of justice within burgh? Alas! thou
hast offended both against the laws of' the church and
those of the realm.  What-what would become of us,
wvere this known!9'' It is known, my dear father, " said the maiden, firmly;': known even to those who will be the most willing
avengers of the deed.";" This must be some idle notion, Catharine, or some
trick of those cogging priests and nuns; it accords not
itll thy late cheerful willingness to wed Henry Smith."
" Alas! dearest father, remember the dismal surprise
occasioned by his reported death, and the joyful amazement at finding him alive; and deem it net wonder if I
permitted myself, under yourl protection, to say more than




ST. VALENTINE'S -DAY.                 99
my reflection justified.  But then, I knew not thie worst,
and thought thle danger exaggerated.  Alas  I was yesterday fearfully undeceived, when the Abbess hers~eh
came hither, and with her the Dominican.  They showed
me the commission, under the broad seal of Scotland, for
inquiring into and punishing heresy; they showed me
your namne, and my own, in a list of suspected persons 
and it was with tears, real tears, that the Abbess conjured
me to avert a dreadful fate, by a speedy retreat into the
cloister; and that the monk pledged his wordl that you
should not be molested, if I complied."'
6 The foul fiend take them both for weeping  crocodiles!" said the Glover.
4 Alas!" replied Catharine, GC complaint or anger will
little help us; but you see I have had real cause for this
present alarm."
"C Alarm! call it utter ruin.-Alas! my reckless child,
where was your prudence when you ran headlong into
such a snare?'
6G Hear me, father," said Catharine   " there is still
one mode of safety held out; it is one which I have often
proposed, and for which I have in vain supplicated your
permission,"''I I understand you-the  convent," said her father.
"But, Catharinle, what abbess or prioress would d-are-"' That I will explain to you fatller, and it wviil also
show the circumstances whilchl have made  me seemn unsteady of resolution to a degree which has brought cen —
sure upon me from yourself and others.  Our confessor,
old Father Francis, whomln   chose fiom  the Dominican.
convent at your commanld-  9
6C Ay, truly,"  interrupted the Glover 9    and I so
counselled and commanded thee, in order to take off the
report that thy conscience was altogetler under the direction of Father Clement."
6 WVell, this Father Francis has at (cifferent tines urged
and provoked me to converse on such matters as hle ijudged
I was likely to learn somlething  f from  the CalrthusiaS-i
preacher.  H.leaven forgoiv-e me my blindness I I feill into




1 00           ST. VALEINTINE S DA3Y'.
lihe snare, spoke freely, and, as le argued gently, as one
wi-ho would fain be convinced, I even  spoke warmly in
defence of what I believed devoutly.  The confessor assulied not his real aspect, and betrayed not his secret purpose, until lie had learned all that I had to tell him.  It
was then that lhe threatened me with temporal punishment,
and with eternal condemnation.  Had his threats reached
me alone, I could have stood firm; for their cruelty on
earth I could have endured, and their power beyond this
life I have no belief in."
I  For -eaven's sake!"9 said tile Glover, who was wellnilgh beside himself at perceiving at every new word the
increasing  extremity of his daughter's danger, "1 beware
of blaspheming the holy Churclh —whose arms are as
prompt to strike as her ears are sharp to hear."';; To me," said thle MAcid of Perth, again looking up,; thle terrors of the threatened denunciations would have
7been of little avail; but when they spoke of involving
thee, my!ither, in the charge against me, I own I trembled,
and desired to compromise.  The Abbess Martha, of Elchlo nunnery, being mrly mother's kinswoman, I told her my
distresses, and obtained her promise that she would receive
me, if renouncing worldly love and thoughts of wedlock,
I would take the veil in her sisterhood.  She had conversationl on thel topic, I doubt not, with the Dominican
Francis, and both joined in singinlg the same song.   RemIain in the world,' said they,' and thy father and thou
slall be brought to trial as heretics-assume the veil, aund
the errors of both shall be forgiven and cancelled.' They
spoke not even of recantation of ervors of doctrine; all
should be peace if I would but enter the convent."
"' doubt not-I doubt not," said Simon; " the old
Glover is thought rich, and his wealth would follow his
datlghter to thle convent of Elcho, unless what the Dominicans nighlit claimn as their own share.  So this was thy
call to tile veil-these thy objections to Henry Wynd?'9
a' indeed, father, t\he course was urged on all hands,
lnor did my ownL mind recoil froum it. Sir John Ramilorlny.' eatae nd:l me with the powerful vengeance of the young




ST. VAILENTINLJ' S DAY.            101
Prince, if I continued to repel his wicked suit-and as
for poor Henry, it is but of late that I have discovered,
to my own surprise-that —that I love his virtues mnore
than I dislike his faults.  Alas! the discovery has only
been made torendermy quitting the world more difficult
than when I thought I had thee only to regret.9'
She rested her head on her hand, and wept bitterly.
" All this is folly," said the Glover.  1" Never was
there an extremity so pinching, but what a wise man might
find counsel if lie wvas daring enough to act upon it.  This
has never been the land or the people over whom priests
could rule in the name of Rome, without their usurpation
being controlled.  If they are to punish each honest
burgher who says the monks love gold, and that the lives
of some of them cry shame upon the doctrines they teach,
why truly, Stephen Smotherwell wil not lack employment
-and if all foolish inaidens are to be secluded fiom the
world, because they follow the erring doctrines of a popular preaching friar, they must enlarge the nunneries, and
receive their inmates on slighter composition.  Our privileges have been often defended against the Pope himself,
by our good monarchs of yore, and when he pretended
to interfere with the temporal government of the kingdom,
there wanted not a Scottish Parliament, who told him his
duty in a letter that should have been written in letters of
gold.  I have seen the epistle myself, and though I could
not read it, the very sight of the seals of the right rererend prelates, and noble and true barons, which huilg at it,
made my heart leap for joy.  Thou should'st not have
kept this secret, my child; but it is no time to tax tee
with thy fault.   Go down, get me some food,  I -will
mount instantly, and go to our Lord Provost, and have his
advice, and, as I trust, his protection and that of other
truehearted Scottish nobles, who will not see a trule nman
trodden down for an idle wxord."
"C Alas, my father," said Catharine, "1 it was eveii this
impetuosity which I dreaded.   I knew  if I made my
plaint to you there would soon be fire and feud, as if re9V *OL. I1o




102              53Ts. VATLENTINF;  S DAY.
ligion, though sent to us by the Father of peace, were fit
Donly o be the mother of discord —and hence I could now
~ —ce:cV   now —give up the world, and retire with my sorro'w among the sisters of Elcho, would you but let me be
the sacrifice.  Only, father —comfort poor Henry when
we are narted forever —and do not-do not let hllim thlink
ofi me too harshly —Say Catharine will never vex him
more by her rernonstrances, but that she will never forget
lin 5n her prayers."
lThe girl lhath a tongue that would make a Saracen
re ep,"  said her father, his own eyes sympathizing   with
tlhose of his daughter.  6 But I will not yield way to this
combination between the nun and the priest, to rob me of
my only child.- Away with you, girl, and let me donr
my clothes; and prepare  yourself to obey me in what I
ay hlave to recommend for your safety.   Get a few
clothlis together, and what valuables thou hast-also, take
the keys of my iron box, which poor FHenry Smith gave
lie, and divide what gold you find into two portions,-put
lite one into a purse for thyself, and the other into the
cquilted girdle which I made on purpose to wear on journeyso  Ihus hothl slhall be provided, in case fate should
suinder us } in wlhicl event, God send the whirlwind may
takel the witlhered leaf, and spare the green one! Let
thein make ready my horse instantly, and the white jennet
that I bough t ior tllee but a day since, hoping to see thee
ride to St. John's Kirlk withl maids and matrons, as blithe
a 13ride as ever crossed the holy threshold.  But it skills
not talking — P Away,9 and remember th.a.t tLhe sain ts a help those
}ho1 are willing to help them-selves. Not a word in answer
—.begone, i scay, —-no wilfln-ess -now.  The pilot, in calm
wea ter, will let a sea-boy triftle with the rudder; but, by
my soul, when winds howl, and waves arise, he stands by
tloe Ielm himself.  Away; no reply.9
Catharine left the room  to execute, as well as she
mni hlt the commands of her father, who, gentle in disposition, and  devotedly attached to his child, suffered her
often as it seemed, to ruide and rule both herself and
hiln; yept who as she k1inew, Nwas wont to claim filial obell




ST. YALENTINE'S DAY.               103
Jience, and exercise parental authority, with sufficient
sirictlness, when the occasion seemed to require an enfbreement of domestic discipline.
Whiiie the fair Catharine was engaged in executing her
father's bellest., and thle good old Glover  was hastily attiring,
himself, as one wlho was about to take a journey, a horse's
tramnp was heard in the narrow  street.  The horseimana
was wrapped in his riding cloak, having the cape of' it
drlawn up as if to hide the under part of his face, while
his bonnet was pulled over his brows, andn  a blroad plume
oibscuired his upper features. I-le sprung from the saddle,
and Dorothy had scarce time to reply to his inquiries thlat
the Glover was in his bedroom, ere the stranger hadi ascended the stair and entered the sleeping apartment.  Si1mun, astonished and alarmed, and disposed to see in this
early visitant an apparitor or sumner, come to attach hinm
anid his daughter, was much relieved, when, as tile stranger doffed the bonnet, and threw the skirt of the mantle
firom his face, lie recognised the knightly Provost of the. air City, a visit fiom  whom, at any time, was a favour
of no ordinary degree; but being made at such an hour,
bhad something marvellous, and, connected with the circuistances of the times, even alarming.
~ Sir Patrick Charteris?"-said the Glover-" this
high honour done to your poor beadsman-.'"
"' Hush!" said the Knight, " there is no time for idle
civilitieso  I came hither, because a man is in trying occasions, his own safest page, and I can remlain no longer
than to bid thee fly, good Glover, since warrants are to be
granted this day in council for the arrest of thy daughter
and thee, under charge of heresy; and delay will cost
you both your liberty for certain, and perhaps your lives."'
I have have heard something of such a matter," said the
Clover, "' and was this instant setting forth to Kinfauns,
to plead my innocence of this scandalous charge, to ask
your lordship's counsel, and to implore your protectiono"
6 Thy innocence, friend Simon, will avail thee but little
before prejudiced judges; my advice is, in one word, to
dly, and wait for happier times.  As for my protectieo,




104          ST. VAL.ENTINE S DAY.
tve maust tarry till the tide turns ere it will in any sort avail
thee.  But if thou canst lie concealed for a few days or
weeks, I have little doubt that the churchmen, who, by
siding with the Duke of Albany in court intrigue, and
by alleging the decay of the purity of Catholic doctrine
as the sole cause of the present national misfortunes, have,
at least for the present hour, an irresistible authority over
the King, will receive a check.  In the meanwhile, however, know that King Robert hath not only given way to
this general warrant for inquisition after heresy, but hath
confirmed the Pope's nomination of Henry Wardlaw, to
be Archbishop of St. Andrews, and Primate of Scotlandhl
thus yielding to Rome those freedoms and immunities ot
the Scottish church, which his ancestors, from  the time
of Mlalcolm  Canmore, have so boldly defended.  His
brave fathers would have rather subscribed a covenant
with the devil, than yielded in such a matter to the pretensions of Rome."' Alas, and what remedy?"
N' None, old man, save in some sudden court change,"
said Sir Patrick.  " The King is but like a mirror, which,
having no light itself, reflects back with equal readiness
any which is placed near to it for the time.  Now, although the Douglas is banded with Albany, yet the Earl
is unfavourable to the high claims of those domineering
priests, lhaving quarrelled with them about the exactions
which his retinue hath raised on the Abbot of Arbroath.
HI-e will come back again with a high hand, for report
says, the Earl of March hath fled before himn.  When he
returns we shall have a changed world, for his presence
will control Albany; especially, as many nobles, and I
myself, as I tell you in confidence, are resolved to league
with him to defend the general right.  Thy exile, therefore, will end with iris return to our court.  Thou hast
but to seek thee some temporary hiding-place.":' For that, my lord," said the Glover,'" I can be at
no loss, since I have just title to the protection of the
high Highland Chief, Gilchrist Maclan, Chief of tlhe
Clan Q-Lhele."




ST. VALENTINE'   S DAY.e          105;' Nay, if thou canst take hold of his mantle thou needst
no help of any one else-neither lowland churehman nor
layman finds a free course of justice beyond the Highlandi
frontier."
" But then my child, noble sir-my Catharine?" said
the Glover.
i: Let her go with thee, man.  The graddan cake will
keep her white teeth in order, the goat's whey will make
the blood spring to her cheek again, which these alarms
have banished; and even the Fair Maiden of Perth may
sleep soft enough on a bed of Highland breckan."
"' It is not from such idle respects, my lord, that I hIesitate," said the Glover.  " Catharine is the daughter of
a plain burgher, and knows not nicety of food or lodging.
But the son of Maclan bath been for many years a guest
in my house, and I am obliged to say, that I have observed him  looking at my daughter (who is as good as a
betrothed bride) in a manner, that, though I cared not
for it in this lodging in Curfew Street, would give me
sonie fear of consequences in a Highland glen, where I
have no fiiend, and Conachar many."' The knightly Provost replied by a long whistle.-'  Whlew! whew!-Nay, in that case I advise thee to
send her to the nunnery at Elcho, where the Abbess, if I
forget not, is some relation of yours.  Indeed she said so
herself, adding, that she loved her kinswoman well, together with all that belongs to thee, Simon.";; Truly, my lord, I do believe that the Abbess bath so
much regard for me, that she would willingly receive the
trust of my daughter, and my whole goods and gear into
hler sisterhood —Marry, her affection is something of a
tenacious character, and would be loath to unloose its
hold, either upon the wench or her tocher."
W' hewv-whew!" again whistled the KnightofKinfauns.
tI By the Thane's Cross, man, but this is an ill-favoured
pirn to wind. Yet it shall never be said the fairest nmaid
in the Fair City was cooped up in a convent, like a klinhen in a cavey, and she about to be married to the bold




10>6            SrT VALENTINE;S   13 DAY.
burgess Henry Wiynd.  That tale shall not be told while
I wear belt and spurs, and anm called Provost of Perth."
~ But what reinede, my lord?" asked thle Glover.
W We must all take our share of the risk.  Come, etn
you and your daughter presently to horse. You shall ritie
with me, and we'll see who dare gloom at you.   the
summons is not yet served on thee, and if they send an
apparitor to Kinfauns, wvithout a warrant under thie Kitns
own hand, I make mine avow, by the Red Rover's soWl!
thMat he shall eat his writ, both wax and wether-skin.   To
horse, to horse! and," addressing Cathlariine,     as she enltoied at thle momlent,   you too 11y I)pretty lmalid,
To horse, and fear not for your quarters;
They thrive in law that trust inA Charters."
In a minute or two the father and daughter were on
horseback, both keeping an arrow's flight before the Provost, by his direction, that they might not seem to be of
the same company.   They passed the eastern gate in
somne haste and rode forward roundly until they were out
of sight.  Sir Patrick followed leisurely; but when he
was lost to the view of the warders, he spurred his mrettled horse, and soon came up with the Glover and Cathairinne, when a conversation  ensued whiCh throws light
upon some previous passages of this history.
C HAPTER IX.
Hail, laind of bowmen! seed of those who scorn'd
To stoop the neck to wide imperial RomeO dearest half of Albion sea-walled t
Albania (1737.)
"I HAVE  been devising a mode," said the well-imieaning
Provost, s" by whiclh I may make you both secure for a
week or two, fromn the malice of your enemies, when I
nave little doubt I may see a changed  world at court.
But that I may the better judge what is to be done, tell
me frankly, Simon, the nature of your connexion with
Gilchrist MacIan, which leads you to repose such implicit




ST. VALENTINE S DA.Y,               107
confidence in him.  You are a close observer of thle rules
of the city, and are aware of the severe penalties which
they denounce against such burghers as have covine and
alliance with the Highland clans."
" True, my lord; but it is also known to you, that our
craft, working in skins of cattle, stags, and every other
description of hides, have a privilege, and are allowed to
transact with those Highlanders, as with the men who catn
mlost readily supply us with the means of' conducting our
trade, to the great profit of the burgh. Thus it hath chanced with me to have great dealings with these menerl; and
I can take it on my salvation, that you nowvlhere find  ore
just and honourable traffickers, or tly vlhomL a man-  may
more easily make an honest penny.  I have made in my
day several distant journeys into the far Hiighlands, upon
the faith of their chiefs; nor did I ever meet with a people more true to their word, svhen you can once prevail
upon them to plight it in your behalf.   And as for thle
Highland Chief; Gilchrist Maclan, saving that lihe is hasty
in homicide and fire-raising towards those with iwhom  he
hath deadly feud, I have nowhere seen a man who walketh a more just and upright path."
l' It is more than ever I heard before,"' said Sir Patrick
Charteris.  "6 Yet I have known something of the Highland runagates too."
11 They show another favour, and a very different one,
to their fiiends than to their enemies, as your lordship
shall understand, " said the Glover.  66 However, be that
as it may, it chanced me to serve Gilchrist Maclan in a
high matter.  It s now about eighteen years since, that it
chanced, the Clan Quhele and Clan Chattan being at feud,
as indeed they are seldom at peace, the iformer sustained
such a defeat, as well nigh extirpatec  the family of their
chief, Maclan.  Seven of his sons were slain in battle
and after it, himself put to flight, and his castle taken and
given to the flames.  His wife, then near the time of gEving birth to an infant, fled into the forest, attended by one
faithlful servant and his daughter.  Here, in sorrow and
tare enough, she gave birth to a boy; and as the misery




108           ST. ~ALE ENTIN'S DAY.
of the mother's condition rendered her little able to suckle
the infant, he was nursed with the milk of a tloe, which
the forester who attended her contrived to take alive in a
snare. It was not many months afterwards, that, in a second encounter of these fierce clans, AIaclan defeated his
enemies in his turn, and regained possession of the district which he had lost. It was with unexpected rapture,
that he found his wife and child were in existence, having
never expected to see more of them  than the bleached
bones, from which the wolves and wild-cats had eaten the
flesh.' But a strong and prevailing prejudice, such as is
often entertained by these wild people, prevented their
Chief fiom enjoying the full happiness arising from having
thus regained his only son in safety.  An ancient prophecy was current among them, that the power of the tribe
should fall by means of a boy born tinder a bush of holly,
and suckled by a white doe.  The circumstance, unfortunately for the Chief, tallied exactly with the birth of
the only child which remained to him, and it was demanded of him  by the elders of the clan, that the boy
should be either put to death, or at least removed from
the dominions of the tribe, and brought up in obscurity.
Gilchrist Maclan was obliged to consent; and having
made choice of the latter proposal, the child, under tle
name of Conachar, was brought up in my family, with the
purpose, as was at first intended, of concealing firom him
all knowledge w-ho or what he was, or of his pretensions
to authority over a numerous and warlike people.  But
as years rolled on, the elders of the tribe, who had exerted
so much authority, were removed by death, or rendered
incapable of interfering in the public affairs by age; while,
on the other hand, the influence of Gilchrist Maclan was
increased by his successful struggles against the Clan
Chattan, in which he restored the equality betwixt the
two contending confederacies, which had existed before
the calamitous defeat of which I told your honour.
Feeling himself thus firmly seated, he naturally became
desirous to bring home his only son to his bosom  and




ST. V&ALENTINE TS DAY.             109
family; and for that purpose, caused me to send the
younlg Conachar, as lie was called, more than once to the
Hiighlands. He was a youth expressly made, by his form
and gallantry of bearing, to gain a father's heart.  At
length, I suppose the lad either guessed the secret of his
birth, or something of it was communicated to him; and
the disgust which the haughty Hieland varlet had always
shown for my honest trade, became more manifest; so
that I dared not so much as lay my staff over his costard,
for fear of receiving a stab with a dirk, as an answer in
Gaelic to a Saxon remark.  It was then I wished to be
well rid of him, the rather that he showed so much devotion to Catharine, who, forsooth, set herself up to wash
the Ethiopian, and teach a wild Hielandman mercy and
morals.  She knows herself how it ended.";; Nay, my father," said Catharine, "' it was surely but
a point of charity to snatch the brand from the burning."
6; But a small point of wisdom," said her father, " to
risk the burning of your own fingers for such an end.What says my lord to the matter?"
l6 My lord would not offend the Fair Maid of Perth,"
said Sir Pcatriek; " and he knows well the purity and
truth of her mind.  And yet I must needs say, that had
this nursling of the doe been shrivelled, haggard, crossmade, and red-haired, like some Highlanders I have
known, I question if the Fair Maiden of Perth would have
bestowed so much zeal upon his conversion; and if Catharine had been as aged, wrinkled, and bent by years, as
the old woman that opened the door to me this morning,
I would wager my gold spurs against a pair' of Highland
brogues, that this wild roe-buck would never have listened to a second lecture.-You laugh, Glover, and Catharine blushes a blush of anger.  Let it pass, it is the way
of the world."'" The way in which the men of the world esteem theii
neighbours, my lord," answered Catharine, with some
spirit.:' Nay, fair saint, forgive a jest,"  said the knight,
10  voL. ii.




f1i10          ST.~T. VA~LENTIN-E S DhAt Y.
i" and thou, Simon, tell us how  this tale ended-witb
Conachar's escape to the Highlands, I suppose?9"
"s With his return thither," said the Glover.  "' There
was, for some two or three years, a felloxv about Perth, a
sort of messenger, who came and went under divers pretences, but was in fact the means of communication between Gilchrist Maclan and his son, young Conachar, or,
as he is now called, Hector.  Fromn this gillie, I learned,
in general, that the banishment of the Dault an Neigh
Dheil, or foster child of the White Doe, was again brought
under consideration of the tribe.  His foster father, Torquil of the Oak, the old forester, appeared with eight
sons, the finest men of the clan, and demanded that the
doom of banishment should be revoked.  He spoke with
the greater authority, as he was himself Taishatar, or a
Seer, and supposed to have communication with the invisible world.   He affirmed that he had performed a
magical ceremony, termed Tin-Egan15by which l-e evoked a fend, from whom he extorted a confession that Conachlar, now  called Eachin, or Hector MacIan, was tihe
only man in the approaching combat between the two hostile clans, who should come off without blood or blemnish.
Hence, Torquil of the Oak argued that the presence of
the -fated person was necessary to ensure the victory.
So much I am possessed of this9' said the forester, I that
unless Eachin fight in his place in the ranks of the Clan
Quhele, neither I, his foster-father, nor any of my eight
soMIns, wTill lift a weapon in the quarrel.'
"7[This speech was received with much alar m; for the
defection of nine men, the stoutest of their tribe, would
be a serious blow, more especially if the combat, as begins to be rumoured, should be decided by a small number from each side.  The ancient superstition concerning
the foster son of the White Doe was counterbalanced by
a.new and later prejudice, and the father took the opportunity of presenting to the clan his long-hidden son, whose
youthlful, but handsome and animated countenance, hauighty carriage, and active limbs, excited the admiration ol
the clansmen, wnho joyfully received him as the heir and




ST. YALENTINE S DtAY.               11
descendant of their Chief, notwithstandin the ominous
piresage attending his birth and nurture.
" From this tale, my lord," continued Simon Glover,
6 your lordship may easily conceive why I myself should
be secure of a good reception among tihe Clan Quliele
and you may also have reason to judge that it would be
very rash in me to carry Catharine thither~ And this,
noble lord, is the heaviest of my troubles."
Y" We shall lighten the load, then,"' said Sir Patrick' and, good Glover, I will take risk for thee and th,J
damsel.  My alliance with the Douglas gives rne sonic
interest with Miarjory, Duchess of Rothsay, his daughter,
the neglected wife of our wilfuil Prince.  Rely on it, goud
Glover, that in her retinue thy daughter will be as seeum e
as in a fenced castle.  The Duchess keeps house now at
Falkland, a castle which the Duke of Albany, to whom it
belongs, has lent to her for her accommodation.  I ca:-,
not promise you pleasure, Fair Maiden; for the Duchess
MIlalajory of Rothsay is unfortunate, and therefore splenetic,
haugghty, and overbearing; conscious of the want of attractive qualities, therefore jealous of those women who
possess them.  But she is firm in faith, and noble in =pirit,
and would fling Pope or prelate into the ditch of  her
castle, who should come to arrest any one under her
protection.   Yout will therefore have absolute safety,
though you may lack comfort."
I" I have no title to more," said Catharine;  c"and deeply
do I feel the kindness that is willing to secure me suclh honiourable protection.  If she be haughty, I Nwill remember
she is a Douglas, and hath right, as being such, to entertain
as muchl pride as may become a mortal-if she be fietfil,
I will recollect trhat she is unfortunate-and if she be unreasonably captious, I will not forget that she is my proteetress.   Heed no longer for me, my lord, when you
have placed me under the noble lady's charge.-But my
poor father, to be exposed amongst these wild and dangerous people!"
6'Think not of that, Catharine, " said the Glover; 6 I
am as familiar with brogues and  bracken as if I had worn




1i 1 2         sT. VAi EN 112   N!', S D A Y.
them myself.  I have only to fear that the decisive balttle
may  be fought *before I can leave this country; and ii
the Clan Quhele lose the combat, I may suffer by the ruin
of my protectors."o
"  W\e must have that cared for," said Sir Patrick 
rely on my looking out for your safety.-But which
party will carry tile day, think you?"'" Frankly, my Lord Provost, I believe the Clan Chattan will have the worse; these nine children of the forest form a third nearly of the band surrounding the Chief
of Clan Quhele, and are recoubted champions."
"' And your apprentice, will he stand to it, thinkest
thou?'"' He is hot as fire, Sir Patrick," answered the Glover;
"' but he is also unstable as water.  Nevertheless, if he is
spared, he seems likely to be one day a brave man."'
" But, as now, he has some of the White Doe's milk
still lurking about his liver, ha, Simon?"
"G He has little experience, mny lord,"' said the Glover,
c6 and I need not tell an honoured warrior like yourself,
that danger must be familiar to us ere we can dally with
it like a mistress."
This conversation brought them speedily to the Castle
of Kinfauns, where, after a short refreshment, it was necessary that the fathler and the daughter should part, in
in order to seek their respective places of refuge.  I t was
then first, as she saw that her father's anxiety on her
account had drowned  all recollections of his friend,
that Catharine dropped, as if in a dream, the name of
6 Henry Gow."
" True, most true," continued her father; " we mus
possess him of our purposes."
" Leave that to me,99 said Sir Patrick.   " I will not
trust to a messenger, nor will I send a letter, because, if
I could write one, I think he could not read it. - He wvill
sufler anxiety in the meanwhile, but I will ride to Perth
to-morrow by times, and acquaint him with your designs."'
The tinme of separation no-v approached.  It was a
bitter moment; but the manly character of the old burgh



S'. VA lEENTINES   BAY.            1 13
er, and the devout resignation of. Catharine to the wtill of
Providence, made it lighter than might lhave been expected.  The good knighxt hurried the dep'arture of the burgess, but in the kindest maunner  and even went so far as
to offer him some gold pieces in loainr, whli   might,  where
specie was so scarce, be considered as the,e pius ultra
of regard.   The Glover, however, assured him  lie was
amply provided, and departed on his journey in a northwesterly direction.   The hospitable protection of Sir
Patrick Charteris was no less manifested towards his fair
guest. She was placed under the charge of a dulenna, who
managed the good Knighlt's household, and was compelled
to remain several days in Kinfauns, owing to the obstacles
and  delays interposed by a Tay boatman, named Kitt
Stenshaw, to whose charge she was to be committed, and
whom the Provost highly trusted.
Thus were severed the child and parent in a moment
of great danger and difficulty, much augmented by circurnstances of which they were then ignorant, and which
seemed greatly to diminish any chance of safety that remained Ior them.
CHAPTER X.
" This Austin humnbly did.-' Did lhe?" quoth he.
6 Austin may do the sane ag'api for mie."
POP:E'S Pruolog'ue to Canterbury Tales firor Chaucer.
THE  course of our story will be best pursued by attending  that of Sinon  Glover.    It is not our purpose to indicate tLle exact local boundaries of the two
contending  clans, especially since they are not clearly
pointed out by the ilistorians who lhave transmitted acgounts of this n-em-orable feud.   It is sufficient to say,
that tlhe territery  of te Cl n h a Chattan e-xtended f~ar and
vide, cmlnl h1,Lilo.i......iTCa. iT' -.'ss:and. Suth. rlnrand, and havy
IO' vo    x:




114'T. VAIENTINE')DS DA Y.
ing for their paramount. chief thile powerful Earl of the
latter shire, thence called AIohr ar chat.l6 In this general
sense, the Keiths, thle Sinclairs, the Guns, and other families and clans of great power, were included in the confedelacy.    Thlese, howevr      wvere not engaged in the
ptresent quarrel, whichl was limited to that part of the Clan
Chattan occupying thle extensive mountainous districts of
Perthslhire and Inverness-shire, which form  a large portion. of what is called the northeastern Highlands.  It is
well known that two large septs, unquestionably known to
hbelong to the Clan Chattan, the MacPhersons and the
MIacintoshles, dispute to this day which of their chieftains
was at the head of tjhis Badenoch branch of the great
confederacy, and both have of later times assumed the
title of Captain of Clan Chattan.   Jon nostrum  est —
But, at all events, Ba(lenochl  must have been the centre
of the confederacy, so far as involved in the feud of
Nw-hich lwe treat.
Of lthe rival league of Clan Quhele, we have a still
ess distinct account, for reasons  which  will  appear
in  the sequel.   Some authors have  identified  them
with the numerous and powerful sept of MacKay.  If
tl.is is idone on good authority, whichl is to be doubted, the;'Aael(ays must have shifted their settlements greatly since
tl'- reign c     of  obIe-it 1II.,since they are now to be found
(s a clan) in tile extreme nortlern parts of' Scotland, in
thle countit les o Leoss andt Sutlherlancd.17 TVe cannot, therei re, be so clear as we wVoulld wish in tlhe geogr.phy  of
he Sto01y.  SLufice it, tlihat directinecg hi's course in a norlhwvesterly direction, the Glover tiavelled for a day's journey i  thle direction   of thle 1Breadalbane country, from
whichl lie hoped to reach  the Castle whlere Gilchrist Alac=
iln, thle captain of the Clan  tuliele, and the father of his
pupil Conachlar, usually held his 5residence, with a barlbarous pomp of attendance and ceremlonial suited to his
1o.ly pr etcnIs;ions''e neeL   not  po,, t-o dnescribe tile toil and  telrror s of
Siu.ch a journey, where the path -was to be traced among




ST. VALENTINE S DrY.               115
wastes and mountains, now ascending precipitous ravines,
now plunging into inextricablle bogs, and often intersected
with large brooks, and even rivers.  But all these perils
Simon Glover had before encountered, in quest of honest
gain; and it was not to be supposed that he shunned or
feared them wilere liberty, and life itself, were at stake.
The danger firom the warlike and uncivilized inlhabitants
of these wilds, would have appeared to another at least
as bormidable as the perils of the journey.  But Simon's
knowledge of the manners and language of the people
assured him on this point also.  An appeal to the hospitality of the wildest Gael, was never unsuccessful; and
the kern, that in other circumstances would have taken a
man's life for the silver button of his cloak, would deprive
himself of a meal to relieve the traveller who implored hospitality at the door of his bothy. The art of travelling in
the Highlands was to appear as confident and defenceless as
possible; and accordingly the Glover carried no arms whatever, journeyed without the least appearance of precaution,
and took good care to exhibit nothing which might excite
cupidity. Another rule which he deemed it prudent to observe, was to avoid communication with any of the passengers whom he might chance to meet, except in the
interchange of the common civilities of salutation, which
the I4ighlanders rarely omit.  Few opportunities occurred of exchanging even such passing greetings.  The
country, always lonely, seemed -iow entirely ftrsaken 
and even in the little straths or valleys which lhe had occasion to pass or traverse, the hamlets were deserted, and
the inhabitants had betaken themselves to woods and
caves.  This was easily accounted for, considering the
imminent dangers of a feud, which all expected would
beconme one of the most general signals for plunder and
ravage that had ever distracted that unhappy country.
Simon began to be alarmed at this state of desolation.
He had made a halt since he left Kinfaiuns, to allow lis
nag some rest; and nowv le began to be anxious how he
was to pass the night. lHe had reckoned upon spending
tt at the cottage of an old acquaintance, called Niel Boo



11 6          STg. VALhENTINE ~S DAY.
slhalloch, (or the Cow-herd,) because he had charge of
numerous herds of cattle belonging to the Captain of Clan
Qullele, fobr which purpose he had a settlement on the
banks of the rTay, not far from  the spot where it leaves
tile lake of the same name.  From this his old host and
friend, with whom he had transacted many bargains for
hides and furs, the old Glover hoped to learn the present
state of the country, the prospect of peace or war, and
the best measures.to be taken for his own safety.  It will
be remembered, that the news of the indentures of battle
entered into for diminishing the extent of the feud, had
only been communicated to King Robert the day before
the Glover left Perth, and did not become public till some
time afterwards.
" If Niel Booshalloch bath left his dwelling like the
rest of them, I shall be finely holped up," thought Simon,
"; since I want not only the advantage of his good advice,
but also his interest with Gilchlrist Maclan; and, moreover, a night's quarters and a supper."
Thus reflecting, he reached the top of a swelling green
bill, and saw the splendid vision of Loch Tay lying beneath him, an immense plate of polished silver, its dark!leathy mountains and leafless thickets of oak serving as
an arabesque frame to a magnificent mirror.
Indifferent to natural beauty at any time, Simon Giover
was now particularly so; and the only part of the splendid landscape on which he turned his eye, was the angle
or loop of meadow land, where the river Tay, rushing
in full-swoln dignity from  its parent lake, and wheeling
around a beautiful valley of about a mile in breadth, begins
his broad course to the southeastward, like a conqueror
and a legislator, to subdue and to enrich remote districts.
Upon the sequestered spot, which is so beautifully situ
ated between lake, mountain, and river, arose afterwards
the feudal castle of The Ballough,l8 which in our time
has been succeeded by the splendid palace of the Earls
of Breadalbane.
But the Campbells, though they had already attained
very great power in Argyleshire, had not yet extended




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.             %17.hemselves so far eastward as Loch Tay, the banks of
which were, either by right, or by mere occupancy, possessed for the present by the Clan Quhele, whose choicest
herds were fattened on the margin of the lake.  In this
valley, therefore, between the river and the lake, amid extensive forests of oakwood, hazel, rowen-tree, and larches,
arose the humble cottage of Niel Booshalloch, a village
Eumeus, whose hospitable chimneys were seen to smoke
plentifully, to the great encouragement of Simon Glover,
who might otherwise have been obliged to spend the night
in the open air, to his no small discomfort.
He reached the door of the cottage, whistled, shouted,
and made his approach known.  There was a baying of
hounds and collies, and presently the master of the hut
came forth.  There was much care on his brow, and he
seemed surprised at the sight of Simon Glover, though
the herdsman covered both as well as he might; for nothing in that region could be reckoned more uncivil, than
for the landlord to suffer any thing to escape him, in look
or gesture, which might induce the visiter to think that
his arrival was an unpleasing, or even an unexpected incident.  The traveller's horse was conducted to a stable,
wlbich was almost too low to receive him, and the Glover
himself was led into the mansion of the Booshalloch,
where, according to the custom of the country, bread and
cheese was placed before the wtayfarer, while more solid
food was preparing. Simon, who understood all their habits, took no notice of the obvious marks of sadness on the
brow of his entertainer, and on those of the family, until he
had eaten somewhat for form sake; after wvhich he asked
the general question, Was there any news in the country?
" Bad news as ever were told,' said the herdsman
"* our father is no more."
&" How?"9 said Simon, greatly alarmed, " is the Captain of the Clan Quhele dead?"
1" The Captain of the Clan Quhele never dies," answered the Booshalloch; Ad but Gilchrist Maaclan died
twenety hours since, and his son, Eachin Maclan, is now
Captain."




118            B'P, *1STo. VALE NTINF S DAY.
W' hat, Eachin —that is Conachar-my apprentice?'
6 As little of that subject as you list, brother Simon,"'
said the herdsman.   "1 It is to be remembered, friend
that your craft, which doth very well for a living in the
douce city of Perth, is something too mechanical to be
much esteemed at the foot of' Ben Lawers, and on the
banks of Loch Tay.  We have not a Gaelic word by
which we can even na-me a maker of gloves."
6' It would be strange if you had, friend Niel;"9  aid
Simnon, dryly, " having so few gloves to wear.  I thlink
there be none in tihe whole Clan Q ulele, save those which
I myself gave to Gilchrist MacJIan, whom  God assoilzie,
who esteemed them a choice propine.  Alost deeply do
Ii regret his death, for I was coming to him  on express
business.'' You had better turn the nag's head southward with
morning light," said the herdsman.  " The funeral is instantly to take place, and it must be with short ceremony;
for there is a battle to be fought by the Clan Quhele and
the Clan Chattan, thirty champions on a side, as soon as
Palm  Sunday next, and we have brief time either to lament the dead or honour the living."
~ Yet are my affairs so pressing, that I must needs see
the young Chief, were it but for a quarter of an hour,"
salid the Glover.
C( IHark thee, fiiend," replied his host,'  I think 1;thy
1business must be either to gather money or to make traffic.
Now, if the Chief owe thee any thing Ifr uplbringing 01r
otherwise, ask lirm not to pay it when all the treasures of'
the tribe are called in for making gallant preparation of
arms and equipment for their combatants, that we may
mneet these proud hill-cats in a fashion to show ourselves
their superiors.   But if thou comest topractice commerce
with us, thy time is still worse chosen.  Thou knowest
that thou art alieady envied of many of our tribe, bor havingl had the foicste age of the young Chief, which is a thing
lsually given to t:he best of the clan."'  lt, St.. M -ary, man!" exclaimed the Glover,9' men
F;shel-l reltmember1 tIle oftiee was not conl.ferred on me as a




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              119
favour which I courted, but that it was accepted by me
on importunity and entreaty, to my no small prejudice.
This Conachar, or Hector of yours, or whatever you call
him, has destroyed me doe-skins to the amount of many
pounds Scots."
" There again, now," said the Booshalloch, 6 you have
spoken a word to cost your life; —any allusion to skins or
hides, or especially to deei and does, may incur no less
a forfeit.  The Chief is young, and jealous of his ranl —
none knows the reason better than thou, friend Glover.
He will naturally wish that every thing concerning the
opposition to his succession, and having reference to his
exile, should be totally forgotten; and he will not h-told
him in affection who shall recall the recollection of his
people, or force back his own, upon what they must both
remember with pain.  Think how, at such a moment, they
will look on the old Glover of Perth, to whom the Chief
was so long apprentice!-Come, come, old fiiend, you
have erred in this.  You are in over great haste to worship the rising sun, while his beanms are yet level with the
horizon.  Come thou when he has climbed higIher in the
heavens, and thou shalt have thy share of the warmth of
his noonday height."
"' Niel Booshalloch,'" said the Glover, "' we have been
old fiiends, as thou say'st; and as I think thee a true one,
I wvill speak to thee frieely, though what I say miglht be
perilous if spoken to others of thy clan.  Tlhou think'st
I come hither to make my own profit of thy youlng Chie;,
and it is natural thou should'st tllinl so.  But I would
not, at my years, quit my own chimnney corner in Curfew
Street, to bask me in the beams of the brightest sun that
ever shone upon Highland heather.  The very truth is,
I come hither in extremity-ny foes have the advantage
of me9 and have laid thing;, to my charge whereof I am
incapable, even in thought.  Nevertheless, doolm is like
to go forth against me, and there is no remedy but that I
must up and fly, or remain and perish.  I comle to your
young Chief, as one who had refuge with me in his distress j who ate of my bread and drank of my cup., 




120            ST. VALENTINEg   S DAY.
ask of him  refuge, which, as I trust, I shall need but a
short time.";' That makes a different case," replied the herdsman
So different, that if you came at midnight to the gate
of NMaclan, having the King of Scotland's head in your
hand, and a thousand men in pursuit for the avenging of
his blood, I could not think it for his honour to refuse you
protection.  And for your innocence or guilt, it concerns
not the case, —-or rather, he ought the more to shelter
you if guilty, seeing your necessity and his risk are both
in that case the greater.  I rmust straightway to him, that
no hasty tongue tell him of your arriving hither without
saying the cause."
A''A pity of your trouble," said the Glover; "; but
where lies the Chief?"
I; He is quartered about ten miles hence, busied with
the affhirs of the ifuneral, and with preparations for the
combat-the dead to the grave, and the living to battle."
" It is a long way, and will take you all night to go and
come," said the Glover;'" and I am very sure that Conachar, when he knows it is I who  " —
IForget Conachar," said the herdsman, placing his
finger on his lips.  " And as for the ten miles, they are
but a Highland leap, when one bears a message between
his friend and his Chief."
So saying. and committing the traveller to the charge
of his eldest son and his daughter, the active herdsman
left lhis house two hours before midnight, to which he
returned long before sunrise.  IHe did not disturb his
wearied guest, but when the old man had arisen in tlhe
morning, he acquainted him that the funeral of the late
Chieftain was to take place the same day, and that, al
though Eachin NMacIan could not invite a Saxon to the
funeral, he would be glad to receive hirn at the entertainment which was to follow.
1" His will must be obeyed,"' said the Glover, half smiling at the change of relation between himself and his late
apprentice.' The man is the master now, and I trust
lie will remember, that, when matters were othlerwise
between us, I did not use my authority ungraciously."




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              1u,
Ad Troutsho,  friend!" exclaimed the Booshalloch,
the less of that you say the better.  You will find yourself a right welcome guest to Eachin, and the deil a man
dares stir you within his bounds. But fare you well, for
I must go, as beseems me, to the burial of the best Chief
the clan ever had, and the wisest Captain that ever cocked the sweet gale (bogmyrtle) in his bonnet.  Farewell
to you for awhile, and if you will go to the top of the
Tom-an-Lonach behind the house, you will see a gallant
sight, and hear such a coronach as will reach the top of
Ben Lawers.  A boat will wait for you, three hours hence,
at a wee bit creek about half a mile westward firom the
head of the Tay."
With these words he took his departure, followed by
his three sons, to man the boat in which he was to join
the rest of the mourners, and two daughters, whose
voices  were wanted to join in the Lament, which was
chanted, or rather screamed, on such occasions of general
affliction.
Simon Glover, finding himself alone, resorted to the
stable to look after his nag, which, he found, had been well
served with gradden, or bread made of scorched barley.
Of this kindness he was fully sensible, knowing that,
probably, the family had little of this delicacy left to thcmselves, until the next harvest should bring them a scanty
supply. In animal food they were well provided, and the
lake found them abundance of fish for their lenten diet,
which they did not observe very strictly; but bread was
a delicacy very scanty in the Highlands.  The bogs afforded a soft species of hay, none of the best to be sure,
but Scottish horses, like their riders, were then accustomed to hard fare.  Gauntlet, for this was the name of the
palfrey, had his stall crammed full of dried fern for litter,
and was otherwise as vwell provided for as Highland hospitality could contrive.
Simon Glover being thus left to his own painful reflections, nothing better remained, after having seen after the
comforts of the dumb companion of his journey, than to
11 VOL. II.




122           ST. YALENTINE lS DAY.
follow the herdsman's advice; and ascending towards the
top of an eminence called Tom-an-Lonach, or the Knoll
of Yew Trees, after a walk of half an hour he reached
the sunmmit, and could look down on the broad expanse
of the lake, of which the height commanded a noble view.
A few aged and scattered yew trees, of great size, still
vindicated for the beautiful green hill the name attached
to it. But a far greater number had fallen a sacrifice to
the general demand for bow-staves in that wvarlike age,
the bow being a weapon much used by the mountaineers,
though those which they employed, as well as their arrows, were, in shape and form, and especially in efficacy,
far inferior to the archery of merry England.  The dark
and shattered individual yews which remained, were like
the veterans of a broken host, occupying in disorder some
post of advantage, with the stern purpose of resisting to
the last. Behind this eminence, but detached from it,
arose a higher hill, partly covered with copse-wood, partly
opening into glades of pasture, where the cattle strayed,
finding, at this season of the year, a scanty sustenance
among the spring-heads and marshy places, where the
fresh grass began first to arise.
The opposite or northern shore of the lake, presented
a far more Alpine prospect than that upon which the
Glover was stationed.  Woods and thickets ran up the
sides of the mountains, and disappeared among the sinuosities formed by the winding ravines which separated
them from each other; but far above these specimens of
a tolerable natural soil, arose the swart and bare mountains themselves, in the dark grey desolation proper to
the season.
Some were peaked, some broad-crested, some rocky
and precipitous, others of a tamer outline; and the clan
of Titans seemed to be commanded by their appropriate
chieftains-the frowning mountain of Ben Lawers, and
the still more lofty eminence of Ben Mohr, arising high
above the rest, whose peaks retain a dazzling helnet of
snow far into the summer season, and sometimes during
the whole year. Yet the borders of this wild and sylvan
region, where the mountains descended upon the lake,




ST. VALENTINE IS DAY.             123
intimated, even at that early period, many traces of human
habitation.  Hamlets were seen, especially on the northern margin of the lake, half hid among the little glens that
poured their tributary streams into Loch Tay, which, like
many earthly things, made a fair show at a distance, but,
when more closely approached, were disgustful and repulsive, from their squalid want of the conveniences which
attend even Indian wigwams.  They were inhabited by
a race -who neither cultivated the earth, nor cared for the
enjoyments which industry procures.  The women, although otherwise treated with affection, and even delicacy
of respect, discharged all the absolutely necessary domestic labour.  The men, excepting some reluctant use of an
ill-formed plough, or more frequently a spade, grudgingly
gone through, and as a task infinitely beneath them, took
no other employment than the charge of the herds ot
black cattle, in which their wealth consisted.  At all other
times, they hunted, fished, or marauded, during the brief
intervals of peace, by way of pastime; plundering with
bolder license, and fighting with embittered animosity, in
time of war, which, public or private, upon a broader or
a more restricted scale, formed the proper business of
their lives, and the only one which they esteemed worthy
of them.
The magnificent bosom of the lake itself was a scene
to gaze on with delight.  Its noble breadth, with its terrnination in a full and beautiful run, was rendered yet
more picturesque by one of those islets which are often
happily situatedin the Scottishllakes.l9 The ruins upon that
isle, now almost shapeless, being overgrown with wood,
rose, at the time we speak of, into the towers and pinnacles of a priory where slumbered the remains of Sibilla,
daughter of Henry I. of England, and consort of Alexander the First of Scotland. This holy place had been
deemed of dignity sufficient to be the deposit of the remains of the Captain of the Clan Quhele, at least till
times when the removal of the danger, now so imminently
pressing, should permit of his body being conveyed to a




124           ST'. VALENTINE rS DiAY.
distinguishled convent in the north, where he was destined
ultimately to repose with all his ancestry.
A number of boats pushed off from  various points of
the near and more distant shore, many displaying sable
banners, and others having their several pipers in the bow,
who from time to tilme poured forth a few notes of a shrill,
plaintive, and wailing character, and intimated to the
Glover that the ceremony was about to take place.  These
sounds of lamentation were but the tuning as it were of
the instruments, compared with the general wail which
was speedily to be raised.
A distant sound was heard from  far up the lake, even
as it seemed from the remote and distant glens, out of
which the Dochart and the Lochy pour their streams into
Loch Tay.  It was in a wild inaccessible spot, where the
Campbells at a subsequent period founded their strong
fortress of Finlayrigg, that the redoubted commander of
the Clan Quhele drew his last breath; and, to give due
pomp to his funeral, his corpse was now to be brought
down the Loch to the island assigned for his temporary
place of rest.  The fiuneral fleet, led by the Chieftain's
barge, from which a huge black banner was displayed,
llad made more than two-thirds of its voyage ere it was
visible from the eminence on which Simon Glover stood
to overlook the ceremony.  The instant the distant wail
of the coronach was heard proceeding from the attendants
on the funeral barge, all the subordinate sounds of lamentation were hushed at once, as the raven ceases to croak
and the hawk to whistle, whenever the scream of the eagle
is heard.  The boats, which had floated hither and thither
Upon the lake, like a flock of water-fowl dispersing them
selves on its surface, now drew together with an appears
ance of order, that the funeral flotilla might pass onward,
and that they themselves might fall into their proper places.
In the meanwhile the piercing din of the war-pipes became louder and louder, and the cry from the numberless
boats which followed that from which the black banner of
1he Chief was displayed, rose in wild unison up to the
Tom-an-Lonach, from which thile Glover viewed the spec




ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.             125
tacle.  The galley which headed the procession, bore on
Its poop a species of scaffold, upon which, arrayed in
white linen, and with the face bare, was displayed the
corpse of the deceased Chieftain.  His son, and the nearest relatives, filled the vessel, while a great number of
boats, of every description that could be assembled, either
on Loch Tay itself, or brought by land carriage from Loch
Earn and otherwise, followed in the rear, some of them
of very frail materials. There were even curraghs, comnposed of ox-hides stretched over hoops of willow, in the
manner of the ancient British; and some committed themselves to rafts formed for the occasion, from the readiest
materials that occurred, and united in such a precarious
manner as to render it probable, that, before the accomplishment of the voyage, some of the clansmen of the
deceased might be sent to attend their Chieftain in the
world of spirits.
When the principal flotilla came in sight of the smaller
group of boats collected towards the foot of the lake, and
bearing off from the little island, they hailed each other
with a shout so loud and general, and terminating in a
cadence so wildly prolonged, thatnot only the deer started
from their glens for miles around, and sought the distant
recesses of the mountains, but even the domestic cattle,
accustomed to the voice of man, felt the full panic which
the human shout strikes into the wilder tribes, and like
them  fled from their pasture into morasses and dingles.
Summoned forth from their convent by those sounds,
the monks who inhabited the little islet, began to issue
firom its lowly portal, with cross and banner, and as much
of ecclesiastical state as they had the means of displaying;
their bells at the same time, of which the edifice possessed three, pealing the death-toll over the long lake, which
came to the ears of the now silent multitude, mingled with
the solemn chant of the Catholic church, raised by the
monks in their procession.  Various ceremonies were
gone through, while the kindred of the deceased carried.he body ashore, and, placing it on a bank long conse,
11   VOL. HI.




126             ST. VALENTINE 7S DAY.
crlated to the purpose, made the Deasil* around the departed.  When the corpse was uplifted to be borne into the
church, another united yell burst from  the assembled
multitude, in which the deep shout of warriors and the
shrill wail of females, joined their notes with the tremulous
voice of age, and the babbling cry of childhood. The
coronach was again, and for the last time, shrieked, as
the body was carried into the interior of the church,
where only the nearest relatives of the deceased, and the
most distinguished  of the leaders of the clan, were permitted to enter.5s The last yell of woe was so terribly loud,
and answered by so many hundred echoes, that the
Glover instinctively raised his hands to his ears, to shut
out, or deaden at least, a sound so piercing.  He kept his
attitude, while the hawks, owls, and other birds, scared by
the wild scream, had begun to settle in their retreats, when,
as he withdrew his hands, a voice, close by him, said,"' Think you this, Simon Glover, the hymn of penitence
and praise, with which it becomes poor forlorn man, cast
out from his tenement of clay, to be wafted into the preseince of his Maker?"
The Glover turned, and in the old man, with a long
white beard, who stood close beside him, had no difiiculty, from the clear mild eye, and the benevolent cast of
features, to recognise the Carthusian monk, Father Clement, no longer wearing  his monastic habiliments, but
wrapped in a freize mantle, and having a Highland cap
on his head.
It may be recollected that the Glover regarded thiis  an
with a combined feeling of respect and dislike-respect,
which his judgment could not deny to the monk's person
and character, and dislike, which arose from Father Clem
ent's peculiar doctrines being the cause of his daughter's
exile and his own distress.  It was not, therefore, with
sentiments of unmixed satisfaction, that he returned the
* A very ancient custom, which consists in going three times round tle
body of a dead or living person, imploring bl]essings upon hiin. The Deasi.
must be performed sunways, that is, by moving from right to left. If misfortune is imprecated. tle party moves withershins, (Germatn, Wl)DI.iSlNS.)
lhat is, aganstst the sun, fi-om left to right.




ST. VALENTITNI' SE DAY.            127
greetings of the Father, and replied to the reiterated question, what he thought of the funeral rites, which were
discharged in so wild a manner, —' I know not, my good
Father; but these men do their duty to their deceased
Chief according to the fashion of their ancestors; they
mean it to express their regret for their friend's loss, and
their prayers to Heaven in his behalf; and that which is
done of good-will, must, to my thinking, be accepted favourably.  Had it been otherwise, methinks they had ere
now been enligllhtened to do better."
"' Thou art deceived," answered, the Monk.'c God
has sent his light amongst us all, though in various proportions; but man wilfuillly shuts his eyes and prefers
darkness.  This benighted people mingle with the ritual
oC the Roman Church, the old heathen ceremonies of their
own fathers, and thus unite with the abominations of a
church corrupted by wealth and power, the cruel and
bloody ritual of savage Paynims."
6' Father," said Simon, abruptly, " methinks your
presence were more useful in yonder chapel, aiding your
brethren in the discharge of their clerical duties, than in
troubling and unsettling the belief of an humble, though
ig-norant Christian, like myself."
1' And wherefore say, good brother, that I would unfix
thy principles of belief?" answered Clement.  "6 So
Heaven deal with me, as, were my life-blood necessary to
cement the mind of any man to the holy religion he profisseth, it should be freely poured out for the purpose.*"
" Your speech is fair, Father, I grant you,' said the
Glover; " but if I am to judge the doctrine by the firuits,
Heaven has punished me by the hand of the C-hurch, for
having lhearkened thereto.  Ere I heard you, my confessor was little moved, though I might have owned to have
told a merry tale upon the ale-bench, even if a friar or a
nun were the subject.  If at a time I had called Father
Hubert a better hunter of hares than of souls, I confessed
me to the Vicar Vinesauf, who laughed and made me pay
a reckoning for penance-or if I had said that the Vicar
Vinesauf was more constant to his cup than to his brevi



28           sT. VAIENT'rINE S DAY.
ary, I confessed me to Father Hubert, and a new hawk
ing-glove made all well again; and thus I, my comncience
and Mother Church, lived together on terms of peace,
friendship, and mutual forbearance.  But since I have
listened to you, Father Clement, this goodly union is broke
to pieces, and nothing is thundered in my ear but purgatory in the next world, and fire and fagot in this. Therefore, avoid you, Father Clement, or speak to those who
can understand your doctrine.  I have no heart to be a
martyr; I have never in my whole life had courage enough
so much as to snuff a candle with my fingers; and to
speak the truth, I am minded td go back to Perth, sue out
my pardon in the spiritual court, carry my  fagot to the
gallows' foot, in token of recantation, and purchase myself once more the name of a good Catholic, were it at
the price of all the worldly wealth that remains to me."'6 You are angry, my dearest brother," said Clement;
s" and repent you on the pinch of a little worldly danger,
and a little worldly loss, for the good thoughts which you
once entertained."'" You speak at ease, Father Clement, since I think
you have long forsworn the wealth and goods of the world,
and are prepared to yield up your life, when it is demanded, in exchange for the doctrine you preach and
believe. You are as ready to put on your pitched shirt
and brimstone head-gear, as a naked man is to go to his
bed, and it would seem you have not much more reluctance
to the ceremony.  But I still wear that which clings to
me.  Mly wealth is still my own, and I thankl Heaven it is
a decent pittance whereon to live-my life, too, is that of
a hale old man of sixty, who is in no haste to bring it to
a close-and if I were poor as Job, and on the edge oI
the grave, must I not still cling to my daughter, whom
your doctrines have already cost so dear?"'
6 Thy daughter, friend Simon,"' said the Carmelite,'~ may be truly called an angel upon earth."
a Ay; and by listening to your doctrines, Fathem, she
is now like to be called on to be an angel in hear In, and
to be transported thither in a chariot of fire."




ST. VALENTINEE  S DAY.            129
" Nay, my good brother," said Clement, " desist, I
pray you, to speak of what you little understand.  Since
t is wasting time to show thee the light that thou chafest
against, yet listen to that which I have to say touching thy
daughter, whose temporal felicity, though I weigh it not
even for an instant in the scale against that which is spiritual, is, nevertheless, in its order, as dear to Clement
Blair as to her own father."
The tears stood in the old man's eyes as he spoke,
and Simon Glover was in some degree mollified as he
again addressed him.
" One would think thee, Father Clement, the kindest
and most amiable of men; how comes it then that thy
steps are haunted by general ill-will, wherever thou chancest to turn them? I could lay my life thou hast contrived
already to offend yonder half score of poor friars in their
water-girdled cage, and that you have been prohibited
from attendance on the funeral?"'" Even so, my son," said the Carthusian, " and I
doubt whether their malice will suffer me to remain in this
country.  I did but speak a few sentences about the superstition and folly of frequenting St. Fillian's church, to
detect theft by means of his bell-of bathing mad patients
in his pool, to cure their infirmity of mind-and lo! the
persecutors have cast me forth of their communion, as
they will speedily cast me out of this life."
1' Lo you there now," said the Glover, 6 see what it
is for a man that cannot take a warning! Well, Father
Clement, men will not cast me forth unless it were as a
companion of yours. I pray you, therefore, tell me what
you have to say of my daughter, and let us be less neighbours than we have been."
" This then, brother Simon, I have to acquaint you with.
This young Chief, who is swoln with contemplation of his
own power and glory, loves one thing better than it all,
atnd that is thy daughter."
l6 He, Conacher!" exclaimed Simon. " My runagate
apprentice look up to my daughter'"
c" Alas!' said Clement, " how close sits our worldly
)ride, even as ivy clings to the wall, and cannot be sepa



130           ST. VALENTINE S DA Y.
rated!-Look up to thy daughter, good Simon? Alas
no! The Captain of Clan Quhele, great as he is, and
greater as he soon expects to be, looks down to the daughl
ter of the Perth burgess, and considers himself demeaned
in doing so..  But, to use his own profane expression,
Catharine is dearer to him  than life here, and Heaven
hereafter-he cannot live without her."
" Then lhe may die, if he lists,'" said Simon Glover,
" for she is betrothed to an honest burgess of Perth; and
I would not break my word to make my daughter bride
to the Prince of Scotland." 
I I thought it would be your answer,"9 replied the Monk;
6I would, worthy friend, thou could'st carry into thy
spiritual concerns some part of that daring and resolved
spirit with which thou canst direct thy temporal affairs."
"' Hush thee —hush, Father Clement!" answered the
Glover; " when thou fallest into that vein of argument,
thy words savour of blazing tar, and that is a scent I like
not. As to Catharine, I must manage as I can, so as not
to displease tle young dignitary; but well is it for me that
she is far beyond his reach."
" She must then be distant indeed," said the Carmelite.
" And now, brother Simon, since you think it perilous to
own me and my opinions, I must walk alone with my own
doctrines, and the dangers they draw on me.  But should
your eye, less blinded than it now is by worldly hopes and
fears, ever turn a glance back on him, who soon may be
snatched from you, remember, that by nought, save a deep
sense of the truth and importance of the doctrine which
he taught, could Clement Blair have learned to encounter,
nay, to provoke, the animosity of the powerful and inveterate, to alarm the fears of the jealous and timid, to walk
in the world as he belonged not to it, and to be accounted
mad of men, that he might, if possible, win souls to God.
Heaven be my witnelss, that I would comply in all lawful
things, to conciliate the love and sympathy of my fellow
creatures! It is no light thing to be shunned by the worthy
as an infected patient; to be persecuted by the Pharisees
of the day as an unbelieving heretic; to be regarded with




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.                II1
horror at once and contempt by the multitude, who consider
me as a madman, who may be expected to turn mischievous.   But were all those evils multiplied an hundred
fold, the fire within must not be stifled, the voice which
says within me-Speak, must receive obedience.  Woe
unto me if I preach not the Gospel, even should I at
length preach it from amidst the pile of flames!9
So spoke this bold witness; one of those whom Heaven
raised up from time to time, to preserve amidst the most
ignorant ages, and to carry down to those which succeed
them, a manifestation of unadulterated Christianity, from
the time of the Apostles to the age when, favoured by
the invention of printing, the Reformation broke out in full
splendour. The selfish policy of the Glover was exposed
inl his own eyes; and he felt himself contemptible as he
saw the Carmelite turn from him in all the hallowedness
of resignation. He was even conscious of a momentary
inclination to follow the example of the preacher's philanthropy and disinterested zeal; but it glanced like a
flash of lighltning through a dark vault, where there lies
nothing to catch the blaze; and he slowly descended the
hill, in a direction different from that of the Carthusian,
forgetting him and his doctrines, and buried in anxious
thoughllts about his child's fate and his own.
CHAPTER XI.
What want these outlaws conquerors should have,
But History's purchased page to call them great,
A wider space. an ornamented grave?
Their hopes were not less warm, their souls were full as brave.
BYRON.
THE  funeral obsequies being over, the same flotilla
which had proceeded in solemn and sad array down the'ake, prepared to return with displayed banners, and every
demonstration of mirth and joy; for there was but brief
time to celebrate festivals, when the awful conflict betwixt
the Clan Quhele and their most formidable rivals so nearly




132           ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
approached.  It had been agreed  therefore, that th6
funeral feast should be blended w'! that usually given at
the inauguration of the young Chief.
Some objections were made to this arrangement, as
containing an evil omen. But, on the other hand, it had a
species of recommendation, from the habits and feelings
of the Highlanders, who, to this day, are wont to mingle a
degree of solemn mirth with their mourning, and something resembling melancholy with their mirth. The usual
aversion to speak or think of those who have been beloved
and lost, is less known to this grave and enthusiastic race,
than it is to others. You hear not only the young mention
(as is every where usual) the merits and the character of
parents, who have, in the course of nature, predeceased
them; but the widowed partner speaks, in ordinary conversation, of the lost spouse, and, what is still stranger,
the parents allude frequently to the beauty or valour of
the child whom they have interred.  The Scottish Highlanders appear to regard the separation of friends by death,
as something less absolute and complete than it is generally esteemed in other countries, and converse of the dear
connexions who have sought the grave before them, as if
they had gone upon a long journey in which they themselves must soon follow.  The funeral feast, therefore,
neing a general custom  throughout Scotland, was not, in
the opinion of those who were to share it, unseemingly
mingled, on the present occasion, with the festivities which
hailed the succession to the Chieftainship.
The barge which had lately borne the dead to the grave,
now conveyed the young Maclan to his new command;
and the minstrels sent forth their gayest notes to gratulate
Eachin's succession, as they had lately sounded their most
doleful dirges when carrying Gilchrist to his grave. From
the attendant flotilla rang notes of triumph and jubilee,
instead of those yells of lamentation, which had so lately
disturbed the echoes of Loch Tay; and a thousand voices
hailed the youthful Chieftain as he stood on the poop,
armed at all points, in the flower ofearlymanhood,beauty
atl1( activity, on the very spot where his falther's corpse




ST. VALENTINES DAY.               133
had so lately been extended, and surrounded by triumphant firiends, as that had been by desolate mourners.  One
boat kept closest of the flotilla to the honoured galley.
Torquil of the Oak, a grizzled giant, was steersman; and
his eight sons, each exceeding the ordinary stature of
mankind, pulled the oars.  Like some powerful and favourite wolf-hound, unloosed from his couples, and frolicking around a liberal master, the boat of the foster brethren
passed the Chieftain's barge, now on one side, and now on
another, and even rowed around it, as if in extravagance
of joy; while, at the same time, with the jealous vigilance
of the animal we have compared it to, they made it dangerous for any other of the flotilla to approach so near as
themselves, from the risk of being run down by their impetuous and reckless manceuvres. Raised to an eminent
rank in the clan by the succession of their foster-brother
to the command of the Clan Quhele, this was the tumultuous and almost terrible mode in which they testified their
peculiar share in their Chief's triumph.
Far behind, and with different feelings, on the part of
one at least of the company, came the small boat, in which,
manned by the Booshalloch and one of his sons, Simon
Glover was a passenger.
"' If we are bound for the head of the lake," said Simon to his friend, " we shall hardly be there for hours."
But as he spoke, the crew of the boat of the foster
brethren, or Leichtaclhlon a signal from the Chief's galley,
lay on their oars until the Booshalloch's boat came up, and
throwing on board a rope of hides, which Niel made fast
to the head of his skiff, they stretched to their oars once
more; and notwithstanding they had the small boat in
tow, swept through the lake with almost the same rapidity
as before. Tle skiff was tugged on with a velocity which
seemed to hazard the pulling her under water, or the
separation of her head from her other timbers.
Simon Glover saw with anxiety the reckless fuiry of their
course, and the bows of the boat occasionally brought
within an inch or two of the level of the water; and
152  voL. II.




3  ST. VALEINTINE S DAY.
though his friend Niel Booshalloch assured him it was all
Kdone in especial honour, he heartily wished his voyage
Inight have a safe termination. It had so, and much sooner
Lhan he apprehended; for the place of festivity was not
four miles distant from the sepulchral island, being chosen
to suit the Chieftain's course, which lay to the south-east,
so soon as the banquet should be concluded.
A bay on the southern side of Loch Tay presented a
beautiful beach of sparkling sand, on which the boats might
land with ease, and a dry meadow, covered with turf, verdant considering the season, behind and around which rose
high banks, fringed with copsewood, and displaying the lavish preparations which had been made for the entertainmeint.
The Highlanders, well known for ready hatchet-men,
had constructed a long arbour or sylvan banquetting-room,
capable of receiving two hundred men, while a number
of smaller huts around seemed intended for sleeping
apartments.  The uprights, the couples, and rooftree of
the temporary hall, were composed of mountain-pine, still
covered with its bark.  The frame-work of the sides was
of planks or spars of the same material, closely interwoven
with the leafy boughs of the fir and other evergreens, which
the neighbouring woods afforded, while the hills had fuirnislled plenty of heath to form the roof. Within this sylvan
palace the most important personages present were invited
to hold high festival.  Others of less note were to feast in
various long sheds, constructed with less care; and tables
of' sod, or rough planks, placed in the open air, were allotted to the numberless multitude.  At a distance were
to be seen piles of glowing charcoal or blazing wood,
around which countless cooks toiled, bustled, and fretted,
like so many demons working in their native element. Pits,
wrought in the hill-side and lined with heated stones, served
as ovens for stewing immense quantities of beef, mutton,
and venison-wooden spits supported sheep and goats, which
were roasted entire; others were cut into joints and seethed
in cauldrons made of the animal's own skins, sewed hastily
together and filled with water; while huge quantities of




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.             135
pike, trout, salmon, and char, were broiled with more ceremony on glowing embers. The Glover had seen many
a Highland banquet, but never one the preparations for
which were on such a scale of barbarous profusion.
He had little time, however, to admire the scene around
him; for, as soon as they landed on the beach, the Booshalloch observed with some embarrassment, that as they
had not been bidden to the table of the dais, to which he
seemed to have expected an invitation, they had best secure a place in one of the inferior bothies or booths; and
was leading the way in that direction,'when he was stopped by one of the body-guards, seeming to act as master
of ceremonies, who whispered something in his ear.' I thought so," said the herdsman, much relieved,
6 I thought neither the stranger, nor the man that has my
charge, would be left out at the high table."
They were conducted accordingly into the ample lodge,
within which were long ranges of tables already mostly
occupied by the guests, while those who acted as domestics
were placing upon them the abundant though rude materials of the festival. The young Chief, although he certainly saw the Glover and the herdsman enter, did not
address any personal salute to either, and their places
were assigned them in a distant corner, far beneath the
Salt, (a huge piece of antique silver-plate,) the only article
of value that the table displayed, and which was regarded
by the Clan as a species of palladium, only produced and
used on the most solemn occasions, such as the present.
The Booshalloch, somewhat discontented, muttered to
Simon as he took his place-"' These are changed days,
friend.  His father, rest his soul, would have spoken to
us both; but these are bad manners which he has learned
among you Sassenachs in the Low Country."
To this remark the Glover did not think it necessary
to reply, instead of which he adverted to the evergreens,
and particularly to the skins and other ornaments with
which the interior of the bower was decorated.  The
most remarkable part of these ornaments was a number
of Highland shirts of mail, with steel-bonnets, battle-axes,




136           ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
and two-handed swords to match, which hung around
the upper part of the room, together with targets highly
and richly embossed. Each mail shirt was hung over a
well-dressed stag's hide, which at once displayed the armour to advantage, and saved it from suffering by damp.
"These," whispered the Booshalloch, "' are the arms
of the chosen champions of the Clan Quhele. They are
twenty-nine in number, as you see, Eachin himself being
the thirtieth, who wears his armour to-day, else had there
been thirty. And he has not got such a good hauberk
after all, as he should wear on Palm Sunday. These
nine suits of harness, of such large size, are for the
Leichtach, from whom so much is expected."
6' And these goodly deer-hides," said Simon, the spirit
of his profession awakening at the sight of the goods in
which he traded, —" think you the Chief will be disposed to chaffer for them?-they are in demand for the
doublets which knights wear under their armour."'" Did I not pray you," said Niel Booshalloch, " to say
nothing on that subject?9'
"6 lt is the mail shirts I speak of," said Simon,-" may
I ask if any of them were made by our celebrated Perth
armourer, called Henry of the Wynd?"
"s Thou art more unlucky than before," said Niel;
c; that man's name is to Eachin's temper like a whirlwind
upon the lake; yet no man knows for what cause."
I can guess, thought our Glover, but gave no utterance
to the thought; and, having twice lighted on unpleasant
subjects of conversation, he prepared to apply himself;
like those around him, to his food, without starting another
topic.
We have said as much of the preparations as may lead
the reader to conclude that the festival, in respect of the
quality of the food, was of the most rude description,
consisting chiefly of huge joints of meat, which were consumed with little respect to the fasting season, although
several of the friars of the Island Convent graced and hallowed the board by their presence. The platters were ot
wood, and so were the hooped cogues or cups, out of




ST. VALENTINE _S DBAY.             137
which the guests quaffed their liquor, as also the broth or
juice of the meat, which was held a delicacy.  There
were also various preparations of milk which were highly
esteemed, and were eaten out of similar vessels.  Bread
was the scarcest article at the banquet, but the Glover and
his patron Niel were served with two small loaves expressly for their own use.  In eating, as indeed was then
the case all over Britain, the guests used their knives called skenes, or the large poniards named dirks, without
troubling themselves by the reflection that they might occasionally have served different or fnore fatal purposes.
At the upper end of the table stood a vacant seat, elevated a step or two above the floor.  It was covered with
a canopy of holly boughs and ivy, and there rested against
it a sheathed sword and a folded banner.  This had been
the seat of the deceased Chieftain, and was left vacant in
hlonour of him.  Eachin occupied a lower chair on the
right hand of the place of honour.
The reader would be greatly mistaken who should follow out this description, by supposing that the guests behaved like a herd of hungry wolves, rushing upon a feast
rarely offered to them. On the contrary, the Clan Quhele
conducted themselves with that species of courteous
reserve and attention to the wants of others, which is often
found in primitive nations, especially such as are always
in arms; because a general observance of the rules of
courtesy is necessary to prevent quarrels, bloodshed, and
death.  The guests took the places assigned them by
Torquil of the Oak, who, acting as Marischal Taceh, i. e.
sewer of the mess, touched with a white wand, without
speaking a word, the place were each was to sit.  Thus
placed in order, the company patiently waited for the
portion assigned them, which was distributed among them
by the Leichtach; the bravest men, or more distinguished
warriors of the tribe, being accommodated with a double
mess, emphatically called bieyfir, or the portion of a man.
When the sewers themselves had seen every one served,
they resumed their places at the festival, and were each
12*  vOL l-I.




13 8          ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
served with one of these larger messes of food.  Water
"was placed within each man's reach, and a handful of soft
moss served the purposes of a table-napkin, so that, as at
an Eastern banquet, the hands were washed as often as
the mess was changed. For amusement, the bard recited
the praises of the deceased Chief, and expressed the
clan's confidence in the blossoming virtues of his successor. The Seanachie recited the genealogy of the tribe,
which they traced to the race of the Dalriads; the harpers played within, while the war-pipes cheered the multitude without.  The conversation among the guests was
grave, subdued, and civil —no jest was attempted beyond
the bounds of a very gentle pleasantry, calculated only to
excite a passing smile. There were no raised voices, no
contentious arguments;  and Simon Glover had heard a
hundred times more noise at a guild-feast in Perth, than was
made on this occasion by two hundred wild mountaineers.
Even the liquor itself' did not seem to raise the festive
party above the same tone of decorous gravity.  It was
of various kinds-wine appeared in very small quantities,
and was served out only to the principal guests, among
whlich honoured number. Simon Glover was again included.  The wine and the two wheaten loaves were indeed
the only marks of notice which he received during the
feast; but Niel Booshalloch, jealous of his master's reputation for hospitality, failed not to enlarge on them as
proofs of high distinction.  Distilled liquors, since so generally used in the Highlands, were then comparatively
unknown.  The usquebaugh was circulated in small
quantities, and was highly flavoured with a decoction of
saffiron and other herbs, so as to resemble a medicinal potion, rather than a festive cordial.  Cider and mead were
seen at the entertainment, but ale, brewed in great quantities for the purpose, and floxving round without restriction, was the liquor generally used, and that was drunk
with a moderation much less known among the more
modern Highlanders.  A cup to the memory of the deceased Chieftain was the first pledge solemnly proclaimed




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              139
rafter the banquet was finished; and a low murmur ot
benedictions was heard from  the company, while the
monks alone, uplifting their united voices, sung Requiem
ete rnacm dona.  An unusual silence followed, as if something extraordinary was expected, when Eachin arose,
with a bold and manly yet modest grace, and ascended the
vacant seat or throne, saying with dignity and firmness"4 This seat, and my father's inheritance, I claim as my
right —so prosper me God and St. Barr!"' How will you rule your father's children?" said an
old man, the uncle of the deceased.
" I will defend them  with my father's sword, and distribute justice to them under my father's banner."
The old man, with a trembling hand, unsheathed the
ponderous weapon, and holding it by the blade, offered
the hilt to the young Chieftain's grasp; at the same time
To rquil of the Oak unfurled the pennon of the tribe, and
swung it repeatedly over Eachin's head, who, with singular grace and dexterity, brandished the huge claymore as
in its defence.  The guests raised a yelling shout, to testify their acceptance of the patriarchal Chief who claimed
their allegiance, nor was there any who, in the graceful
and agile youth before them, was disposed to recollect the
subject of sinister vaticinations.  As he stood in glittering
mail, resting on the long sword, and acknowledging by
gracious gestures the acclamations which rent the air
within, without, and around, Simon Glover was tempted
to doubt whether this majestic figure was that of the same
lad whom he had often treated with little ceremony, and
began to have some apprehension of the consequences of
having done so. A general burst of minstrelsy succeeded to the acclamations, and rock and greenwood rang to
harp and pipes, as lately to shout and yell of woe.
It would be tedious to pursue the progress of the inaugural feast, or detail the pledges that were quaffed to
former heroes of the clan, and above all to the twenty-nine
brave Gallowglasses who were to fight in the approaching
conflict, under the eye and leading of their young Chief.
The bards, assuming, in old times, the prophetic char



140           ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
acter combined with their own, ventured to assure theni
of the most distinguished victory, and to predict the fury
with which the Blue Falcon, the emblem of the Clan
Quhele, should rend to pieces the Mountain-cat, the wellknown badge of the Clan Chattan.
It was approaching sunset, when a bowl, called the
grace-cup, made of oak, hooped with silver, was handed
round the table as the signal of dispersion, although it
was left free to any who chose a longer carouse to retreat
to any of the outer bothies.  As for Simon Glover, the
Booshalloch conducted him to a small hut, contrived, it
would seem, for the use of a single individual, where a
Led of heath and moss was arranged as well as the season would permit, and an ample supply of such delicacies
a s the late feast afforded, showed that all care had been
taken for the inhabitant's accommodation.
is Do not leave this hut," said the Booshalloch, taking
leave of his firiend and protege; " this is your place of
est.  But apartments are lost on such a night of confusion, and if the badger leaves his hole the tod* will creep
into it."
To Simon Glover this arrangement was by no means
disagreeable.  He had been wearied by the noise of the
day, and felt desirous of repose. After eating, therefore, a morsel, which his appetite scarce required, and
drinking a cup of wine to expel the cold, he muttered
his evening prayer, wrapt himself in his cloak, and lay
down on a couch which old acquaintance had made familiar and easy to him. The hum and murmur, and even
the occasional shouts, of some of the festive multitude
who continued revelling without, did not long interrupt
his repose; and in about ten minutes he was as fast
asleep as if he had lain in his own bed in Curfew Street.
" Tod, Scottice for fox.




ST. VAL;FINTINE IS DAY.           141
CHAPTER XII.
Polonius. Still harping on my daughter.
Hamlet.
Two hours before the black-cock crew, Simon Glover
was wakened by a well-known voice, which called him
by name.
"6 What, Conachar!" he replied, as he started firom
sleep, " is the morning so far advanced?" and raising
his eyes, the person of whom he was dreaming stood before him; and at the same moment, the events of yesterday rushing on his recollection, he saw with surprise
that the vision retained the form which sleep had assigned- it, and it was not the mail-clad Highland Chief, with
claymore in hand, as he had seen him the preceding night,
but Conachar of Curfew Street, in his humble apprentice's garb, holding in his hand a switch of oak. An apparition would not more have surprised our Perth burgher.
As he gazed with wonder, the youth turned upon him a
piece of lighted bog-wood which he carried in a lantern,
and to his waking exclamation replied," Even so, father Simon; it is Conachar, come to renew our old acquaintance, when our intercourse will
attract least notice."
So saying, he sat down on a tressel which answered
the purpose of a chair, and placing the lantern beside
him, proceeded in the most friendly tone.
" I have tasted of thy good cheer many a day, father
Simon-I trust thou hast found no lack in my family?'"
" None whatever, Eachin MacIan," answered  the
Glover,-for the simplicity of the Celtic language and
manners rejects all honorary titles; " it was even too
good for this fasting season, and much too good for me,
since I must be ashamed to think how hard you fared in
Cuirfew  Street."




.42          ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
6 Even too well, to use your own word," said Conathar, "6 for the deserts of an idle apprentice, and for the
wants of a young Highlander.  But yesterday, if there
was, as I trust, enough of food, found you not, good
Glover, some lack of courteous welcome? Excuse it
not, —] know you did so. But I am young in authority
with my people, and I must not too early draw their attention to the period of my residence in the Lowlands,
which, however, I can never forget."
6 I understand the cause entirely," said Simon; " and
therefore it is unwillingly, and, as it were by force, that I
have made so early a visit hitller."
-~ Hush, father, hush! It is well you are come to see
some of my Highland splendour while yet it sparkles —Return after Palm-Sunday, and who knows whom or what
you  anny find in the territories we now possess! The
Wild-cat may have made his lodge where the banquettingr bower of Maclan now stands."
The young Chief was silent, and pressed the top of
the rod to his lips, as if to guard against uttering more.
" There is no fear of that, Eachin," said Simon, in
that vague way in which lukewarm comforters endeavour
to turn the reflections of their friends from the consideration of inevitable danger.
"' There is fear, and there is peril of utter ruin," answered Eachin; "' and there is positive certainty of great
loss. I marvel my father consented to this wily proposal of Albany.  I would AMacGillie Chattachan would
take with me, and then, instead of wasting our best blood
against each other, we would go down together to Strathmnore, and kill and take possession. I would rule at Perth,
and he at Dundee, and all the Great Strath should be
our own to tle banks of the Frith of Tay.  Such is the
policy I have caught from your old grey head, father Simon, when holding a trencher at thy back, and listening
to thy evening talk with Bailie Craigdallie."
The tongue is well called an unruly member, thought
the Glover. Here have I been holding a candle to the
devil, to show him the way to mischief.




ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.            143
But he only said aloud, 6 These plans come too late."
6 Too late, indeed," answered Eachin. "The i-dentures of battle are signed by our marks and seals; the
burning hate of the Clan Quhele and Clan Chattan is
blown up to an inextinguishable flame by mutual insults
and boasts. Yes, the time is passed by.-But to thine
own affairs, father Glover. It is religion that has brought
thee hither, as I learn friom Neil Booshalloch.  Surely,
my experience of thy prudence did not lead me to suspect thee of any quarrel with Mother Church. As for
my old acquaintance, Father Clement, he is one of those
who hunt after the crown of martyrdom, and think a stake,
surrounded with blazing fagots, better worth embracing
than a willing bride. He is a very knight-errant, in defence of his religious notions, and does battle wherever
he comes.  He hath already a quarrel with the monks of
Sibyl's Isle yonder, about some point of doctrine —Hast
seen him?"
I'! have," answered Simon; "but we spoke little together, the time being pressing."
" He may have said that there is a third person,one more likely, I think, to be a true fuigitive for religion,
than either you, a shrewd citizen, or he, a wrangling
preacher,-who would be right heartily welcome to share
our protection?-Thou art dull, man, and wilt not guess,ny mleaning-Thy daughter, Catharine?
These last words the young Chief spoke in English;
and he continued the conversation in that language, as if
apprehensive of being overheard; and, indeed, as if under
the sense of some involuntary hesitation.
M iy daughter Catharine," said the Glover, rernembering what the Carthusian had told him, "6 is well and' But where, or with whom?" said the young Chief.
" And wherefore came she not with you? Think you
the Clan Quhele have no cailliachs2'as active as old Dorothy, whose hand has warmed my haffits23 before now to
wait upon the daughter of their Chieftain's master?"




144           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
"' Again I thank you," said the Glover, " and doubt
neither your power nor your will to protect my daughter,
as well as myself. But an honourable lady, the friend
of Sir Patrick Charteris, hath offered her a safe place of
refuge, without the risk of a toilsome journey through a
desolate and distracted country."
" Oh, ay,-Sir Patrick Charteris," said Eachin, in a
more reserved and distant tone-" he must be preferred
to all men, without doubt; he is your friend, I think?"
Simon Glover longed to punish this affectation of a
boy, who had been scolded four times a-day for running
into the street to see Sir Patrick Charteris ride past; but
he checked his spirit of repartee, and simply said," Sir Patrick Charteris has been Provost of Perth for
seven years; and it is likely is so still, since the magistrates are elected, not in Lent, but at St. Martinmas."
" Ah, father Glover," said the youth, in his kinder
and more familiar mode of address, " you are so used to
see the sumptuous shows and pageants of Perth, that you
would but little relish our barbarous festival in comparison.  What didst thou think of our ceremonial of yesterday?"
"~ It was noble and touching," said the Glover; " and
to me, who knew your father, most especially so.  When
you rested on the sword, and looked around you, methought I saw mine old friend Gilchrist MacIan arisen
fionom the dead, and renewed in years and in strength."
" I played my part there boldly, I trust; and showed
little of that paltry apprentice boy, whom you used touse just as he deserved."
" Eachin resembles Conachar,"' said the Glover, " no
more than a salmon resembles a par, though men say
they are the same fish in a different state; or than a butterfly resembles a grab."
" Thinkest thou that while I was taking upon m-I the
power which all women love, I would have been myself
an object for a maiden's eye to rest upon?-To speak
plain, what would Catherine have thought of me in the
ceremonial?"




ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.             145
We approach tie shallows now, thought Simon Glover;
and without nice pilotage, we drive right on shore.
" aost women like show, Eachin; but I think my
daughter Catharine be an exception. She would rejoice
in the good fortune of her household friend and playmate;
but she would not value the splendid Maclan, captain of
Clan Quhele, more than the orphan Conachar."
" She is ever generous and disinterested," replied the
young Chief.  " But yourself, father, have seen the world
for many more years than she has done, and can better
form a judgment what power and wealth do for those who
enjoy them.  Think, and speak sincerely, what would be
your own thoughts, if you saw your Catharine standing
under yonder canopy, with the command over an hundred hills, and the devoted obedience of ten thousand
vassals; and as the price of these advantages, her hand
in thatoftheman who loves her the best in the world?"
M. Meaning in your own, Conachar?" said Simon.
6 Ay, Conachar call me-I love the name, since it was
by that I have been known to Catharine."
"Sincerely, then," said the Glover, endeavouring to
give the least offensive turn to his reply, " my inmost
thought would be the earnest wish that Catharine arid I
were safe in our hunmble booth in Curfew Street, with
Dorothy for our only vassal."
"' And with poor Conachar also, I trust? You would
not leave him to pine away in solitary grandeur'?
" I would not," answered the Glover, " wish so ill to
the Clan Quliele, mine ancient firiends, as to deprive them
at a moment of emergency, of a brave young Chief; and
that Chief of the fame which he is about to acquire at
their head in the approaching conflict."'
Eachrin bit his lip, to suppress his irritated feelings,
as he replied,-" Words-ivords,-empty words, father
Simon. You fear the Clan Quhele more than you love
them, and you suppose their indignation would be formidable, should their Chief marry the daughter of a but'gess of Perth."
13 vor,. II.




146           ST. VALENTI'E S DAY.
"' And if I do fear such an issue, Hector Maclan, have
I not reason? How have ill-assorted marriages had issue in the Hlouse of MacCallanmore, in that of the powerful MacLeans, nay, of the Lords of the Isles themselves?
What has ever come of them but divorce and exheredation-sometimes worse fate, to the ambitious intruder?
You could not marry my child before a priest, and you
could only wed her with your left hand; and I"-he
checked the strain of impetuosity which the subject inspired, and concluded,-" And I am an honest, though
humble burgher of Perth, who would rather my child
were the lawful and undoubted spouse of a citizen in my
own rank, than the licensed concubine of a monarch."
" I will wed Catharine before the priest and before
the world,-before the altar and before the black stones
of Iona," said the impetuous young man.  " She is the
love of my youth, and there is not a tie in religion or
honour, but I will bind myself by them! I have sounded
my people.  If we do but win this combat-and, with
the hope of gaining Catharine, we SHALL win it-my
heart tells me so-I shall be so much lord over their affections, that were I to take a bride from the alms-house,
so it was my pleasure, they would hail her as if she were
a daughter of MacCallanmore.-But you reject my suit?"
said Eachin, sternly.
"' You put words of offence in my mlouth," said the
old man, " and may next punish me for them, since I am
wholly in your powver.  But with my consent my daughter shall never wed, save in lier own degree.  Her heart
would break amid the constant wars and scenes of bloodshed which connect themselves with your lot.  If you
really love her, and recollect her dread of strife and combat, you would not wish her to be subjected to the train of
military horrors in which you, like your father, must needs
be inevitably aned eternally engaged.  Choose a bride
amonst the daugllters of the nmountain-chiefs, my sonl, or
fiery Lowland nobles.  You are fair, young, rich, highlborn, and powerful, and will not woo in vain.  You will
readily find one who will rejoice in your conquest, and




ST. YAJ. ENTINE'S DAY.              147
c~heer you under defeat.  To Catharine, the one would
be as fiightful as the other.  A warrior mnust wear a steei
gauntlet —a glove of kid-skin would be torn to pieces imi
an hour."
A dark cloud passed over the face of the young Clief,
lately animated with so much fire.
"Farewell," he said, " the only hope. which coulcd
have lig(rted me to fame or victory!" —He remained for
a space silent, and intensely thoughtful, with down-cast
eyes, a lowering brow, and folded arms.  At length lie
raised his hands, and said, " Father, —for such you have
been to me,-1 am  about to tell you a secret.  Reason
and Pride both advise inme to be silent, but Fate urges
me, and must be obeyed.  I am  about to lodge in you
the deepest and dearest secret that man ever  confided
to man.  But beware-end this conference how it willbeware how you ever breathe a syllable of what I am now
to trust to you; for know, that were you to do so in the
most remote corner of Scotland, I have ears to hear it
even there, and a hand and poniard to reach a traitor's
bosom.-I am-but the word Twill not out!"
~ Do not speak it then," said the prudent Glover;' a secret is no longer safe when it crosses the lips of
him who owns it; and I desire not a confidence so dangerous as you menace  ie with."'
~ Ay, but I must speak, and you must hear," saidl the
youth.  "' In this ag,e of battle, father, you. have yourself
been a combatant?'"' Once on]y,7" replied Simon,; when the Sonlthlron
assaulted the Fair City.  1 was summoned to take mly
part in the defence, as my tenure required, like that of
other craftsmen, who are bound to keep watch and ward."
" And how felt you upon that matter?" inquired the
young Chlief.
1" What Can that irnmport to the present business?" said
Simon, in some surprise.
" Mlluch, else I had not asked the question,"' answ-ered
Eachin, in the tone of haughtiness which ifrom  time to
time he assumed.




148           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
1" An old man is easily brought to speak of olden times,"
said Simon, not unwilling, on an instant's reflection, to
lead the conversation away from the subject of his daugh.
ter"'~ and I must needs confess, my feelings were much
short of the high cheerful confidence, nay, the pleasure,
with which I have seen other men go to battle.  My life
and profession were peaceful, and though I have not
wanted the spirit of a man, when the time demanded it,
yet I have seldom slept worse than the night before that
onslaught.  My ideas were harrowed by the tales we
were told (nothing short of the truth) about the Saxon
archers; how they drew shafts of a cloth-yard length, and
used bows a third longer than ours.  When I fell into a
broken slumber, if but a straw in the mattrass pricked my
side, I started and waked, thinking an English arrow was
quivering in my body. In the morning, as I began for
very weariness to sink into some repose, I was waked by
the tolling of the commonl bell, which called us burghers
to the walls;-I never heard its sound peal so like a
passing knell before or since."
"6 Go on-what further chanced?"' demanded Eachin.
" I did on my harness," said Simon, " such as it was
— took my mother's blessing, a high-spirited woman, who
spoke of my father's actions for the honour of the Fair
Town.  This heartened me, and I felt still bolder when
I found myself ranked among the other crafts, all bowmen,
for thou knowest the Perth citizens have good skill in
archery.  We were dispersed on the walls, several knights
and squires in armour of proof being mingled amongst us,
who kept a bold countenance, confident perhaps in their
hlarness, and informed us, for our encouragement, that they
would cut down with their swords and axes, any of those
who should attempt to quit their posts.  I was kindly assured of this myself by the old Kempe of Kinfauns, as
he was called, this good Sir Patrick's father, then our
Provost.  He was a grandson of the Red Rover, Tom
of Longueville, and a likely man to keep his word, which
he addressed to me in especial, because a night of much




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.             1.49
discomfort may have made me look paler than usual., and
besides, I was but a lad."
" And did his exhortation add to your fear or your
resolution?" said Eachin; who seemed very attentive.
" To my resolution," answered Simon; " for I think
nothing can make a man so bold to face one danger at
some distance in his front, as the knowledge of another
close behind him, to push him forward.  Well-I mounted the walls in tolerable heart, and was placed with others
on the Spey Tower, being accounted a good bowman.
But a very cold fit seized me as I saw the English, in
great order, with their archers in front, and their men-atarms behind, marching forward to the attack in strong
columns, three in number.  They came on steadily, and
some of us would fain have shot at them; but it was
strictly forbidden, and we were obliged to remain motionless, sheltering ourselves behind the battlement as we best
mi-ht.  As the Southron formed their long ranks into
lines, each mall occupying his place as by imagic, and
preparing to cover themselves by large shields, called
pavesses, which they planted before them, I again felt a
strange breathlessness, and some desire to go home for a
glass of distilled waters.  But as I looked aside, I saw
the worthy Kempe of Kinfauns bending a large crossbow, and I thought it pity he should waste the bolt on a
true-hearted Scotsman, when so many English were in
presence; so I e'en staid where I was, being in a comfortable angle, formed by two battlements.  The English
then strode forward, and drew their bowstrings,-not to
the breast, as your Highland kerne do, but to the ear,and sent off their volleys of swallow-tails before we could
call on St. Andrew.  I winked when I saw them haul up
their tackle, and I believe I started as the shafts began to
rattle against the parapet.  But looking round me, and
seeing none hurt but John Squallit, the town-crier, whose
iaws were pierced through with a cloth-yard shaft. I look
heart of grace, and shot in my turn with good will and
good aim.  A little man I shot at, who had just peeped
13*  VOL. II.




150            ST.o YAlETIN E S DiAY.
out from behind his target, dropt with a shaft through his
shoulder.  The Provost cried —' Well stitched, Simon
Glover!'-   Saint John, for his own town, my fellowcraftsmen!'-shouted 1,-though I was then but an apprentice.  And if you will believe me, in the rest of the skirmish, which was ended by thle foes drawing  off,  drew bowstring and loosed shaft as calmly as if1 I ad been sliooting at
butts instead of men's breasts. I gained some credit, and I
have ever afterwards thought, that in case of necessity, (for
with me it had never been matter of choice,) I should not
have lost it again.-And this is all I can tell of warlike experience in battle.  Other dangers I have had, which I have
endeavoured to avoid like a wise man, or, when they were
mevitable, I have faced them like a true one.  Upon other
terms a man cannot live or hold up his head in Scotland.."
" I understand your tale," said Eachin; 1" but I shall
rInd it difficult to make you credit mine, knowing the race
of which I am descended, and especially that I anm  the;son of him whom we have this day laid in the tornb —well
that le lies where lie will never learn what you are now
to hear! Look, my father —the light which I bear grows
short and t)ale, a few minutes will extinguish it —but before it expires, the hideous tale will be told.-Father, I
am-a cowx.uD! —It is said at last, and the secret of my
disgrace is in keeping of anotller!9'
The y outng man sulnk backl in a species of syniope,
produced by the agony of llis mind as lie made the fatal
communicnation.  Tile Glover, moved as well by feat' as
by conmpassrion  aplppied himself to recall him to life, and
succeeded in doin- so, b:ut not in restoring  him to corrmposire.    e  LiHe d his  face xit  his hnncl s, iand        teh is
flowed plenltifilly an-d bitterly.' For Our Ladt's sake, be composed," said the Old
mian, " antd recall lthe vile word! I know yout letter than
vyoutrsel — you are NO coward, but only too yrouno and in-,ipenrinceed, a2y, and somewhat too qulick of fcllcey, tcn
lhat  tlhe steady valoLri of a bearded man.  I xoulcd hear
no other man say that of' you, Conachar. withoi t gio;i iltr




ST. VA'LE NTINE )S J AV.            1,51
rim the lie —You are no coward-I have seen high sparks
af spirit fly from you even on slight enough provocation.";I-igoh sparks of pride and passion!" said the unfortunate youth,' but when saw you them supported by tile
resolution that should have backed therm? the sparks you
speak of' fell on my dastardly heart as on a piece of ice
w l.ir.  could catcih fire Piorn nothing —if  my offerided
p})rie urged me to stri,  lny \v weaklness of imind promlpted
mne thle next moment to Sly."
"Want of habit," said Simon; "6 it is by clambering
over walls that youths learn to scale precipices.  Begi-n
wvith slight feuds-exercise daily the arms of your country in tourney with your followers."'6 And what leisure is there for this?" exclaimed the
young Chief, starting as if something hlorrid had occurred
to his imagination.  " How many days are there betwixt
this hour and Palm Sunday, and what is to chance then?
-— A  list enclosed, frorn which no man can stir, more than
the poor bear who is chained to hlis stake.  Sixty living
men, the best and fiercest, (one alone excepted!) which
Albyn can send down fiom  her mountains, all athlirst for
each other's blood, while a King and his nobles, andc
shouting thousands besides, attend, as at a tlieatre, to encourage their demoniac firy! Blows clang, and blood
flows, thicker, faster, redder-they rush on each other
like madmnen —they tear each other like wild beasts-tlhe
wounded are trodden to death amid the feet of their coinpanions! Blood ebbs, arms become weak-but there
must be no parley, no truce, no interruption, while any of
the maimed wretches remain alive! Here is no crouching behind battlements, no fighting with missile wveapons,
-all is hand to hand, till hands can no longer be raised
to maintain the ghastly conflict!-lf suchi a field is so horrible in idea, what think you it will be in reality?"
The Glover remained silent.
cc I say again, what think you?"
"I can only pity you, Conachar," said Simon.  " It
is hard to be the descendant of a lofty line —the son of a
noble father-the leader by birth of a gallant array —and




'o 5  Sr. VA1ENTINI'S D3TAY.
yet to want, or think you want, (for still I trust the fault
lies muchl in a quick fancy, that over-estimates danger,)
to want that dogged quality, whichl is possessed by every
game-cock that is worth a handful of corn, every hound
that is worth a mess of offal.  But how chanced it, that
with such a consciousness of inability to fight in this battle, you profiered even now to share your chiefdom with
my daughter? Your power must depend on your fighting
this combat, and in that Catharine cannot help you."'" You mistake, old man," replied Eachin; " were
Catharine to look kindly on the earnest love I bear her,
it would carry me against the fi'ort of the enemies with
the mettle of a war-horse.  Overwhelming as my sense
of weakness is, the feeling that Catharine looked on would
give me strength.   Say yet-oh, say yet-she shall be
mnine if we gain tile combat, and not the Gow Chrom
himself, whose heart is of a piece with his anvil, ever
went to battle so light as I shall do! One strong passion
is conquered by another."
1" This is folly, Conachar.  Cannot the recollections of
your interest, your lionour, your kindred, do as much to
stir your courage, as the thoughts of a brent-browed lass?
Fie upon you, man 79
&" You tell me but what I have told myself —but it is
in vain," replied Eachin, with a sigh.'It is only whilst
the timid sta-g is paired with the doe, tllat lie is desperate
ad(l1 dangerous.  Be it fr'om constitution —be it, as our
H-iglandcl  cailliaclis vill say, fiom tlhe milk of tile White
Doe —be it firom my peaceful education, and the experience of your strict restraint —be it, as you think, fi-om an
over-heated fancy, which paints danger yet more dangerous
and ghastly than it is in reality, I cannot tell.  But I know
my failing, and-yes, it Inust be said!-so sorely dread
tllat I cannot conquer it, that, could I have your consent
to my iwishes on such terms, I would even here maike 
pause, renounce the rankvL I have assumed, and retire into
hunlble life."' What, turn Glover at last, Conachar?" said Simon:' thifs beats the lerend of St. Crispin.   Nay, nay, your




ST. VALE SN'I:NE S DAY.          153
hand was not framed for that; you shall spoil me no more
doe-skins."
" Jest not," said Eachin, " I am serious.  If I cannot
labour, I will bring wealth enough to live without it.
T'lhey will proclaim  me recreant with horn and war-pipe
— Let them do so-Catharine will love me the better that
I have preferred the paths of peace to those of bloodshed,
and Father Clement shall teach us to pity and forgive the
world, which will load us with reproaches that wound not.
I shall be the happiest of men-Catharine will enjoy all
that unbounded affection can confer upon her, and will be
freed from apprehension of the sights and sounds of horror, which your ill-assorted match would have prepared
for her; and you, Father Glover, shall occupy your
chimnney-corner, the happiest and most honoured man
that ever    "
" Hold, Eachin-I  prithee, hold," said the Glover;
" the fir light, with which this discourse must terminate,
burns very low, and I would speak a word in my turn, and
plain dealing is best.  Though it may vex, or perhaps
enrage you, let me end these visions by saying at once —
Catharine can never be yours.  A glove is the emblem of
faith, and a man of my craft should therefore less than
any other breaki his own.  Catharine's hand is promised
-promised to a man whom you may hate, but whom you
must honour- to Henry  the lrmourer.  The match is
fitting by degree, agreeable to their mutual wishes, and J
lhave given imy promise.  It is best to be plain at onceresent my refusal as you wvill-I am wholly in your powex
-But nothing shall make lnme break my word."
The Glover spoke thus decidedly, because he was aware
from experience that the very irritable disposition of hli,
former apprentice yielded in most cases to stern and decided resolution.  Yet recollecting where lie was, it was
with some feelings of fear that hlie saw the dying flame
leap up, and spread a flash of light on the visage of Eachin,
whichl seemed pale as the grave, while his eye rolled like
tlat of a maniac in his fever fit.  The liffght instantly sunk
rlown and died, and Simon felt a momentary terror, lest lie




15 r4          ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
should have to dispute for his life with the youth, whom
hlc knew to be capable of violent actions when highly excited, however short a period his nature couldc support tihe
measures which his passion commenced.  — Ie was relieved by the voice of Eachin, wvho muttered in a hoarse
and altered tone,-: Let what we have spoken this niglht rest in silence
fib  ever —If thou bringst it to light, thiou weTt better dig
t-linle own grave."
Thius speaking, the door of the lhut opened, admitting
a gleam of moonshline.  The form of the retiring Chief
crossed it for an instant, the hurdle was then closed, and
the shieiing left in darkness.
Simon Glover felt relieved, when a conversation, fraught
with offence and danger, was thus peaceably terminated.
But lie remained deeply affected by the condition of
EHector Maclan, whom he had himself-;bred tip.'" The poor child," said he, " to be called up to a
place of eminence, only to be hurled fromn it with contenmpt! What lie told rne I partly knew, having often remarked that Conachar wvas more prone to quarrel thian to
fight.  But this overpowering faint-heartedness,  which
neither shame nor necessity can overcome, 1, thougr1h no
Sir William Wallace, cannot conceive.  And to propose
himself for a husband to my daughter, as if a bride were
to find courage for hlerself and the bridegroom i No, no;-Catharine must wed a man to wvhom  she may say,I Husband, spare your enemy'-not one in whose behalf
shle must cry,_- Generous enemiy, spare my husband.'"
Tired out with these reflections, the old man at length
fell asleep.  In the morning, he was awakened by his
friend the Booslhalloch, who, withl something of a blanknisage, proposed l-o him  to return to h!is abode on the
meadow at the BIallouIgh.  -le apologized, that the Chief:oullcd not. see Simon Glover that morning, being busied with
rlings about the expected combat; and that  iacEhin MI aclan thouglht the residence at the Ballough woould be sa fest for




ST'. VAlEN'rIN' S I) AY.             155
Simon Glover's health, and had given charge that every
care should be taken for his protection and accommodation.
Niel Booshalloch dilated on these circumstances, to
gloss over the neglect implied in the Chiefs dismissing
his visiter without a particular audience.'" His father knew better," said the herdsman. cc But
where should he lhave learned manners, poor thing, and
bred up among your Perth burghers, who, excepting
yourself, neighbour Glover, who speak Gaelic as well as
I do, are a race incapable of civility?"
Simon Glover, it nmay be well believed, felt none of the
want of respect which his friend resented on his account.
On the contrary, he greatly preferred the quiet residence
of the good herdsman, to the tumultuous hospitality of
the daily festival of the Chief, even if there had not just
passed an interview with Eachin upon a subject which it
would be most painful to revive.
To the Ballouglh, therefore, lie quietly retreated, where,
could he have been secure of Catherine's safety, his leisure wvas spent pleasantly enough.   His alnmusement was
sailing on the lake, in a little skiff, whlich a HIighlland boy
managed, while the old man angled.  He friequently landed on the little island, where lie mused over the tomb of
his old fiiend Gilchrist Mlacian, and rnade fiienlds with the
monk-s, presenting the prior with gloves of martin's fir,
and the superior officers with each of tllhem a pair nmade
firom the skin of the wild-cat.  Thie cutting and stitching
of these little presents, served to beguile the time after
sunset,  while the family of the herdsman crowded around,
nd1in dihmo his address, and listenitng  to the tales and sono;s. nlih whilich the old 1man lhad skill to pass away a heavy
it Inust be confessed cltaIt the cautious Glover avoided
thie coniversation of Falther Clement, whom 1he erroneously,onoside edI as ratlher the autllor otf his misfbrtunes than the
i tiless shilrer of them.  I -will not, le tought, to please
hlis fancies, lose the good-will of these kind monks, which
Rnay be one (lay usefll to me.  I have suffered enough by;is preachments already, I trov.   Little the wiser and




1 56          ST, VALENTINE, S DAY.
much the poorer have they made me. No, no, Catharine
and Clement may think as they will; but I will take tile
first opportunity to sneak back like a rated hound at the
call of his master, submit to a plentiful course of haircloth and whip-cord, disburse a lusty lnulct, and become
whole with the church again.
More than a fortnight had passed since the Glover had
arrived at Ballough, and he began to wonder that he had
not heard news of Catharine or of Henry Wynd, to whom
he concluded the Provost had communicated the plan and
place of his retreat.  He knew the stout Smith dared not
come up into the Clan Quhele country, on account of various feud~ with the inhabitants, and with Eachin himself,
while bearing the name of Conachar; but yet the Glover
thought Henry might have found means to send him a
message, or a token, by some one of the various couriers
who passed and repassed between the court and the headquarters of tile Clan Quhele, in order to concert the terms
of the impending combat, the march of the parties to
Perth, and other particulars requiring previous adjustment.
It was now the middle of March, and the fatal Palm-Sunday was fast approaching.
Whilst time was thus creeping on, the exiled Glover
had not even once set eyes upon his former apprentice.
The care that was taken to attend to his wants and convenience in every respect, showed that he was not forgotten; but yet when lie heard the Chieftain's horn ringing through the woods, lie usually made it a point to
choose his walk in a different direction.  One morning,
however, lie found himself unexpectedly in Eachin's close
neighlbourhood, with scarce leisure to avoid him; and
thus it happened.
As Simon strolled pensively through a little sylvan
glade, surrounded on either side with tall forest trees,
mixed with underwood, a white doe broke from the thicket,
closely pursued by two deer greyhounds, one of which
griped her haunch, the other her throat, and pulled her
down within half a furlong of the Glover, who was something startled at the suddenness of the incident  The




ST. VAILEENTINE,'S DAY.           IN 7
near and piercing blast of a horn, and the baying of a
slow-hound, made Simon aware that the hunters were
close behind, and on the trace of the dleer. HIallooing
and the sound of men running through the copse, wvere
heard close at hand.  A moment's recollection would
have satisfied Simon, that his best way was to stand fast,
or retire slowly, and leave it to Eachin to acknowledge
his presence or not, as he snould see cause.  But his
desire of shunning the young man had grown into a kind
of instinct, and in the alarm of finding him so near, Simon
hid himself in a bush of hazels mixed with holly, which
altogether concealed him.  He had hardly done so, ere
Eachin, rosy with exercise, dashed from the thicket into
the open glade, accompanied by his foster-father, Torquil
of the Oak. The latter, with equal strength and address,
turned the struggling hind on her back, and holding her
fore feet in his right hand, while he knelt on her body,
offered his skene with the left, to the young Chief, that
he might cut the animal's throat.
" It may not be, Torquil; do thine office, and take the
assay thyself.  I must not kill the likeness of my fostermother."
This was spoken with a melancholy smile, while a tear
at the same time stood in the speaker's eye.  Torquil
stared at his young Chief for an instant, then drew his
sharp woodknife across the creature's throat with a cut so
swift and steady, that the weapon reached the back bone.
Then rising on his feet, and again fixing a long piercing
look on his chief, he said, —-  As much as I have done
to that hind, would. I do to any living man whose ears
could have heard my dault (foster-son) so much- as name
a white doe, and couple the word with Hector's name!"
If Simon had no reason before to keep himself concealed, this speech of Torquil furnished him with a pressing one.' It cannot be concealed, father Torquil," said Eachin:
" it will all out to the broad day."
14  vOL. 11.




1A 5)8        S~t r3ST.'VAI':N7T'N,1   S DAY.
" What will out? what will to broad dcly?"' asked Torquil i: stlrprise.
It is the fatal secret, thought Simon, and now, if th3is
h-uge privy counsellor cannot keep silence,   shall be
made answerable, I suppose, for Eachin's disgrace having
been blown abroad.
Thinking thus anxiously, he availed himself, at the
same time, of his position to see as much as he could of
what passed between the afflicted Chieftain and his confidant, impelled by that spirit of curiosity which prompts
us in the most momentous, as well as the most trivial occasions of life, and which is sometimnes found to exist in
company with great personal fear.
As Torquil listened to what Eachin communicated, the
young man sank into his arms, and supporting himself on
his shoulder, concluded his confession by a whisper into
his ear. Torquil seemed to listen with such amazement
as to make him incapable of crediting his ears.  As if to
be certain that it was Eachin who spoke, lie gradually
roused the youth from his reclining posture, and holding
him up in some measure by a grasp on his shoulder, fixed
on him an eye that seemed enlarged, and at the same time
turned to stone, by the marvels he listened to.  And so
wild waxed the old man's visage after he had heard the
murmured communication, that Simon Glover apprehended he would cast the youth from him as a dishoioured
thing, in which case lie might have lighted on the very
copse in which lie lay concealed, and occasioned hins discovery in a manner equally painful and dangerous.  IBut
the passions of Torquil, who entertained for his fosterchild even a double portion of that passionate fondness
whicll always attends that connexion in the Highlands,
took a different turn.
" I believe it not!"-lhe exclaimed;' it is false of thy
father's child;-false of thy mother's son;-falsest of my
dault! I offer my gage to heaven and hell, and will maintain the combat with him that shall call it true.  Thou
hast been spell-bound by an evil eye, my darling, and the
fainting which you call cowardice is the work of magic.




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.               159
I remember the bat that struck the torch out on the hour
that thou wert born, —that hour of grief and of joy.
Cheer up, riy beloved  Thou shalt with lme to lona, and
the.-od St. Columbus, with the whole choir of' biessed
saints and angels, who ever favoured thy race, shall takte.
firom  thee the heart of the white doe, and return that
which they have stolen firom thee."
Eachin listened, with a look as if he would fain have
believed the words of the comforter.
" But, Torquil," lhe said, "' supposing this might avail
us, the fatal day approaches, and if I go to the lists, I
dlread me we shall be sllhamed."
" It cannot be-it shall not!" said Torquil,-"' Hell
shall not prevail so far-we will steep thy sword in holy
water,-place vervain, St. John's-wort, and rowan-tree
in thy crest.  We will surround thee, I and thy eight
brethren-thou shalt be safe as in a castle."
Again the youth helplessly muttered something, which,
froln the dejected tone in which it wvas spoken, Simon
could not ulderstand, while Torquil's deep tones in reply fell full and distinct upon his ear.
"' Yes, there may be a chance of wvithdrawing thee
fiomn the conflict.  Thlou art the youngest who is to draw
blade.  Now, hear Ine, anld thou slialt know what it is
to have a foster-falther's love, and how far it exceeds the
love evenofkinsmen. Tle younlgest on the indenture of
the Clan Chattan is Ferqulhard Day.  His fathler slew
mnine, and the red blood is seething hot between us —-I
looked to Palm Sunday as the term that should cool it —
But mark!-Thou Nwoulld'st have thought that the blood
in the veins of this IFerqubard Day an1d in mine would
not have mingled, had they been putt into the same  vessel, yet hath he cast the eyes of his love upon my only
daulghter Eva-the fairest of our maidens.  Thinkl  with
vwhat feelings I heard the news.  It was as if a wolf froin
the skirts of Ferragon had said,' Give me thy child in
%wedlock, Torquil.'  nTy child thouglht not thus, she loves
Ferquhard, and weeps away her colour and strength in
the dread of thle approaching battle.  Let her give hmll




160           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
but a  sign  of favour, and well I know he will forget
kith and kin, forsake the field, and fly with her to the
desert."
"' He, the youngest of the champions of Clan Chattan
being absent, I, the youngest of the Clan Quhele, may
be excused from combat," said Eachin, blushing at the
mean chance of safety thus open to him.
" See now, my chief," said Torquil, " and judge my
thoughts towards thee-others might give thee their own
lives and that of their sons-I sacrifice to thee the honour of my house."
c' My friend, my father," repeated the Chief, folding
Torquil to his bosom, " what a base wretch am I that
have a spirit dastardly enough to avail myself of your
sacrifice! "
" Speak not of that-Green woods have ears.  Let
us back to the camp, and send our gillies for the venison.
— Back, dogs, and follow at heel."
The slow-hound, or lyme-dog, luckily for Simon, had
drenched his nose in the blood of the deer, else he might
have found the Glover's lair in the thicket; but its more
acute properties of scent being lost, it followed tranquilly
with the gaze-hounds.
When the hunters were out of sight and hearing, the
Glover arose, greatly relieved by their departure, and
began to move onf, in the opposite direction, as fast as
his age permitted.  His first reflection was on the fidelity
of the foster-father.
" The wild mountain heart is faithful and true. Yonder
man is more like the giants in romaunts, than a man of
mould like ourselves, and yet Christians might take an
example from him for his lealty. A simple contrivance
this though, to finger a man from off their enemies' chequer,
as if there would not be twenty of the Wild-cats ready
to supply his place."
Thus thought the Glover, not aware that the strictest
proclamations were issued, prohibiting any of the two
contending clans, their friends, allies, and dependents,
from conling within fifty miles of Perth, drrinw a week




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.              161
before and a week after the combat, which regulation
was to be enforced by armed men.
So soon as our friend Simon arrived at the habitation
of the herdsman, he found other news awaiting him.
h11ey were brought by Father Clement, who caime in a(
pilgrinm's cloak, or dalmatic, ready to commence his return to the southward, and desirous to take leave of his
companion in exile, or to accept him as a travelling companion.
"1 But what," said the citizen, " has so suddenly induced you to return within the reach of danger?'
" Have you not heard," said Father Clement, "' that
March and his English allies having retired into England before the Earl of Douglas, the good Earl has applied himself to redress the evils of the commonwealth.
and hath written to the court letters, desiring that the
warrant for the High Court of Commission against heresy be withdrawn, as a trouble to men's consciencesthat the nomination of Henry of Wardlaw to be Prelate of St. Andrews, be referred to the Parliament, with
sundry other things pleasing to the commons?  Now,
most of the nobles that are with the King at Perth, and
with them Sir Patrick Charteris, your worthy Provost,
Bhave declared for the proposals of the Douglas. The
Duke of Albany bath agreed to them; whether firom
good-will or policy I know not.  The good King is easily
persuaded to mild and gentle courses.  And thus are the
jaw-teeth of the oppressors dashed to pieces in their
sockets, and the prey snatched from their ravening talons.  Will you with me to the Lowlands, or do you abide
here a little space? "
Niel Booshalloch saved his friend the trouble of reply.
-' He had the Chiefs authority," lie said," for saying
that Simon Glover should abide until the champions
went down to the battle."' In this answer the citizen sawv
bomething not quite consistent with his own perfect freedoml of volition; but he cared little for it at the timne, as
14* >voL. II.




162           ST. YALENTINE S DAY.
t furnished a good apology for not travelling along with
the clergyman.'"An exemplary man," he said to his friend, Niel
3Booshalloch, as soon as Father Clement had taken leave,'a great scholar, and a great saint.  It is a pity almost
he is nolonogerin dangertobeburned, as his sermon at tlhe
stake would convert thousands.  0, Niel Booshalloch!
Father Clement's pile would be a sweet savouring sacrifice, and a beacon to all devout Christians.  But what
would the burning of a borrell ignorant burgess like- me
serve?  Mlen offler not up old glove leather for incense,
nor are beacons fed with undressed hides, I trow.  Sooth
to speak, I have too little learning and too much fear to
get credit by the affair, and therefore, I should, in our
homely phrase, have both the scathe and the scorn 
"True for you," answered the herdsman.
CHAPTER XIII.
WE must return to the characters of our dramatic narrative, whom  we left at Perth, when we accompanied
thle Glover and his fair daughter to Kinfauns, and friom
that hospitable mansion traced the course of Simoin to
Loch Tay; and the Prince, as the highest personage,
claims our immediate attention.  This rash and inconsiderate young  man endured with some impatience hlis
sequestered residence with the Lord  High Constable
wtith whose company, otherwise in every respect satisfactory, he became dissatisfied, from no other reason than
that he held in some degree the character of his warder.
incensed against his uncle, and displeased with his fe~
ther, he longed not unnaturally for the society of Sir
John Ramorny, on whom  he had been so long accusto:ned to throw  himself for amusement, and, though he
vwolid have resented the imputation  as an insult, for




S'. V)'AENTINE S DAY.            163
guidance and direction.  He, therefore, sent him a summons to attend him, providing his health permitted; and
directed him to conme by water to a little pavilion in the
High Constable's garden, which, like that of Sir Jolln's
own lodgings, ran down to the Tay.  In renewing an in
timacy so dangerous, Rothsay only remembered that lie
blad been Sir Johun Ramorny's munificent friend; while
S:r Jo0hn, on receiving the invitation, only recollected,
en his part, the capricious insults he had sustained firom
his patron, the loss of his hand, and the lightness wvith
which lie had treated the subject, and the readiness withl
which Rothsay had abandoned his cause in the matter
of the Bonnet-maker's slaughter. Hlie laughed bitterly
when he read the Prince's billet.' Eviot," he said, " man a stout boat with six trusty
men, —trusty men, mark me-lose not a moment; and
bid Dwining instantly come hither.-Heaven smiles on
us, my trusty friend," lie said to the mediciner.  " I was
but beating my brains howto get access to this fickle boy,
and here he sends to invite me."
6Hem! —I see the matter very clearly," said Dwining.  "Heaven smiles on some untoward consequences
-he! he! he!9
" No matter, the trap is ready; and it is baited, too,
myt friiend, with what would lure the boy fromi a sanctuary, though a troop with drawn weapons waited him in
the churcli-yard.  Yet is it scarce necessary.  His own
Nweariness of' himself would have done the job.  Get thy
matters ready-thou goest with us. Write to him, as I:
cannot, that we come instantly to attend his commands,
and do it clerkly. He reads well, and that he owes to me."
"' He will be your valiancy's debtor for more knowledge before he dies-lie i he! he! But is your bargain
sure with the Duke of Albany?"
" Enoutgh to gratify my ambition, thy avarice, and tlhe
revenge of both.  Aboard, aboard, and speedily; let
Eviot throw in a few flasks of the choicest wine, and some
cold baked meats."




1 64          ST. VALENTINE IS DAY.
" But your arm, my lord, Sir John? Does it not pain
you? "
" The throbbing of my heart silences the pain of my
wound.  It beats as it would burst my bosom."
"' Heaven forbid!"-said Dwining; adding in a low
voice, " It would be a strange sight if it should.  I should
like to dissect it, save that its stony case would spoil my
best instruments."
In a few minutes they were in the boat, while a speedy
messenger carried the note to the Prince.
Rothsay was seated with the Constable, after their
noontide repast.  He was sullen and silent; and the Earl
had justasked whether it was his pleasure that the table
should be cleared, when a note, delivered to the Prince,
changed at once his aspect.
"As you will," lie said.  "I go to the pavilion in the
garden,-always with permission of my Lord Constable,
-to receive my late master of the Horse."
"M y lord?" said Lord Errol.
" Ay, my lord; must I ask permission twice?"
" No, surely, my lord," answered the Constable; "; but
has your royal Highness recollected that Sir John Ramorny —"
" Has not the plague I hope?" replied the Duke of
Rothsay.  " Come, Errol, you would play the surly turnkey; but it is not in your nature, —farewell for half an
hour."' A new folly!"' said Errol, as the Prince, flinging
open a lattice of the ground-parlour in which they sat,
stept out into the garden.  " A new folly, to call back
that villain to his counsels.  But he is infatuated."
T>he Prince, in the meantime, looked back, and said
hastily,-;Your lordship's good housekeeping will afford us a
flask or two of wine, and a slight collation in the pavilion?
I love the al fresco of the river."
The Constable bowed, and gave the necessary orders;
so that Sir John found the materials of good cheer ready




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              165
displayed, when landing from his barge, he entered the
pavilion.
" It grieves my heart to see your Highness under re.
straint," said Ramorny, with a well-executed appearance
of sympathy.
"That grief of thine will grieve mine," said the
Prince.  "I am sure here has Errol, and a right truehearted lord he is, so tired me with grave looks, and
something like grave lessons, that he has driven me back
to thee, thou reprobate, from whom, as I expect nothing good, I may perhaps obtain something entertaining.
Yet ere we say more, it was foul work, that upon the
Fastern's Even, Ramorny.  I well hope thou gavest not
aiml to it."
"' On my honour, my lord, a simple mistake of the
brute Bonthron.  I did but hint to him that a dry beating would be due to the fellow by whom I had lost a
hand; and lo you, my knave makes a double mistake.
lie takes one man for another, and instead of the baton
lie uses the axe."
"' It is well that it wvent no farther.  Small matter for
the Bonnet-maker; but I had never forgiven you had the
Armourer fallen-there is not his match in Britain.But I hope they hang the villain high enough?"
"' If thirty feet might serve," replied Rarnorny.
" Pah! no more of him," said Rothsay, " his wretched
name makes the good wine taste of blood.-And what
are the news in Perth, Ramorny?-How stands it with
the bona robas and the galliards?"
" Little galliardise stirring, my lord," answered the
Knight.  "All eyes are turned to the motions of the
Black Douglas, who comes with five thousand chosen
men to put us all to rights, as if he were bound for another Otterburn.  It is said he is to be Lieutenan-t again.
It is certain many have declared for his faction."''" It is time, then, my feet were free," said Rothsay,
"otherwise I may find a worse warder than Errol."'"Ab, my lord! were you once away from this place,
you might make as bold a head as Douglas."




166           ST. VALENTINE S D!AY.
" Ramorny," said the Prince, gravely, "' I have but a
confused remembrance of your once having proposed
something horrible to me.  Beware of' such counsel. i
would be fiee-I would have my person at my own disposal; but I wvill never levy arms against my father, nor
tlose, it pleases him to trust.'
" It was only for your Royal Highness's personal freedom  that I was presuming to speak," answered Ramorny.  " Were I in your Grace's place, I would get me
into that good boat which hovers on the rray, and drop
quietly down to Fife, where you have many friends, and
make free to take possession of Falkland. It is a royal
castle; and though the King has bestowed it in gift on
your uncle, yet surely even if the grant were not -subject to chailenge, your Grace might make free with the
residence of so near a relative."
"He bath made free with mine," said the Duke, " as
the Stewartry of Renfrew can tell.  But stay, Ramorny
-hold-Did I not hear Errol say that the Lady Marjory Douglas, whom they call Duchess of Rothsay, is at
Falkland?  I would neither dwell with that lady, nor insult her by dislodging her."
" The lady was there, my lord," replied Ramorny;' but I have sure advice that she has gone to meet her
father."
" Ha! to animate the Douglas against me? or perhaps
to beg him to spare me, providing I come on my knees
to her bed, as pilgrinms say the Emirs and Amirals, upon whom  a Saracen Soldan bestows a daughter in marriage, are bound to do? Ramorny, I will act by the Douglas's own saying,' It is better to hear the lark sing than
the mouse squeak.'"4 I will keep both foot and hand from
fetters."
No place fitter than Falkland," replied Ramorny,
(" I have enough of good yeomen to keep the place; arid
lloild your Highness wish to leave it, a brief ride reach
es the sea in three cirections."




ST. YALENTINE S DAY.                167
"Y You speak well.  But we shall die of gloom yonder.
Neithler mirth, music, nor maidens-Ha!" said tile heedless Prince.
" Pardon rne, noble Duke; but though the Lady Mlarjory Douglas be departed, like an errant dame in romance, to implore succour of her doughty sire, there is,
I may say, a lovelier, I am sure a younger maiden, either
presently at Falkland, or who will soon be on the road
thither.  Your Highness has not forgotten the Fair ldaicd
of  — erth?"'; Forget the prettiest wench in Scotland!-No-any
more than thou last forgotten the band that thou hadst in
the Curfew Street onslaught on St. Valentine's Eve."
" The hand that I had?-Your Higllness would say,
the hand that I lost.  As certain as I shall never regain
it, Catharine Glover is, or will soon be, at Falkland.  I
will not flatter your Highness by saying she expects to
meet you —in truth, she proposes to place herself under
the protection of the Lady iMarjory."
"' The little traitress," said the Prince —" she too to
turn against me? She deserves punishment, Ramorny."
" i trust your Grace will make her penance a gentle
one," replied the knight.
" Faith, I would have been her Father Confessor long
ago, but I have ever found her coy."'~ Opportunity was lacking, my lord," replied Ramorny; " and time presses even now."; Nay, I am but too apt for a frolic; but my father —
"IHe is personally safe," said Ramorny, " and as much
at fieedom as ever he can be; lwhile your Hir Tihness-"
M' Must brook fetters, conjugal or literal-I knowx it.Yonder comes Douglas, with his daughter in his ana2t, as
haughty, and as harsh-featured as himself, bating tucilhes
of' age."
6 And at Falkland, sits in solitude the fairest wr;~t-  in
Scotland,"1 said Ramorny.  "' Here is penrance and re.straint, yonder is joy and ffreedom."
"; Thou hast prevailed, most sage counsellor," repliedl
Rotl.say; ~ bult markl;;yout it shall be tDhe last ofw ry Frolics.'




168           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.' I trust so," replied Ramorny; " for, when at liberty,
you may make a good accommodation with your royal
father."
"I will write to him, Ramorny-Get the writing-materials-No, I cannot put my thoughts in words-do thou
write."
" Your Royal Highness forgets," said Ramorny, pointing to his mutilated arm.
" Ah! that cursed hand of yours. What can we do?"
"' So please your Highness," answered his counsellor,
" if you would use tile hand of the mediciner, Dwining
-He writes like a clerk."
" Hath he a hint of the circumstances? Is he possessed
of them?"
5 Fully," said Ramorny; and stepping to the window,
lie called Dwining from the boat.
He entered the presence of the Prince of Scotland,
creeping as if he trode upon eggs, with downcast eyes,
and a frame that seemed shrunk up by a sense of awe
produced by the occasion.
" There, fellow, are writing-materials.  I will make
trial of you —thou know'st the case-place my conduct
to my father in a fair light."
Dwining sat down, and in a few minutes wrote a letter,
which lie handed to Sir John Ramorny.
W ihy, the devil has aided thee, Dwining," said the
knigllt. " Listen, my dear lord.-' Respected father and
liege Sovereign,-Know that important considerations
induce me to take my departure from this your court,
purposing to make my abode at Falkland, both as the seat
of my dearest uncle Albany, with whom I know your
Majesty would desire me to use all familiarity, and as the
residence of one fiomn whom I have been too long estranged, and with whom I haste to exchange vows of the closest
affection from henceforward.' "
The Duke of Rothsay and Ramorny laughed aloud;
and the physician, who had listened to his own scroll as if
At were a sentence of death, encouraged by their applause,




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.              169
raised his eyes, uttered faintly his chuckling note of Hle!
lie! and was again grave and silent, as if afraid he had
transgressed the bounds of reverent respect.
" Admirable!" said the Prince-" Admirable! The
old man will apply all this to the Duchess, as they call her,
of Rothsay.-Dwining, thou should'st be a secretis to his
Holiness the Pope, who sometimes, it is said, wants a
scribe that can make one word record two meanings.
I will subscribe it, and have the praise of the device.
" And now, my lord," said Ramorny, sealing the letter,
and leaving it behind, " will you not to boat?"
" Not till my chamberlain attends, with some clothes
and necessaries-and you may call my sewer also."
" My lord," said Ramorny, "C time presses, and preparation will but excite suspicion. Your officers will follow
with the mails to-morrow. For to-night, I trust my poor
service may suffice to wait on you at table and chamber."
"' Nay, this time it is thou who forgets," said the Prince,
touching the wounded arm with his walking-rod. " Recollect, man, thou canst neither carve a capon, nor tie a
point-a goodly sewer, or valet of the mouth!"
Ramorny grinned with rage and pain; for his wound,
though in a way of healing, was still highly sensitive, and
even the pointing a finger towards it made him tremble.
"6 Will your Highness now be pleased to take boat?"
"Not till I take leave of the Lord Constable.  Rothsay must not slip away, like a thief from a prison, from
the house of Errol.  Summon him hither."
" My Lord Duke," said Ramorny, " it may be dangerous to our plan."
" To the devil with danger, thy plan and thyself!-I
must and will act to Errol as becomes us both."
The Earl entered, agreeable to the Prince's summons.
" I gave you this trouble, my lord," said Rothsay, with
the dignified courtesy which he knew so well how to assume, "to thank you for your hospitality and your good
15 VOL. II.




170           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
COmp1)any.  I can enjoy them no longer, as pressing affairs
call me to Falkland."
Ad MIy lord," said the Lord High Constable, I' I trust
your Grace remerrlbers that you are under ward."
"' How!-under ward? If I am  a prisoner, speak
Dlainly-if not, I will take my freedom to depart."
I' I would, my lord, your Highness would request his
BMajesty's permission for this journey.  There will be
much displeasure."
6' Mean you displeasure against yourself, my lord, or
against me?9
"' I have already said your Highness lies in ward here;
but if you determine to break it, I have no warrant-God
forbid-to put force on your inclinations.  I can but entreat your Highness, for your own sake —---
"' Of my own interests I am the best judge-Good
evening to you, my lord."
The wilful Prince stepped into the boat with Dwining
and Ramorny, and, waiting for no other attendance, Eviot
pushed off the vessel, which descended the Tay rapidly
by the assistance of sail and oar, and of the ebb-tide.
For some space the Duke of Rothsay appeared silent
and moody, nor did his companions interrupt his reflections. He raised his head at length, and said, "' My father
loves a jest, and when all is over, he will take this fi'olic
at no more serious rate than it deserves-a fit of youth,
with which he will deal as he has with others.-Yonder,
my masters, shows the old Hold of Kinfauns, frowning
above the Tay.  Now, tell me, John Ramorny, how thou
hast dealt to get the Fair Maid of Perth out of tile hands
of yonder bull-headed Provost; for Errol told me it was
rumoured that she was under his protection."
61 Truly she was, my lord, with the purpose of being
transferred to the patronage of the Duchess, —I mean of
the Lady Marjory of Douglas.  Now, this beetle-headed
Provost, who is after all but a piece of blundering valiancy,
has, like most such, a retainer of some slyness and cunning, wbom he uses in all his dealings, and whose suggestions, le generally considers as his own ideas. Whenever




ST. VALENTINE I'S BDAY.            71
I would possess myself of a landward baron, I address
myself to such a confidant, lwho, in the present case, is
called Kitt Henshaw, an old skipper upon the Tay, and
who, having in his time sailed as far as Canmpvere, holds
with Sir Patrick Charteris the respect due to one who hlas
seen foreign countries.  This his agent I have madce my
own, and by his means have insinuated various apologies,
in order to postpone the departure of Catharine for Falkland."
But to what good purpose?"
" I know not if it is wise to tell your Highness, lest you
should disapprove of my views-I meant the officers of
the Commission for inquiry into heretical opinions should
have found the Fair Maid at Kinfauns, for our beauty is a
peevish, self-willed swerver from the Church; and certes,
I designed that the Knight should have come in for his
share of the fines and confiscations that were about to be
inflicted.  The monks were eager enough to be at him,
seeing he bath had frequent disputes with them about the
salmon-tythe."
46 But wherefore would'st thou have ruined the Knight's
fortunes, and brought the beautiful young woman to the
stake, perchance?"
"; Pshawv, my Lord Duke!-Alonks never burn pretty
maidens.  An old woman might have been in some danger; and as for my Lord Provost, as they call limll, if
they had clipped off some of his fat acres, it would have
been some atonement for the needless brave he put on
me in Saint John's church."
" Methinks, John, it was but a base revenge," said
Rothlsay.
" Rest ye contented, my lord. He that cannot right
himself by the hand, must use his head.-Well, that
chance was over by the tender-hearted Douglas's declaring in favour of tender conscience; and then, my lord,
old Heilshaw found no further objections to carrying the
Fair Maid of Perth to Falkland,-not to share the dullness of the Lady Marjory's society, as Sir Patrick Char



.*3 7(ST. VALENT'INE S DAY.
elris and she herself doth opine, but to keep your High.
ness fiom tiring when we return from hunting in the park.'
There was again a long pause, in which the Prince
seemed to muse deeply.  At length he spoke. —" Ramorny, I have a scruple in this matter; but if I name it
to thee, the devil of sophistry, with which thou art possessed, will argue it out of me, as it has done many others.
This girl is the most beautiful, one excepted, whom I ever
saw or knew; and I like her the more that she bears some
features of-Elizabeth of Dunbar.  But she, I mean
Catharine Glover, is contracted, and presently to be wedded, to Henry the Armourer, a craftsman unequalled for
skill, and a man-at-arms yet unmatched in the barrace.
To follow out this intrigue would do a good fellow too
much wrong."9
"Your Hiighness will not expect me to be very solicitous of Henry Smith's interest," said Ramorny, looking
at his wounded arm.
" By Saint Andrew with his shored cross, this disaster
of thine is too much harped upon, John Ramorny. Others
are content with putting a finger into every man's pie, but
thou must thrust in thy whole gory hand.  It is done, and
cannot be undone-let it be forgotten. "
"Nay, my lord, you allude to it more frequently than
I,"9 answered the Knight,-" in derision, it is true; while
I —but I can be silent on the subject if I cannot forget it."'~ Well, then, I tell thee that I have scruple about this
intrigue.  Dost thou remember, when we went in a fiolic
to hear Father Clement preach, or rather to see this fair
heretic, that he spoke as touchingly as a minstrel about
the rich man taking away the poor man's only ewe lamb?"
~ A great matter, indeed,'  answered Sir John, ~' that
this churl's wife's eldest son should be fathered by the
Prince of Scotland! How many earls would covet the
like fate for their fair countesses? and how many that have
lad such good luck sleep not a grain the worse for it?"
"' And if I might presume to speak," said the medici.
ner, " the ancient laws of Scotland assigned. such a priv.
1lege to every feudal lord over his female vassals, though




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               173
ack of spirit and love of money hath made many exchange it for gold."
I  require no argument to urge me to be kind to a
pretty woman: but this Catharine has been ever cold to
me," said the Prince.
" Nay, my lord," said Ramorny, " if young, handsome, and a Prince, you know not how to make yourself
acceptable to a fine woman, it is not for me to say more."' And if it were not far too great audacity in me to
speak again, I would say," quoth the leech, "a that all
Perth knows that the Gow Chronm never was the maiden's
choice, but fairly forced upon her by her father. I know
for certain that she refused him repeatedly."
"' Nay, if thou canst assure us of that, the case is much
altered," said Rothsay.  "6 Vulcan was a Smith as well
as Harry Wynd; he would needs wed Venus, and our
Chronicles tell us what came of it."
" Then long may Lady Venus live and be worshipped,"
said Sir John Ramorny; 1" and success to the gallant
knight AMars, who goes a wooing to her goddess-ship!"
The discourse took a gay and idle turn for a few minutes; but the Duke of Rothsay soon dropped it.  " I
have left," he said, "yonder air of the prison-house behind me, and yet my spirits scarce revive.  I feel that
drowsy, not unpleasing, yet melancholy im-ood, that comes
over us when exhausted by exercise, or satiated with
pleasure.  Some music now, stealing on the ear, yet not
loud enough to make us lift the eye, were a treat for the
gods."' Your Grace has but to speak your wishes, trnd the
nymphs of the Tay are as favourable as thile fair ones
upon the shore.-Hark — it is a lute."
" A lute!" said the Duke of Rothsay, listening; "; it
is, and rarely touched. I should remember that dying fall.
Steer towards the boat from whence the music comes."'' It is old Henshaw," said Ramorny, 6" working up
the stream.-How, skipper!"
15*  VOL. II.




174           ST. VALENTINE' S'BAY.,
The boatmen answered the hail, and drew up alongside of the Prince's barge.
" Oh ho! my old friend!'9 said the Prince, recognizing the figure as well as the appointments of the French
glee-woman, Louise.  " I think I owe thee something for
being the means of thy having a fright, at least, upon St.
Valentine's Day.  Into this boat with thee, lute, puppy
dog, scrip and all-I will prefer thee to a lady's service,
who shall feed thy very cur on capons and canary."
" I trust your Highness will consider-" said Rarnorny.
"I  will consider nothingbutmy pleasure, John. Pray, do
thou be so complying as to consider it also."
"' Is it indeed to a lady's service you would promote
me?" said the glee-maiden.   " And where does she
dwell?"'I At Falkland,'" answered the Prince.
" Oh, I have heard of that great lady!" said Louise;
6 and will you indeed prefer me to your right royal consort's service?'9
Ad I will by my honour —whenever I receive her as such
-Mark that reservation, John,"' said he aside to Ramorny.
The persons who were in the boat caught up'the tidings,
and concluding a reconciliation was about to take place
betwixt the royal couple, exhorted Louise to profit by her
good fortune, and add herself to the Duchess of Rothsay's train.  Several offered her some acknowledgment
for the exercise of her talents.
During this moment of delay, Ramorny whispered to
D)wining,' "Make in, knave, with some objection.  This
addition is one too many. Rouse thy wits, while I speak
a word with Henshaw."
" If I might presume to speak," said Dwining,' as
one who have made my studies both in Spain and Arabia,
I would say, my lord, that the sickness has appeared in
Edinburgh, and that there may be risk in admitting this
young wanderer into your Highness's vicinity."
Ahl! and what is it to thee, " said Rothsay, av whether
I choose to be poisoned by the pestilence or the potheaary? Must thou, too, needs thwart my humrour?"




ST. VAILJENTINE t S DAY.          1 75
While the Prince thus silenced the remonstrances of
Dwining, Sir John Rarnorny had snatched a moment to
learn from Henshaw that the removal of the Duchess of
Rothsay from Falkland was still kept profoundly secret,
and that Catharine Glover would, arrive there that evening or the next morning, in expectation of being taken
under the noble lady's protection.
The Duke of Rothsay, deeply plunged in thought, received this intimation so coldly, that Ramorny took the
liberty of remonstrating.  "' This, my lord," he said,
"' is playing the spoiled child of fortune.  You wish for
liberty-it comes.  You wish for beauty-it awaits you,
with just so much delay as to render the boon more precious. Even your slightest desires seem a law to the
Fates; for you desire music when it seems most distant,
and the lute and song are at your hand.  These things,
so sent, should be enjoyed, else we are but like petted
children, who break and throw from them the toys they
have wept themselves sick for."
" To enjoy pleasure, Ramorny," said the Prince, " a
man should have suffered pain, as it requires fasting to
gain a good appetite.  We, who can have all for a wish,
little enjoy that all when we have possessed it.  Seest
thou yonder thick cloud, which is about to burst to rain?
It seems to stifle me-the waters look dark and luridthe shores have lost their beautiful form    "1
M6L'y  lord, forgive your servant,"' said Ramorny.' You indulge a powerful imagination, as an unskilful
horseman permits a fiery steed to rear, until he falls back
on his master and crushes him.  I pray you shake off
this lethargy. Shall the glee-maiden make some music?"
" Let her-but it must be melancholy; all mirth would
vt this moment jar on my ear."
The maiden sung a melancholy dirge in Norman
French; the words, of which the following is an imitation,
were united to a tune as doleful as they are themselves.
1.
Yes, thou may'st sigh,
And look once more at all around,




176             ST. YALENTINE' S DAY.
At stream and bank, and sky and ground.
Thy life its final course has found,
And thou must die.
2.
Yes, lay thee down,
And while thy struggling pulses flutter,
Bid the grey monk his soul-mass mutter,
And the deep bell its death-tone utterThy life is gone.
3.
Be not afraid.'Tis but a pang, and then a thrill,
A fever fit, and then a chill;
And then an end of human ill,
For thou art dead.
The Prince made no observation on the music; and
the maiden, at Ramorny's beck, went on from  time to
time with her minstrel craft, until the evening sunk down
into rain, first soft and gentle, at length in great quantities, and accompanied by a cold wind. There was neither cloak nor covering for the Prince, and he sullenly
rejected that which Ramorny offered.
"' It is not for Rothsay to wear your cast garments, Sir
John-this melted snow, which I feel pierce me to the
very marrow, I am now encountering by your fault.  Why
did you presume to put off the boat without my servants
and apparel?"
Ramorny did not attempt an exculpation; for he knew
the Prince was in one of those humours, when, to enlarge upon a grievance was more pleasing to him than to
have his mouth stopped by any reasonable apology.  In
sullen silence, or amid unsuppressed chiding, the boat
arrived at the fishing village of Newburgh.  The party
landed, and found horses in readiness; which indeed
Ramorny had long since provided for the occasion
Their quality underwent the Prince's bitter sarcasm, ex,
pressed to Ramorny sometimes by direct words, oftener
by bitter gibes. At length they were mounted, and rode
on through the closing night and the falling rain, the Prince
leading the way with reckless haste.   The glee-maidei.
mounted by his express order, attended them. and well




ST. VALENTNFTIE   DAY.            177
ror her that, accustomed to severe weather, and exercise
both on foot and horseback, she supported as firmly as
the men the fatigues of the nocturnal ride.  Ramorny was
compelled to keep at the Prince's rein, being under no
small anxiety lest, in his wayward fit, he mnight ride off
fiiom him entirely, and, taking refuge in the house of some
loyal baron, escape the snare which was spread for him.
He therefore suffered inexpressibly during the ride, both
in mind and in body.
At length the forest of Falkland received them, and a
glimpse of the moon showed the dark and huge tower,
an appendage of royalty itself, though granted for a season to the Duke of Albany.  On a signal given the drawbridge fell.  Torches glared in the court-yard, menials
attended, and the Prince, assisted from horseback, was
ushered into an apartment, where Ramorny waited on him,
together with Dwining, and entreated him to take the
leech's advice.  The Duke of Rothsay repulsed the proposal, haughtily ordered his bed to be prepared, and having stood for some time shivering in his dank garments
beside a large blazing fire, he retired to his apartment
without taking leave of any one.,
" You see the peevish humour of this childish boy,
now," said Ramorny to Dwining; " can you wonder
that a servant, who has done so much for him as I have,
should be tired of such a master?"
" No, truly," said Dwining, " that and the promised
Earldom of Lindores would shake any man's fidelity.
But shall we commence with him this evening'? He has,
if eye and cheek speak true, the foundation of a fever
within him, which will make our work easy, while it will
seem the effect of nature."
" It is an opportunity lost," said Ramorny; " but we
must delay our blow till he has seen this beauty, Catharine
Glover.  She may be hereafter a witness that she saw
him in good health, and master of his own motions, a brief
space before-you understand me?"
Dwining nodded assent, and added, "' There is no time
lost; for there is little difficulty in blighting a flower, exliausted from having been made to bloom too soon."




.78             ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
CHAPTER XIV.
Ah me! in sooth lie was a shameless wight,
Sore given to revel and ungodly glee:
Few earthly things found favour in his sight,
Save concubines and carnal companie,
And flaunting wassailers of high and low degree.
BYPRON.
WITH the next morning the humour of the Duke of
Rothsay was changed.  He complained, indeed, of pain1
and fever, but they rather seemed to stimulate than to
overwhelm  him.   He was familiar with Ramorny, and
though he said nothing on the subject of the preceding
night, it was plain he remembered what he desired to obliterate from the memory of his followers-the ill-humour
lie had then displayed.   He was civil to every one, and
jested with Ramorny on the sibject of Catharine's arrival.
l6 How  surprised will the pretty prude be at seeing
herself in a family of men, when she expects to be adinitted amongst the hoods and pinners of Dame Marjory's
waiting-womlen!  Thou hast not many of the tender sex
in thy household, I take it, Ramorny?"
" Faith, none except the minstrel wench, but a household drudge or two whom we may not dispense with. By
the way, she is anxiously inquiring after the mistress your
IHighness promised to prefer her to-Shall I dismiss her,
to hunt for her new mistress at leisure?'"'< By no means, shie will serve to amuse Catharine —
And, hark you, were it not well to receive that coy jillet
with something of a mumming?99
I6 How mean you, my lord?"
" Thou art dull, man-We will not disappoint her,
since she expects to find the Duchess of Rothsay —I will
be Duke and Duchess in my own person."
" Still I do not comprehend."




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              179
" No one so dull as a wit," said the Prince, "s when he
does not hit off the scent at once.  My Duchess, as they
call her, has been in as great a hurry to run away from
Falkland, as I to come hither.  We have both left owl
apparel behind. Thereisas much female trumpery in the
wardrobe adjoining to my sleeping-room, as would equip
a whole carnival.  Look you, I will play Dame  alaijory,
disposed on this day-bed here with a mourning veil and
a wreath of willow, to show my forsaken plight; thou,
John, wilt look starch and stiff enough for her Galwegian
maid of honour, the Countess Hermigild; and Dwining
shall present the old Hecate, her nurse,-only she lath
more beard on her upper lip than Dwining on his whole
face, and skull to boot.  He should have the commodity
of a beard to set her forth conformably.  Get thy kitchen
drudges, and what passable pages thou hast with thee, to
make my women of the bedroom.  Hearest thou?about it instantly."
Ramorny hastened into the anteroom, and told Dwining
the Prince's device.
" Do thou look to humour the fool," he said;' I care
not how little I see him, knowing what is to be done."
" Trust all to me," said the physician, shrugging his
shoulders.  " What sort of a butcher is he that can cut
the lamb's throat, yet is afraid to hear it bleat?"'a Tush, fear not my constancy —I cannot forget that
he wvould have cast me into the cloister with as little regard as if he threw away the truncheon of a broken lance.
lBegone-yet stay-ere you go to arrange this silly pageant, something must be settled to impose on the thickwitted Charteris.  Hle is like enough, should he be left
in the belief that the Duchess of' Rothsay is still here, and
Catharine Glover in attendance on her, to come down
with offers of service, and the like, when, as I need scarce
tell thee, his presence would be inconvenient-Indeed,
this is the more likely, that some folks have given a warmer name to the iron-headed Knight's great and tender
patronage of this damsel."




180           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.'4 With that hint, let me alone to deal with him. 1
vill send him such a letter, that for this month he shall
hold hilnself as ready for a journey to hell as to Falkland.-Can you tell me the name of the Duchess's confessor?"
" Waltheof, a grey friar."
"Enough-then here I start."
In a few minutes, for he was a clerk of rare celerity,
Dwining finished a letter, which he placed in Ramorny's
hands.
"' This is admirable, and would have made thy fortune
with Rothsay-I think I should have been too jealous to
trust thee in his household, save that his day is closed."'" Read it aloud," said Dwining, " that we may judge
if it goes trippingly off." And Ramorny read as follows: -" By command of our high and mighty Princess
Marjory, Duchess of Rothsay, and so forth, we Waltheof,
unworthy brother of the older of St. Francis, do thee,
Sir Patrick Charteris, Knight, of Kinfauns, to know, that
her Highness marvels much at the temerity with which
you have sent to her presence a woman of whose fame
she can judge but lightly, seeing she hath made her abode,
without any necessity, for more than a week in thine own
castle, without company of any other female, saving menials; of which foul cohabitation the savour is gone up
through Fife, Angus, and Perthshire.  Nevertheless, her
Highness, considering the case as one of human frailty,
hath not caused this wanton one to be scoured with netties, or otherwise to dree penance; but as two good brethren of the convent of Lindores, the Fathers Thickscull
and Dundermore, have been summoned up to the Highlands upon an especial call, her Highness hath committed
to their care this maiden Catharine, with charge to convey her to her father, whom she states to be residing beside Loch Tay, under whose protection she will find a
situation more fitting her qualities and habits, than the
Castle of Falkland, while her Highness the Duchess of
Rothsay abides there.  She had charged the said reverend brothers so to deal with the young woman, as nmay




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              1SI
give her a sense of the sin of incontinence, and she cormmendeth thee to confession and penitence.-Signed,
Waltheof, by command of an high and mighty Princess —
and so forth."
When lie had finished, c" Excellent-excellent!" Ramorny exclaimed.'6 This unexpected rebuff will drive
Charteris mad! He hath been long making a sort of
homage to this lady, and to find himself suspected of incontinence, when he was expecting the full credit of a
charitable action, will altogether confound him; and, as
thou say'st, it will be long enough ere he come hither to
look after the damsel, or do honour to the dame.-But
away to thy pageant, while I prepare that which shall
close the pageant forever."
It was an hour before noon, when Catharine, escorted
by old Henshaw and a groom of the Knight of Kinfauns,
arrived before the lordly tower of Falkland. The broad
banner which was displayed from it bore the arms of
Rothsay, the servants who appeared wore the colours of
the Prince's household, all confirming the general belief
that the Duchess still resided there.  Catharine's heart
throbbed, for she had heard that the Duchess had the
pride as well as the high courage of the house of Douglas,
and felt uncertain touching the reception she was to experience.  On entering the Castle, she observed that the
train was smaller than she had expected, but as the Duchess lived in close retirement, she was little surprised at
this. In a species of anteroom she was met by a little
old woman, wvho seemed bent double with age, and supported herself upon an ebony staff.
6 Truly thou art welcome, fair daughter," said she,
saluting Catharine, "' and, as I may say, to an afflicted
house; and I trust (once more saluting her) thou wilt be
a consolation to my precious and right royal daughter the
Duchess.  Sit thee down, my child, till I see whether
my lady be at leisure to receive thee.  Ah, my child,
thou art very lovely indeed, if Our Lady hath given to
thee a soul to match with so fair a body."
16  vorL. 11.




ST. VALE NTI:Nt;'8 DAY.
With that the counterfeit old woman crept into the
next apartment, where she found Rothsay in the masquerading habit he had prepared, and Ramorny, who had
evaded taking part in the pageant, in his ordinary attire.
" Thou art a precious rascal, Sir Doctor," said the
Prince; "; by my honour I think thou could'st find in thy
heart to play out the whole play thyself, lover's part and
all."
"' If it were to save your Highness trouble," said the
leech, with his usual subdued laugh.;6 No, no," said Rotlisay, "' I'll never need thy help,
man-and tell me now, how look I, thus disposed on the
couch-languishing and ladylike, ha?"
"Something too fine complexioned and soft-featured
for the Lady Marjory of Douglas, if I may presume to
say so," said the leech.;' Away, villain, and martial in this fair frost-piecefear not she will complain of my effeminacy-and thou,
Ramorny, away also."
As the knight left the apartment by one door, the fictitious old woman ushered in Catharine Glover by another.
The room had been carefully darkened to twilight, so
that Catharine saw the apparently female figure stretched
on the couch without the least suspicion.
"s Is that the maiden?" asked Rothsay, in a voice
naturally sweet, and now carefully modulated to a whispering tone-"  Let her approach, Griselda, and kiss our
hand."
The supposed nurse led the trembling maiden forward
to the side of the couch, and signed to her to kneel.
Catharine did so, and kissed with much devotion and
simplicity fhe gloved hand which the counterfeit Duchess extended to her.
" Be not afraid,"' said the same musical voice; "in
me you only see a melancholy example of the vanity of
human greatness —happy those, my child, whose rank
places them beneath the storms of state."
NWhile she spoke, she put her arms around Catherlne's
neck and drew her towards her, as if to salute her in




ST. VtLENTl'INE IS    Y.           183
token of welcome.  But the kiss was bestowed with an
earnestness which so much overacted the part of the fair
patroness, that Catharine, concluding the Duchess had lost
her senses, screamed aloud.'6 Peace, fool! It is I, David of Rothsay," said the
Prince.
Catharine looked around her-the nurse was gone, and
the Duke tearing off his veil, she saw herself in the power
of a daring young libertine.
Now be present with me, Heaven!" she said; "and
thou wilt, if I forsake not myself."
As this resolution darted through her mind, she repressed her disposition to scream, and, as far as she
night, strove to conceal her fear.
6' The jest hath been played," she said, with as much
firmness as she could assume; "c may I entreat that your
Highness will now unhand me," for he still kept hold of
her arm.
6 Nay, my pretty captive, struggle not-why should
you fear?"'1 I do not struggle, my lord. As you are pleased to
detain me, I will not, by striving, provoke you to use
me ill, and give pain to yourself, when you have time to
think."'6 Why, thou traitress, thou hast held me captive for
months," said the Prince  6' and wilt thou not let me
hold thee for a moment?"' This were gallantry, my lord, were it in the streets
of Perth, where I might listen or escape as I listed-it is
tyranny here."
" And if I did let thee go, whither would'st thou fly?9"
said Rothsay.  " The biidges are up-the portcullis
down-and the men who follow me are strangely deaf to
a peevish maiden's squalls.  Be kind, therefore, and you
shall know what it is to oblige a Prince."'6 Unloose me, then, my lord, and hear me appeal
fromn thyself to thyself-from  Rothsay to the Prince of
Scotland. —I am the daughter of an humble but honest
cltlzen.  I amn, I may well nigh say, the spouse of a brave




184          ST. YALENTINE S DAY.
and honest man. If I have given your Highness any
encouragement for what you have done, it has been unintentionalo Thus forewarned, I entreat you to forego your
power over me, and suffer me to depart. Your Highness can obtain nothing from me, save by means equally
unworthy of knighthood or manhood."
"' You are bold, Catharine," said the Prince; " but
neither as a knight nor a man can I avoid accepting a defiance. I must teach you the risk of such challenges."
While he spoke, he attempted to throw his arms again
around her; but she eluded his grasp, and proceeded in
the same tone of firm decision.
" My strength, my lord, is as great to defend myself
in an honourable strife, -as yours can be to assail me with
a most dishonourable purpose. Do not shame yourself
and me by putting it to the combat. You may stun me
with blows, or you may call aid to overpower me; but
otherwise you will fail of your purpose."
" What a brute you would make me!" said the Prince.
" The force I would use is no more than excuses women
in yielding to their own weakness."
He sat down in some emotion.
" Then keep it," said Catharine, "6 for those women
who desire such an excuse. 3M~y resistance is that of thle
most determined mind, which love of honour and fear of
shame ever inspired. Alas! my lord, could you succeed,
you would but break every bond between me and life
— between yourself and honour. I have been trained
fraudulently here, by what decoys I know not; but were
I to go dishonoured hence, it would be to denounce the
destroyer of my happiness to every quarter of Europe.
I would take the palmer's staff in my hand, and wherever
chivalry is honoured, or the word Scotland ihas been
heard, I would proclaim the heir of a hundred kings, the
son of the godly Robert Stewart, the Heir of the heroic
Bruce-a truthless, faithless man, unworthy of the crown
he expects, and of the spurs he wears.  Every lady in
wide Europe would hold your name too foul for her lips
— every worthy knight would hold you a baffled, forsworn




ST. V ALENTINE l S DAY.           185
caitiff, false tb the first vow of arms, the protection of woman, and the defence of the feeble."
Rothsay resumed his seat, and looked at her with a
countenance in which resentment was mingled with admiration.  " You forget to vwhlom  you speak, maiden.
Know, the distinction I hlave offered you is one for which
hundreds, whose trains you are born to bear, would feel
gratitude."
" Once more, my lord," resumed Catharine, " keep
these favours for those by whom they are prized; or
rather reserve your time and your health for other and
nobler pursuits,-for the defence of your country and
the happiness of your subjects. Alas, my lord! how willingly would an exulting people receive you for their chief!
-How gladly would they close around you, did you show
desire to head them against the oppression of the mighty,
the violence of the lawless, the seduction of the vicious,
and the tyranny of the hypocrite! "
The Duke of Rothsay, whose virtuous feelings were
as easily excited as they were evanescent, was affected
by the enthusiasm with which she spoke.  " Forgive me
if I have alarmed you, maiden," he said; " thou art too
noble-minded to be the toy' of passing pleasure, for which
my mistake destined thee; and 1, even were thy birth
worthy of thy noble spirit and transcendant beauty, have
no heart to give thee; for by the homage of the heart only should such as thou be wooed.  But my hopes have
been blighted, Catharine-the only woman I ever loved
has been torn from me in the very wantonness of policy,
and a wife imposed on me whom I must ever detest, even
had she the loveliness and softness which alone can render a woman amiable in my eyes.  My health is fading
even in early youth; and all that is left for me is to snatch
such flowers as the short passage from life to the grave
will now present.  Look at my hectic cheek-feel, if you
will, my intermitting pulse; and pity me, and excuse me,
if I, whose rights as a Prince and as a man have been
trampled upon and usurped, feel occasional indifference
16 *  vor,. i




186           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
towards the rights of others, and indulge a selfish desire
to gratify the wish of the passing moment."
"i Oh, my lord!" exclaimed Catharine, with the entlih-:siasm which belonged to her character-"-   I will call you
rmy dear lord, —for dear must the Heir of Bruce be to
every child of Scotland,-let me not, I pray, hear you
speak thus'!  Your glorious ancestor endured exile, persecution, the night of famine, and the day of unequal
combat, to free his country,-do you practice the like
self-denial to free yourself. Tear yourself from those who
find their own way to greatness smoothed by feeding your
follies.  Distrust yon dark Ramorny!-you know it not,
I am  sure-you could not know; but the wretch who
could urge the daughter to courses of shame by threatening the life of the aged father, is capable of all that is vile
-all that is treacherous!"
6" Did Rarnorny do this?" said the Prince.
"1 He did indeed, my lord, and he dares not deny it."'" It shall be looked to," answered the Duke of Rothsay.'" I have ceased to love him; but lie has suffered
much for my sake, and I must see his services honourably
requited."
" His services! Oh, my lord, if chronicles speak true,
such services brought Troy to ruins, and gave the infidels
possession of Spain."
6 Hush,9 maiden; speak within compass, I pray you,"
said the Prince, rising up; " our conference ends here."'" Yet one word, my Lord Duke of Rothsay," said
Catharine, with animation, while her beautiful countenance resembled that of an admonitory angel-" I cannot
tell what impels me to speak thus boldly; but the fire
burns within me, and will break out. Leave this castle
without an hour's delay! the air is unwholesome for you.
Dismiss this Ramorny, before the day is ten minutes older! his company is most dangerous."
"  VWhat reason have you for saying this?": None in especial," answered Catharine, abashed at
her own eagerness,-"' none, perhaps, excepting my fears
fI6r your safety."




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              187'" To vague fears, the Heir of Bruce must not listen.
~ —WVhat, ho! who waits without?"
Ramorny entered, and bowed low to the Duke and to
the maiden, whom, perhaps, he considered as likely to be
preferred to the post of favourite Sultana, and therefore
entitled to a courteous obeisance.
"6 Ramorny," said the Prince, " is there in the household any female of reputation, who is fit to wait on this
young woman, till we can send her where she may desire
to go?"
11 I fear," replied Ramorny, " if it displease not your.
Highness to hear the truth, your household is indifferently provided in that way; and that, to speak the very verity, the glee-maiden is the most decorous amongst us."
"' Let her wait upon this young person, then, since
better may not be.-And take patience, maiden, for a few
hours."  Catharine retired.' So, my lord, —part you so soon from the Fair Maid
of Perth? This is, indeed, the very wantonness of vie
tory. "
6 "There is neither victory nor defeat in the case," returned the Prince, dryly.  " The girl loves me not; nor
do I love her well enough to torment myself concerning
her scruples."
"The chaste Malcolm the Maiden revived in one of
his descendants!" said Ramorny.
" Favour me, sir, by a truce to your wit, or by choosing a different subject fbr its career. It is noon, I believe,
and you will oblige me by commanding them to serve up
dinner."
Ramorny left the room, but Rothsay thought he discovered a smile upon his countenance; and to be the subject
of this man's satire. gave him no ordinary degree of pain.
He summoned, however, the Knight to his table, and
even admitted Dwining to the same honour.  The conversation was of a lively and dissolute cast, a tone encouraged by the Prince, as if designing to counterbalance
the gravity of his morals in the morning, which Ramorny,




188             ST. VA`LENTINE S DAY.Y
who was read in old chronicles, had the boldness to liken
to the continence of Scipio.
The banquet, notwithstanding the Duke's indifferent
health, was protracted in idle wantonness. far beyond the
rules of temperance; and, whether owing simply to the
strength of the wine which he drank, or the weakness of
his constitution, or, as it is probable, because the last wine
which he quaffed had been adulterated by Dwining, it
so happened that the Prince, towards the end of the repast, fell into a lethargic sleep, from which it seemed impossible to rouse him.  Sir John Ramorny and Dwining
carried him to his chamber, accepting no other assistance
than that of another person, whom we will afterwards give
name to.
Next morning, it was announced that the Prince was
taken ill of an infectious disorder; and, to prevent its
spreading through the household, no one was admitted to
wait on him save his late Master of Horse, the physician
Dwining, and the domestic already mentioned; one of
whom seemed always to remain in the apartment, while
the others observed a degree of precaution respecting their
intercourse with the rest of the family, so strict as to maintain the belief that he was dangerously ill of an infectious
disorder.
CHAPTER XV
In winter's tedious nights, sit by the fire,
With good old folks; and let them tell thee tales
Of woeful ages, long ago betid:
And, ere thou bid good-night, to quit their grief,
Tell thou the lamentable fall of me.
King Richard I1. Act 5, Scene 1.
FAPl different had been the fate of the misguided Heir
of Scotland, from that which was publicly given out in
the town of Falkland.  His ambitious uncle had determined on his death, as the means of removing the first
qnd mnost formidable barrier betwixt his own family and
the throne. James, the younger son of the King, was a




ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.             189
mere boy, who might at more leisure be easily set aside.
Ramorny's views of aggrandizement, and the resentment
which he hlad latterly entertained against his master, made
him  a willing agent in young Rothsay's destruction.Dwining's love of gold, and his native malignity of dispo.sition, rendered him equally forward. It had been resolved, with the most calculating cruelty, that all means
which might leave behind marks of violence were to be
carefully avoided, and the extinction of life suffered to
take place of itself, by privation of every kind acting upon
a frail and impaired constitution. The Prince of Scotland was not to be murdered, as Ramorny had expressed
himself on another occasion, —he was only to cease to
exist.
Rothsay's bedchamber in the Tower of Falkland was
well adapted for the execution of such a horrible project.
A small narrow staircase, scarce known to exist, opened
from thence by a trap-door to the subterranean dungeons
of the castle, through a passage by which the feudal lord
was wont to visit, in private, and in disguise, the inhabitants of those miserable regions.  By this staircase the
villains conveyed the insensible Prince to the lowest dungeon of the Castle, so deep in the bowels of the earth,
that no cries or groans, it was supposed, could possibly
be heard, while the strength of its door and fastenings
must for a long time have defied force, even if the entrance could have been discovered. Bonthron, wlho had
been saved from the gallows for the purpose, was the willing agent of Ramorny's unparalleled cruelty to his misled artd betrayed patron.
Thlis wretch revisited the dungeon at the time wh en the
Prince's lethargy began to wear off, and when, awaking
to sensation, he felt himself deadly cold, unable to move,
and oppressed with fetters, which scarce permitted him
to stir from the dank straw on which he was laid.  His
first idea was, that he was in a fearful dream-his next
brought a confused augury of the truth. He called, shouted,-yelled at length in frenzy,-but no assistance came,
and he was only answered by the vaulted roof of the dungeon.  The agent of Hell heard these agonizing screams,




I190          ST. VAIE NIN'E I 1S Ad  Y.
and deliberately reckoned them against the taunts and reproaches with which Rothsay had expressed his instinctive aversion to him. When, exhausted and hopeless,
the unhappy youth remained silent, the savage resolved
to present himself before the eyes of his prisoner. The
locks were drawn, the chain fell; the Prince raised himself as high as his fetters permitted,-a red glare, against
which he was fain to shut his eyes, streamed through the
vault; and when he opened them again, it was on the
ghastly form of one whom he had reason to think dead.
-He sunk back in horror.  " I am judged and condemned!" he exclaimed; "' and the most abhorred fiend in the
infernal regions is sent to torment me!"
"a I live, my lord," said Bonthron; " and that you may
live and enjoy life, be pleased to sit up and eat your victuals."
"' Free me from these irons," said the Prince,-" release me from this dungeon,-and, dog as thou art, thou
shalt be the richest man in Scotland."
" If you would give me the weight of your shackles in
gold," said Bonthron, " I would rather see the iron on
you than have the treasure myself!- But look up-you
were wont to love delicate fare-behold how I have catered for you." The wretch, with fiendish glee, unfolded
a piece of raw hide covering the bundle which he bore
under his arm, and, passing the light to and fro before it,
showed the unhappy Prince a bull's head recently hewn
from the trunk, and known in Scotland as the certain signal of death. He placed it at the foot of the bed, or
rather lair, on which the Prince lay.  "' Be moderate in
your food," he said; "it is like to be long ere thou get'st
another meal."
" Tell me but one thing, wretch," said the Prince." Does Ramorny know of this practice?"
" How else hadst thou been decoyed hither? Poor
woodcock, thou art snared!" answered the murderer.
With these words the door shut, the bolts resounded,
and the unhappy Prince was left to darkness, solitude. and
misery.  I Oh my father!-my prophetic father!-The
staff I leaned on has indeed plroved a spear!" —We will




ST. VALENTINE~ S DAY.                  A91
not dwell on the subsequent hours, nay days, of bodily
agony and mental despair.
But it was not the pleasure of Heaven that so great a
crime should be perpetrated with impunity.
Catharine Glover and the glee-woman, neglected by
the other inmates, who seemed to be engaged with the
tidings of the Prince's illness, were, however, refused permission to leave the Castle, until it should be seen how
this alarming disease was to terminate, and whether it was
actually an infectious sickness.  Forced on each other's
society, the two desolate women became companions, if
not friends; and the union drew somewhat closer, when
Catharine discovered that this was the same female minstrel on whose account Henry Wynd had fallen under her
displeasure. She now heard his complete vindication,
and listened with ardour to the praises which Louise heaped on her gallant protector. On the other hand, the minstrel, who felt the superiority of Catharine's station and
character, willingly dwelt upon a theme which seemed to
please her, and recorded her gratitude to the stout Smith
in the little song of " Bold and True," which was long a
favourite in Scotland.
Oh, Bold and True,
In bonnet blue,
That fear or falsehood never knew,
Whose heart was loyal to his word,
Whose ihand was faithful to his swordSeek Europe wide from sea to sea,
But bonny Blue-cap still for me!
I've seen Allnain's proud champions pranceHave seen the gallant knights of France,
Unrivall'd with the sword and lanceHave seen the sons of England true,
Wield the brown bill and bend the yew.
Search France the fair, and England free,
But bonny Blue-cap still for me!
In short, though Louise's disreputable occupation would
have been in other circumstances an objection to Catharine's voluntarily firequenting her company, yet, foreed to



192           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
gether as they now were, she found her a humble and accommodating companion.
They lived in this manner for four or five days, and,
in order to avoid as much as possible the gaze, and perhaps the incivility, of the menials in the offices, they prepared their food in their own apartment.  In the absolutely necessary intercourse with domestics, Louise, more
accustomed to expedients, bolder by habit, and desirous
to please Catharine, willingly took on herself the trouble
of getting from the pantler the materials of their slender
meal, and of arranging it with the dexterity of her country.
The glee-woman had been abroad for this purpose upon
the sixth day, a little before noon; and the desire of fresh
air, or the hope to find some sallad or pot-herbs, or at
least an early flower or two, with which to deck their
board, had carried her into the small garden appertaining
to the castle. She re-entered her apartment in the tower
with a countenance pale as ashes, and a frame which
trembled like an aspen-leaf.  Her terror instantly extended itself to Catharine, who could hardly find words to,sk what new misfortune had occurred.
"Is the Duke of Rothsay dead?"
" Worse! they are starving him alive."
"Madness, woman!9
"No, no, no, no!" said Louise, speaking under her
breath, and huddling her words so thick upon each other,
that Catharine could hardly catch the sense. " I was seeking for flowers to dress your pottage, because you said you
loved them, yesterday —my poor little dog, thrusting himself into a thicket of yew and holly bushes that grow out
of some old ruins close to the castle-wall, came back
whining and howling.  I crept forward to see what might
be the cause-and, oh! I heard a groaning as of one in
extreme pain, but so faint, that it seemed to arise out of
the very depth of the earth. At length, I found it proceeded from a small rent in the wall, covered with ivy; and
when I laid my ear close to the opening, I could hear the
Prince's voice distinctly say,-' It cannot now last long;'
and then it sunk away in something like a prayer.'




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              19;
" Gracious Heaven!-did you speak to him?'
"I said, is it you, my lord?" and the answer was
Who mocks me with that title?'-I asked him if I
could help him, and he answered with a voice I shall
never forget, —' Food!-food!-I die of famine!' So I
came hither to tell you.-What is to be done?-Shall we
alarm the house? - "
" Alas! that were more likely to destroy than to aid
him," said Catharine.
" And what then shall we do?" said Louise.
" I know not yet," said Catharine, prompt and bold
on occasions of moment, though yielding to her companion in ingenuity of resource on ordinary occasions.  " I
know not yet-but something we will do-the blood of
Bruce shall not die unaided."
So saying, she seized the small cruise which contained
their soup, and the meat of which it was made, wrapped
some thin cakes which she had baked, into the fold of her
plaid, and beckoning her companion to follow with a vessel of milk, also part of their provisions, she hastened towards the garden.
" So, our fair vestal is stirring abroad?" said the only
man she met, who was one of the menials; but Catharine
passed on without notice or reply, and gained the little
garden without farther interruption.
Louise indicated to her a heap of ruins, which, covered
with underwood, was close to the castle-wall. It had probably been originally a projection from the building; and
the small fissure, which communicated with the dungeon,
contrived for air, had terminated within it.  But the aperture had been a little enlarged by decay, and admitted a
dim ray of light to its recesses, although it could not be observed by those who visited the place with torch-light aids.
" Here is dead silence," said Catharine, after she had
listened attentively for a moment.-" Heaven and earth,
he is gone!"
"We must risk something," said her companion, and
ran her fingers over the strings of her guitar.
17 VOL. II.




194           ST. vA LENTINE S DAY.
A sigh was the only answer from the depth of the dungeon.  Catharine then ventured to speak.'" I am here,
my lord-I am here, with food and drink."
" Ha! Ramorny?-The jest comes too late-I am
dying,)" was the answer.
H Iis brain is turned," and no wonder, thought Catharine; but whilst there is life, there may be hope.
" It is I, my lord, Catharine Glover-1 have food, if I
could pass it safely to you."
" Heaven bless thee, maiden! I thought the pain was
over, but it glows again within me at the name of food."
" The food is here, but howv, ah how, can I pass it to
you? the chink is so narrow, the wall is so thick. Yet
there is a remedy-I have it.  Quick, Louise; cut me a
willow bough, the tallest you can find."
The glee-maiden obeyed, and by means of a cleft in
the top of the wand, Catharine transmitted several morsels
of the soft cakes, soaked in broth, which served at once
for food, and for drink.
The unfortunate young man ate little, and with difficulty, but prayed for a thousand blessings on the head of
his comforter. "s I had destined thee to be the slave of
my vices," he said, " and yet thou triest to become the
preserver of my life! But away, and save thyself."'
" I will return with food as I shall see opportunity,"
said Catharine, just as the glee-maiden plucked her sleeve,
and desired her to be silent, and stand close.
Both couched among the ruins, and they heard the
voices of Ramorny and the mediciner in close conversation.
"' He is stronger than I thought," said the former, in a
low croaking tone. " How long held out Dalwolsey, when
the knight of Liddesdale prisoned him in his Castle of
Hermitage?"
"' For a fortnight," answered Dwining; " but he was
a strong man, and had some assistance by grain whicl
fell from a granary above his prison-house."25
"; Were it not better end the matter imore speedily?
The Black Douglas comes this way.  He is not in Al



ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.            195
balnv's secret.  He will demand to see the Prince, and
all must be over ere he comes."
They passed on in their dark and fatal conversation.
" Now gain we the tower," said Catharine to her corn
panion, when she saw they had left the garden. L' I had
a plan of escape for myself-I xwill turn it into one of rescue
for the Prince.  The dey-woman enters the Castle about
vesper time, and usually leaves her cloak in the passage
as she goes into the pantler's office with the milk. Take
thou the cloak, muffle thyself close, and pass the warder
boldly; he is usually drunken at that hour, and thou wilt
go, as the dey-woman, unchallenged through gate and
along bridge, if thou bear thyself with confidence. Then
away to meet the Black Douglas; he is our nearest and
only aid."'; But," said Louise, "is he not that terrible lord who
threatened me with shame and punishment?";' Believe it," said Catharine, " such as thou or I never
dwelt an hour in the Douglas's memory, either for good
or evil. Tell him that his son-in-law, the Prince of Scotland, dies,-treacherously famished,-in Falkland Castle,
and thou wilt merit not pardon only, but reward."
" I care not for reward," said Louise;: the deed will
reward itself. But methinks to stay is more dangerous
than to go-Let me stay, then, and nourish the unhappy
Prince; and do you depart to bring help. If they kill
me before you return, I leave you my poor lute, and pray
you to be kind to my poor Charlot."
" No, Louise," replied Catharine, " you are a more
privileged and experienced wanderer than I-do you go
-and if you find me dead on your return, as may well
chance, give my poor father this ring, and a lock of my
hair, and say, Catharine died in endeavouring to save the
blood of Bruce.  And give this other lock to Henry; say,
Catharine thought of him to the last; and that if he has
judged her too scrupulous touching the blood of others, he
will then knowt it was not because she valued her ow1n."
They sobbed in each others' arms, and the intervening
hours till evening were spent in endeavouring to devise




196           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
some better mode of supplying the captive with nourishi
ment, and in the construction of a tube, composed of hollow reeds, slipping into each other, by which liquids might
be conveyed to him. Tile bell of the village church of
Falkland tolled to vespers.  The dey,* or farm-woman,
entered with her pitchers, to deliver the milk for the family, and to hear and tell the news stirring. She had scarcely
entered the kitchen, when the female minstrel, again
throwing herself in Catharine's arms, and assuring her of
her unalterable fidelity, crept in silence down stairs, the
little dog under her arm.  A moment after, she was seen
by the breathless Catharine, wrapt in the dey-woman's
cloak, and walking composedly across the drawbridge.
"c So," said the warder, "; you return early to-night,
May Bridget? Small mirth towards in the hall-Ha,
wench!-Sick times are sad times!"
"I have forgotten my tallies," said the ready-witted
Frenchwoman, " and will return in the skimming of a
bowie."26
She went onward, avoiding the village of Falkland, and
took a foot-path which led through the park.  Catharine
breathed freely, and blessed God when she saw her lost in
the distance.  It was another anxious hour for Catharine,
which occurred before the escape of the fugitive was discovered. This happened so soon as the dey-girl, having
taken an hour to perform a task which ten minutes might
have accomplished, was about to return, and discovered
that some one had taken away her grey frieze cloak.  A
strict search was set on foot; at length the women of the
house remembered the glee-maiden, and ventured to suggest her as one not unlikely to exchange an old cloak for
a new one. The warder, strictly questioned, averred lihe
saw the dey-woman depart immediately after vespers 
and on this being contradicted by the party herself, he
could suggest, as the only alternative, that it must needs
hlave been the devil.
As, however, the glee-woman could not be found, thc
* Hence, perhaps, dairy-woman and dairy.




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              197
real circumstances of the case were easily guessed at; and
the steward went to inform Sir John Ramorny and Dwining, who were now scarcely ever separate, of the escape
of one of their female captives.  Everything awakens the
suspicions of the guilty.  They looked on each other with
faces of dismay, and then went together to tile humble
apartment of Catharine, that they might take her as much
as possible by surprise, while they inquired into the facts
attending Louise's disappearance.
" Where is your companion, young woman?" said
Ramorny, in a tone of austere gravity.
I" I have no companion here," answered Catharine.
" Trifle not," replied the knight;' I mean tile glee-.
maiden, who lately dwelt in this chamber with you."
"She is gone, they tell me-" said Catharine, " gone
about an hour since."
"' And whither?" said Dwining.
" How,9' answered Catharine, "should I know which
way a professed wanderer may choose to travel? She was
tired no doubt of a solitary life, so different from tile
scenes of feasting and dancing which her trade leads her
to frequent.  She is gone, and the only wonder is that
she should have staid so long."
" This, then," said Ramorny, " is all you have to tell us?"
" All that I have to tell you, Sir John," answered Catharine, firmly; " and if the Prince himself' inquire, I can
tell him no more."
" There is little danger of his again doing you the honour to speak to you in person," said Ramorny, 6' even if
Scotland should escape being rendered miserable by the
sad event of his decease."
" Is the Duke of Rothsay so very ill?" asked Catharine.
" No help save in Heaven," answered Ramorny, lock.
ing upward.
"Then may there yet be help there," said Catiarine
if human aid prove unavailing!"
a' Amen!" said Ramorny, with the most determined
gravity; while Dwvining adopted a face fit to echo the
17*  VOL. It.




198           ST. VTALENTINE S DAY.
feeling, though it seemed to cost him a painful struggle to
suppress his sneering yet soft laugh of triumph, which
was peculiarly excited by anything having a religious tendency.
"And it is men-earthly men, and not incarnate devils,
who thus appeal to heaven, while they are devouring by
inches the life-blood of their hapless master!" muttered
Catharine, as her two baffled inquisitors left the apartment.
-" Why sleeps the thunder? —But it will roll ere long,
and oh! may it be to preserve as well as to punish!"'
The hour of dinner alone afforded a space, when, all
in the Castle being occupied with that meal, Catharine
thought she had the best opportunity of venturing to the
breach in the wall, with the least chance of being observed.
In waiting for the hour, she observed some stir in the Castle,
which had been silent as the grave ever since the seclusion
of the Duke of Rothsay. The portcullis was lowered
and raised, and the creaking of the machinery was intermingled with the tramp of horse, as men-at-arms went out
and returned with steeds hard-ridden and covered with
foam. She observed, too, that such domestics as she casually saw from her window were in arms.  All this made
her heart throb high, for it augured the approach of rescue;
and besides, the bustle left the little garden more lonely
than ever.  At length, the hour of noon arrived; she
had taken care to provide, under pretence of her own
wishes, which the pantler seemed disposed to indulge,
such articles of food as could be the most easily conveyed
to the unhappy captive. She whispered to intimate her
presence-there was no answer-she spoke louder, still
there was silence.
" He sleeps"-she muttered these words half aloud
and with a shuddering which was succeeded by a start
and a scream, when a voice replied behind her,"a Yes, he sleeps-but it is for ever."
She looked round-Sir John Ramorny stood behind
her in complete armour, but the visor of his helmet wvas
up, and displayed a countenance more resembling one
about to die than to fight. He spoke with a grave tone,




ST. YALENTINE'S DAY.              199
something between that of a calm observer of an interesting event, and of one who is an agent and partaker in it.
"6 Catharine," he said, " all is true which I tell you.
He is dead-you have done your best for him-you can
do no more."'
" I will not-I cannot believe it," said Catharine.
" Heaven be merciful to me! it would make one doubt
of Providence, to think so great a crime has been accomplished."
" Doubt not of Providence, Catharine, though it has
suffered the profligate to fall by his own devices. Follow
me —I have that to say which concerns you.  I say follow, (for she hesitated) unless you prefer being left to the
mercies of the brute Bonthron, and the mediciner Henbane Dwining."
"c I will follow you,"' said Catharine. G" You cannot
do more to me than you are permitted."9
He led the way into the tower, and mounted staircase
after staircase, and ladder after ladder.
Catharine's resolution failed her.;" I will follow no
farther," she said.  l" Whither would you lead me?-If
to my death, I can die here."
"C Only to the battlements of the castle, fool," said Ramorny, throwing wide a barred door which opened upon
the vaulted roof of the castle, swhere men were bending
mangonels, as they called them, (military engines, that is,
for throwing arrows or stones,) getting ready cross-bows,
andl piling stones together.  But the defenders did not
exceed twenty in number, and Catharine thought she
could observe doubt and irresolution amongst them.
"; Catharine,'" said Ramorny, "a I must not quit this station, _which is necessary for my defence; but I can speak
with you here as well as elsewhere."
c' Say on," answered Catharine,-" I am prepared to
hear you."
"* You have thrust yourself, Catharine, into a bloody
secret.  Have you the firmness to keep it?"
1C I do not understand you, Sir John," answered the
ma i (len.




200           -T. VALENTINF  S DAY.
" Look you.  I have slain-murdered, if you willmy late master, the Duke of Rothsay.  The spark ot
life which your kindness would have fed was easily smothered.  His last words called on his father.  You are
faint-bear up-you have more to hear.  You know the
crime, but you know not the provocation.  See! this
gauntlet is empty —I lost my right hand in his cause; and
when I was no longer fit to serve him, I was cast off like
a worn-out hound, my los3 ridiculed, and a cloister recommended, instead of the halls and palaces in which I had
my natural sphere! Think on this-pity and assist me."
" In what manner can you require my assistance?"
said the trembling maiden;'" I can neither repair your
loss, nor cancel your crime."
" Thou canst be silent, Catharine, on what thou hast
seen and heard in yonder thicket. It is but a brief oblivion 1 ask of you, whose word will, I know, be listened
to, whether you say such things were or were not. That
of your mountebank companion, the foreigner, none will
hold to be of a pin-point's value. If you grant me this,
I will take your promise for my security, and throw the
gate open to those who now approach it.  If you will not
promise silence, I defend this Castle till every one perishes, and I fling you headlong from these battlements. Ay,
look at them-it is not a leap to be rashly braved. Seven
courses of stairs brought you up hither with fatigue and
shortened breath; but you shall go from the top to the
bottom in briefer time than you can breathe a sigh! Speak
the word, fair maid; for you speak to one unwilling to
harm you, but determined in his purpose."
Catharine stood terrified, and without power of answering a man who seemed so-desperate; but she was
saved the necessity of reply, by the approach of Dwining. He spoke with the same humble conges which at all
times distinguished his manner, and with his usual suppressed ironical sneer, which gave that manner the lie.
"I do you wrong, noble sir, to intrude on your valiancy
when engaged with a fair damsel. But I come to ask a
trifling question."




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.            1201
"Speak, tormentor!" said Ramorny; "' ill news are
sport to thee even when they affect thyself, so that they
concern others also."
" Hem!-he, he!-I only desired to know if yout
knighthood proposed the chivalrous task of defending the
Castle with your single hand-I crave pardon —I meant
your single arm? The question is worth asking, for I am
good for little to aid the defence, unless you could prevail
on the besiegers to take physic-I-He, he, he!-and Bonthron is as drunk as ale and strong waters can make him
-and you, he, and 1, make up the whole garrison who
are disposed for resistance."
" How!-will the other dogs not fight?" said Ramorny.
" Never saw men who showed less stomach to the
work," answered Dwining, "' never. But here come a
brace of them.-Venit extremlc dies.-He, he, he!'
Eviot and his companion Buncle now approached, with
sullen resolution in their faces, like men who had made
their minds up to resist that authority which they had so
long obeyed.
"6 How now!" said Ramorny, stepping forward to meet
them.'" Wherefore from your posts? —Why have you
left the barbican, Eviot?-And you, other fellow, did I
not charge you to look to the mangonels?"9
" We have something to tell you, Sir John Ramornly,"
answered Eviot.  " We will not fight in this quarrel.'"
"'c How —my own squires control me?" exclaimed Ramorny.
c "We were your squires and pages, my lord, while you
were master of the Duke of Rothsay's household- It is
bruited about the Duke no longer lives-we desire to
know the truth."
" What traitor dares spread such falsehoods?" said
Ramorny.
" All who have gone out to skirt the forest, my lord,
and I myself among others, bring back the same news.
The minstrel woman who left the Castle yesterday has
spread the report every where, that the Duke of Rothsay
is murdered, or at death's door.  The Douglas comes on
us with a strong force-"




ST. VALENTINE1S DAY.
"' And you, cowards, take advantage of an idle report
lo forsake your master?" said Ramorny, indignantly.
"My lord," said Eviot, " let Buncle and myself see the
Duke of Rothsay, and receive his personal orders for defence of this Castle, and if we do not fight to the death
in that quarrel, I will consent to be hanged on its highest
turret. But if he be gone by natural disease, we will
yield up the Castle to the Earl of Douglas, who is, they
say, the King's Lieutenant-Or if,-which Heaven forefend!-the noble Prince has had foul play, we will not
involve ourselves in the guilt of using arms in defence of
the murderers, be they who they will."
"' Evict,"9 said Ramorny, raising his mutilated arm,
" had not that glove been empty, thou hadst not lived to
utter two words of this insolence."
"' It is as it is-" answered Eviot,'" and we do but
our duty.  I have followed you long, my lord, but here I
draw bridle."
" Farewell, then, and a curse light on all of you!"
exclaimed the incensed Baron.   " Let my horse be
brought forth!"
I Our Valiancy is about to run away,'" said the mediciner, who had crept close to Catharine's side before she
was aware.   C Catharine, thou art a superstitious fool,
like most women; nevertheless thou hast some mnind, and
I speak to thee as one of more understanding than the
bu:ffaloes which are herding about us.  These haughty
barons who overstride the world, what are they in the day
of adversity?-chaff before the wind.  Let their sledgehammer hands, or their column-resembling legs, have
injury, and bah!-the men-at-arms are gone —heart and
courage is nothing to them, lithe and limb everything-.give them animal strength, what are they better than f!1rious bulls-take that away, and your hero of chivalry
lies grovelling like the brute when he is hamstrung.  Not
so the Sage; while a grain of sense remains in a crushed
or mutilated frame, his mind shall be strong as ever.Catharine, this morning I was practising your death; but
methinks I now rejoice that you may survive, to tell how




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.             20I
the poor mediciner, the pill-gilder, the mortar-pounder,
the poison-vender, met his fate, in company with the gallant Knight of Ramorny, Baron in possession, and Earl
of Lindores in expectation —God save his lordship!"' Old man," said Catharine, " if thou be indeed so
near the day of thy deserved doom, other thoughts were
far wholesomer than the vain-glorious ravings of a vain
philosophy. —Ask to see a holy man-'"
1' Yes," said Dwining, scornfully,' refer myself to a
greasy monk, who does not —he! he! he!-understand
the barbarous Latin he repeats by rote. Such would be a
fitting counsellor to one who has studied both in Spain and
Arabia! No, Catharine, I will choose a confessor that is
pleasant to look upon, and you shall be honoured with the
office. —-Now, look yonder at his Valiancy-his eyebrow
drops with moisture, his lip trembles with agony; for his
Valiancy,-lhe! he! he e!-is pleading for his life with his
late domestics, and has not eloquence enough to persuade
them to let him slip. See how the fibres of his face work
as he implores the ungrateful brutes, whom he has heaped
with obligations, to permit him to get such a start for his
life as the hare has from the greyhounds when men course
her fairly.  Look also at the sullen, downcast, dogged
faces with which, fluctuating between fear and shame, the
domestic traitors deny their lord this poor chance for his
life.  These things thought themselves the superior of a
man like me! and you, foolish wench, think so meanly of
your Deity, as to suppose wretches like them are the work
of Omnipotence!"
" No! man of evil, no!" said Catharine, warmly;
" the God I worship created these men with the attributes
to know and adore him, to guard and defend their fellowcreatures, to practise holiness and virtue.  Their own
vices, and the temptations of the Evil One, have made
tlhem such as they now are.  Oh, take the lesson home to
thine own heart of adamant! Heaven made thee wiser'han thy fellows, gave thee eyes to look into the secrets
of nature, a sagacious heart and a skilful hand; but thy




204           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
pride has poisoned all these fair gifts, and made an ungodly Atheist of one who might have been a Christian sage!'
~' Atheist, say'st thou?" answered Dwining; " perhaps
I have doubts on that matter-but they will be soon solved.
Yonder comes one who will send me, as he has done thousands, to the place where all mysteries shall be cleared."
Catharine followed the mediciner's eye up one of the
forest glades, and beheld it occupied by a body of horsemen advancing at full gallop. In the midst was a pennon
displayed, which, though its bearings were not visible to
Catharine, was, by a murmur around, acknowledged as
that of the Black Douglas.  They halted within arrowvshot of the Castle, and a herald with two trumpets advanced up to the main portal, where, after a loud flourish,
he demanded admittance for the high and dreaded Archibald Earl of Douglas, Lord Lieutenant of the King, and
acting for the time with the plenary authority of his Majesty; commanding, at the same time, that the inmates of
the Castle should lay down their arms, all under penalty
of high treason.
"' You hear?" said Eviot to Ramorny, who stood sullen
and undecided.  a Will you give orders to render the
Castle, or must I —-— "
6' No, villain!" interrupted the knight, "' to the last I
will command you.  Open the gates, drop the bridge,
and render the Castle to the Douglas."
"Nowv that's what may be called a gallant exertion of
free-will," said Dwining.  "1 Just as if the pieces of brass
that were screaming a minute since, should pretend to
call those notes their own, which are breathed through
them by a frowsy trumpeter."
" Wretched man," said Catharine, 1" either be silent,
or turn thy thoughts to the eternity on the brink of which
thou art standing."
"1 And what is that to thee?"  answered Dwining.
" Thou canst not, wench, help hearing what I say to thee,
anld thou wilt tell it again, for thy sex cannot help that
eithler. Perth and all Scotland shall know, what a man
they have lost in Henbane Dwining!'"




ST. VALENTINE)S DAY.             205
The clash of armour now announced that the new
comers had dismounted and entered the Castle, and were
in the act of disarming the small garrison.  Earl Douglas
himself appeared on the battlements, with a few of his
followers, and signed to them to take Ramorny and Dwining into custody.  Others dragged from some nook, the
stupified Bonthron.
s "It was to these three that the custody of the Prince
was solely committed, during his alleged illness?" said
the Douglas, prosecuting an inquiry which lie had commenced in the hall of the Castle.
"' No other saw him, my lord," said Eviot, " though
I offered my services."
" Conduct us to the Duke's apartment, and bring the
prisoners with us-Also there should be a female in thile
Castle, if she hath not been murdered or spirited awaythe companion of the glee-maiden who brought the first
alarm."
" She is here, my lord," said Eviot, bringing Cathafine forward.
Her beauty and her agitation made some impression
even upon the impassable Earl.
"' Fear nothing, maiden," he said; "thou hast deserved both praise and reward. Tell to me, as thou would'st
confess to Heaven, the things thou hast witnessed in this
Castle?'"
Few words served Catharine to unfold the dreadful
story.
" It agrees," said the Douglas, "6 with the tale of the
glee-maiden, from point to point. —Now show us the
Prince's apartment."
They passed to the room which the unhappy Duke ot
Rotllsay had been supposed to inhabit; but the key was
not to be found, and the Earl could only obtain entrance
by forcing the door. On entering, the wasted and squallid
remains of the unhappy Prince were discovered, flung on
the bed as if in haste.  The intention of the murderers
had apparently been to arrange the dead body, so as to
18  vOL. Ii.




206           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
resemble a timely parted corpse, but they had been disconcerted by the alarm occasioned by the escape of
Louise.  Douglas looked on the body of the misguided
youth, whose wild passions and caprices had brought him
to this fatal and premature catastrophe.
" I had wrongs to be redressed," he said; " but to see
such a sight as this banishes all remembrance of injury."
-" He! he! —It should have been arranged," said
Dwining, "' more to your omnipotence's pleasure; but
you came suddenly on us, and hasty masters make slovenly service."
Douglas seemed not to hear what his prisoner said, so
closely did he examine the wan and wasted features, and
stiffened limbs, of the dead body before him.  Catharine, overcome by sickness and fainting, at length obtained permission to retire from the dreadful scene, and,
through conftsion of every description, found her way to
her former apartment, where she was locked in the arms
of Louise, who had returned in the interval.
The investigations of Douglas proceeded. The dying
hand of the Prince was found to be clenched upon a lock
of hair, resembling, in colour and texture, the coal-black
bristles of Bonthron.  Thus, though famine had begun
the work, it would seem that Rothsay's death had been
finally accomplished by violence.  The private stair to
the dungeon, the keys of which were found at the subaltern assassin's belt,-the situation of the vault, its commnunication with the external air by the fissure in the walls,
and the wretched layer of straw, with the fetters which
remained there,-fully confirmed the story of Catharine
and of the glee-woman.
6; We will not hesitate an instant," said the Douglas to
his near kinsman, the Lord Balveny, as soon as they returned from the dungeon. "' Away with the murderers!
bang them over the battlements."
"' But, my lord, some trial may be fitting,"l answered
Balveny.
" To what purpose?" answered Douglas.  "c I have
taken them red-hand; n7my authority will stretch to instant




ST. VALErNTINE S DAY.            207
execution.  Yet stay-have we not some Jedwood men
in our troop?"
" Plenty of Turnbulls, Rutherfords, Ainslies, and so
forth," said Balveny.
"Call me an inquest of these together; they are all
good men and true, saving a little sbiftiing for their living.
Do you see to the execution of these felons, while I hold
a court in the great hall, and we'll try whether the jury
or the provost-marshal do their work first; we will have
Jedwood justice,-hang in haste, and try at leisure."
"Yet stay, my lord," said Ramorny,'" you may rue
your haste-Will you grant me a word out of ear-shot?"
"' Not for worlds!" said Douglas;'; speak out what
thou hast to say before all that are here present."
" JKnow all, then," said Ramorny, aloud, " that this
noble Earl had letters from the Duke of Albany and nmyself, sent him by the hand of yon cowardly deserter, Buncle-let him deny it if he dare,-counselling the removal
of the Duke for a space from court, and his seclusion in
this Castle of Falkland."
" But not a word," replied Douglas, sternly smiling,
6" Of his being flung into a dungeon-~famished-strangled.
-Away with the wretches, Balveny, they pollute God's
air too long!"
The prisoners were dragged off to the battlements. But
while the means of execution were in the act of being
prepared, the apothecary expressed so ardent a desire to
see Catharine once more, and, as he said, for the good of
his soul, that the maiden, in hopes his obduracy might
have undergone some change even at the last hour, consented again to go to the battlements, and face a scene
which her heart recoiled from. A single glance showed
her Bonthron, sunk in total and drunken insensibility;
Ramorny, stripped of his armour, endeavouring in vain to
conceal fear, while lie spoke with a priest, whose good
)ffices he had solicited; and Dwining, the same humble,
obsequious-looking, crouching individual she had always,known him.  He held in his hand a little silver pen, with
vwhich he had been writing on a scrap of parchment.




208           ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.
"Catliarine,' he said, —" he, he, he!-I wish to speak
to thee on the nature of my religious faith."
c" If such be thy intention, why lose time with me?Speak with this good father."
" The good father," said Dxwining, " is —he, he!already a worshipper of the Deity whom I have served.
I therefore prefer to give the altar of mine idol a new
worshipper in thee, Catharine. This scrap of parchment
will tell thee how to make your way into my chapel, where
I have worshipped so often in safety. I leave the images
which it contains to thee as a legacy, simply because I hate
and contemn thee something less than any of the absurd
wretches whom I have hitherto been obliged to call fellowcreatures.  And now away, or remain and see if the end
of the quacksalver belies his life."
"' Our Lady forbid!" said Catharine.
" Nay," said the mediciner, "' I have but a single word
to say, and yonder nobleman's valiancy may hear it if he
will."
Lord Balveny approached, with some curiosity; for the
undaunted resolution of a man who never wielded sword or
bore armour, and was in person a poor dwindled dwarf,
had to him an air of something resembling sorcery.
"6 You see this trifling implement," said the criminal,
showing the silver pen. "By means of this I can escape
the power even of the Black Douglas."
-" Give him no ink nor paper," said Balveny, hastily,
" he will draw a spell."
"s Not so, please your wisdom and valiancy,-he, he,
he!"-said Dwining, with his usual chuckle, as he unscrewed the top of the pen, within which -was a piece ot
sponge, or some such substance, no bigger than a pea.
" Now mark this- " said the prisoner, and drew it between his lips. The effect was instantaneous.  He lay
a dead corpse before them, the contemptuous sneer still on
his countenance.
Catharine shrieked and fled, seeking, by a hasty des:ent, an escape from a sight so appalling. Lord Balveny
w as for a moment stupified, and then exclaimed, "r This




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.             209
may be glamour! hang him over the battlements, quick
or dead.  If his foul spirit bath only withdrawn ior a
space, it shall return to a body with a dislocated neck."
His commands were obeyed. Ramorny and Bonthron
were then ordered for execution.  The last was hanged
before he seemed quite to comprehend what was designed
to be done with him.  Ramorny, pale as death, yet with
the same spirit of pride which had occasioned his ruin,
pleaded his knighthood, and demanded the privilege of
dying by decapitation by the sword, and not by the noose.
" The Douglas never alters his doom," said Balveny.
But thou shalt have all thy rights.-Send the cook
hither with a cleaver."  The menial whom he called appeared at his summons.  " What shakest thou for, fellow?'9 said Balveny; " here, strike me this man's gilt
spurs from his heels with thy cleaver —And now, John
Ramorny, thou art no longer a knight, but a knave-To
the halter with him, provost-marshal! hang him betwixt
his companions, and higher than them if it may be."
In a quarter of an hour afterwards, Balveny descended
to tell the Douglas that the criminals were executed.
" Then there is no further use in the trial," said tie
Earl.  " How say you, good men of inquest, were these
men guilty of high-treason-ay or no?"
a Guilty," exclaimed the obsequious inquest, with edifying unanimity, "6 we need no farther evidence."' Sound trumpets, and to horse then, with our own
train only; and let each man keep silence on what has
chanced here, until the proceedings shall be laid before
the King, which cannot conveniently be till the battle of
Palm Sunday shall be fought and ended.  Select our attendants, and tell each man who either goes with us or
remains behind, that he who prates dies."
In a few minutes the Douglas was on horseback, with
the followers selected to attend his person.  Expresses
were sent to his daughter, the widowed Duchess of Rothsay, directing her to take her course to Perth, by the
shores of Lochleven, without approaching Falkland, and
voL,. si.




210            ST. YALENTINE S DAY.
committing to her charge Catharine Glover and the gleewoman, as persons whose safety he tendered."
As they rode through the forest, they looked back, and
beheld the three bodies hanging, like specks darkening
the walls of the old castle.
" The hand is punished," said Douglas;' but who
shall arraign the head by whose direction the act was done."
"' You mean the Duke of' Albany?" said Balveny.
" I do, kinsman; and were I to listen to the dictates
of my heart, I would charge him with the deed, which I
am certain he has authorized. But there is no proof of
it beyond strong suspicion, and Albany has attached to
himself the numerous friends of the House of Stewart,
to whom, indeed, the imbecility of the King, and the illregulated habits of Rothsay, left no other choice of a
leader.  Were I, therefore, to break the band which I
have so lately formed with Albany, the consequence must
be civil war, an event ruinous to poor Scotland, while
threatened by invasion from the activity of the Percy,
backed by the treachery of March.  No, Balveny-the
punishment of Albany must rest with Heaven, which, in
its own good time, will execute judgment on him and on
his house."
CHAPTER XVI.
The hour is nigh: now hearts beat high:
Each sword is sharpened well;
And who dares die, who stoops to fly,
To-morrow's light shall tell.
Sir Edw;ald.
WE are now to recall to our reader's recollection, tmhat
Simon Glover and his fair daughter had been hurried firom
their residence without having time to announce to Henry
Smith, either their departure or the alarming cause of it.
When, therefore, the lover appeared in Curfew Street, on
the morning of their flight, instead of the hearty welcome
of the honest burgher, and the April reception, half joy
lhalf censure, which he had been promised on the part of
his lovely daughter, he received only the astounding ill




ST. VALENTINE1 S DAY.             f11.eiligence, that her father and she had set off early, on
thle summons of a stranger, who had kept himself carefully muffled fiom observation.  To this, Dorothy, whose
talents for forestalling evil, and communicating her views
of it, are known to the reader, chose to add, that she had
no doubt her master and young mistress were bound for
the Highlands, to avoid a visit which had been made since
their departure, by two or three apparitors, who, in the
name of a Commission appointed by the King, had searched the house, put seals upon such places as were supposed
to contain papers, and left citations for father and daughter to appear before the Court of Commission on a day
certain, under pain of outlawry. All these alarming particulars Dorothy took care to state in the gloomiest colours, and the only consolation which she afforded the
alarmed lover was, that her master had charged her to
tell him to reside quietly at Perth, and that he should soon
hear news of them.  This checked the Smith's first resolve, which was to follow them instantly to the Highlands,
and partake the fate which they might encounter.
But when he recollected his repeated feuds with divers
of the Clan Quhele, and particularly his personal quarrel
with Conachar, who was now raised to be a high chief, he
could not but think, on reflection, that his intrusion on
their place of retirement was more likely to disturb the
safety which they might otherwise enjoy there, than be ot
any service to them.  He was well acquainted with Simon's habitual intimacy with the Chief of the Clan
Quhele, and justly augured that the Glover would obtain
protection, which his own arrival might be likely to disturb, while his personal prowess could little avail him in a
quarrel with a whole tribe of vindictive mountaineers. At
the same time his heart throbbed with indignation, when
le thought of Catharine being within the absolute power
of young Conachar, whose rivalry he could not doubt,
and who had now so many means of urging his suit. What
if the young Chief should make the safety of the father
depend on the favour of the daughter? He distrusted not
Catharine's affections; but then her mode of thinking
was so disinterested, and her attachmenttoher father so




212           ST. VALENTINE S D1A.
tender, that, if the love she bore her suior was weighed
against his security, or perhaps his life, it was matter of
deep and awful doubt, whether it might not be found light
in the balance.  Tormented by thoughts on which we
need not dwell, he resolved nevertheless to remain at
home, stifle his anxiety as he might, and await the promnised intelligence from the old man.  It came, but it did
not relieve his concern.
Sir Patrick Charteris had not forgotten his promise to
communicate to the Smith the plans of the fugitives. But
amid the bustle occasioned by the movement of troops,
he could not himself convey the intelligence. He therefore intrusted to his agent, Kitt Henshaw, the task of
making it known.  But this worthy person, as the reader
knows, was in the interest of Ramorny, whose business
it was to conceal from every one, but especially from a
lover so active and daring as Henry, the real place of
Catharine's residence.  Henshaw therefore announced
to the anxious Smith, that his friend the Glover was secure in the Highlands; arid though he affected to be
more reserved on the subject of Catharine, he said little
to contradict the belief, that she as well as Simon shared
the protection of the Clan Quhele. But he reiterated,
in the name of Sir Patrick, assurances that father and
daughter were both well, and that Henry would best consult his own interest and their safety, by remaining quiet,
and waiting the course of events.
With an agonized heart, therefore, Henry Gow determined to remain quiet till he had more certain intelligence,
and employed himself in finishing a shirt of mail, which
he intended should be the best tempered, and the most
finely polished, that his skilful hands had ever executed.
This exercise of his craft pleased him better than any
other occupation which he could have adopted, and serv.
ed as an apology for secluding himself in his work-shop,
and shunning society, where the idle reports which were
daily circulated, served only to perplex and disturb him.
Hie resolved to trust in the warm regard of Si non, the
faith of his daughter, and the friendship of the Provost,




ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.            213
who, having so highly commended his valour in the combat with Bonthron, would never, he thought, desert him
at this extremity of his fortunes. Time, however, passed on day by day; and it was not till Palm Sunday was
near approaching, that Sir Patrick Charteris, having entered the city to make some arrangements for the ensuing
combat, bethought himself of making a visit to the Smith
of the Wynd.
He entered his work-shop with an air of sympathy
unusual to him, and which made Henry instantly augur
that he brought bad news.  The Smith caught the alarm,
and the uplifted hammer was arrested in its descent upon
the heated iron, while the agitated arm that wielded k
strong before as that of a giant, became so powerless, that
it was with difficulty Henry was able to place the weapon
on the ground, instead of dropping it from his hand.
" My poor Henry," said Sir Patrick, " I bring you
but cold news-they are uncertain, however; and, if
true, they are such as a brave man like you should not
take too deeply to heart."
" In God's name, my lord," said Henry, "I trust you
bring no evil news of Simon Glover or his daughter?"
"Touching themselves," said Sir Patrick, " no; they
are safe and well. But as to thee, Henry, my tidings
are more cold. Kitt Henshaw has, I think, apprised thee
that I had endeavoured to provide Catharine Glover with
a safe protection in the house of an honourable lady, the
Duchess of Rothsay. But she hath declined the charge;
and Catharine hath been sent to her father in the Highlands. What is worst is to come.  Thou mayest have
heard that Gilchrist Maclan is dead, and that his son
Eachin, who was known in Perth as the apprentice of old
Simon, by the name of Conachar, is now the chief of
Clan Quhele; and I heard from one of my domestics,
that there is a strong rumour among the Maclans, that
the young Chief seeks the hand of Catharine in marriage.
My domestic learned this (as a secret, however) while in
ihe Breadalbane country, on some arrangements touching




214           ST. VALENrTINE S DAY.
the ensuing combat.  The thing is uncertain; but, Henry, it wears a face of likelihood."
" Did your lordship's servant see Simon Glover and
his daughter?" said Henry, struggling for breath, and
coughing, to conceal from the Provost the excess of his
agitation.' He did not," said Sir Patrick; " the Highlanders
seemed jealous, and refused to permit him to speak to
the old man, and he feared to alarm them by asking to
see Catharine. Besides he talks no Gaelic, nor had his
informer much English, so there may be some mistake
in the matter.  Nevertheless there is such a report, and
I thought it best to tell it you.  But you may be well
assured, that the wedding cannot go on till the affair of
Palm Sunday be over; and I advise you to take no step
till we learn the circumstances of the matter, for certainty
is most desirable, even when it is painful.-Go you to
the Council-house," he added, after a pause, 1" to speak
about the preparations for the lists in the North Inch?
You will be welcome there."
a No, my good lord."
L' Well, Smith, I judge by your brief answer, that you
are discomposed with this matter; but after all, women
are weathercocks, that is the truth on't.  Solomon and
others have proved it before you."
And so Sir Patrick Charteris retired, fully convinced
lie had discharged the office of a comforter in the most
satisfactory manner.
With very different impressions did the unfortunate
lover regard the tidings, and listen to the consoling commentary.
" The Provost," he said bitterly to himself, " is an excellent man; marry, le holds his knighthood so high, that
if he speaks nonsense, a poor man must hold it sense, as he
must praise dead ale if it be handed to him in his lordship's
silver flagon.  How would all this sound in another situation? Suppose I were rolling down the steep descent of
the Corrichie Dhu, and before I came to the edge of the
sock, comes my lord Provost, and cries,' Henry, there is




ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.             215
a deep precipice, and I grieve to say you are in the fair
way of' rolling over it.  But be not downcast, for Heaven
may send a stone or a bush to stop your progress.  However, I thought it would be comfort to you to know the
worst, which you will be presently aware of:  I do not
knoxv how many hundred feet deep the precipice descends, but you may form a judgment when you are at
the bottorn, for certainty is certainty.  And hark ye, when
comle you to take a game at bowls?' And this gossip is
to serve instead of any firiendly attempt to save the poor
wight's neck! When I think of this, I could go mad,
seize my hammer, and break and destroy all around me.
But I will be calmn; and if this Highland kite, who calls
himself a falcon, should stoop at my turtle dove, he shall
know whether a burgess of Perth can draw a bow or not."'
It was now the Thursday before the fated Palm Sunday, and the champions on either side were expected to
arrive the next day, that they might have the interval of
Saturday to rest, refresh themselves, and prepare for the
combat.  Two or three of each of the contending parties were detached to receive directions about the encampment of their little band, and such other instructions as
might be necessary to the proper ordering of the field.
Henry was not, therefore, surprised, at seeing a tall and
powerful li.ighlander peering anxiously about the wynd
in which he lived, in the manner in which'the natives of
a wild country examine the curiosities of one that is mlore
civilized.  The Smith's heart rose against the man, on
account of his country, to which our Perth Burgher bore
a natural prejudice, and more especially as he observed
the individual wear the plaid peculiar to the Clan Quhele.
The sprig of oak-leaves, worked in silk, intimated also
that the individual was one of those personal guards of
young Eachin, upon whose exertions in tile future battle
so much reliance was placed by those of their clan.
Having observed so much, Henry withdrew into his
c6mithy, for the sight of the man raised his passion; and
knowing that the Highlander came plighted to a solemn
combat, and could not be the subject of any inferior quar



216           ST. VALENTINE' S DAY.
rel, he was resolved at least to avoid friendly intercourse
with him.  In a few minutes, however, the door of the
smithy flew open, and fluttering in his tartans, which
greatly magnified his actual size, the Gael entered with
the haughty step of a man conscious of a personal dignity
superior to any thing which he is likely to meet with.
He stood looking around him. and seemed to expect to
be received with courtesy, and regarded with wonder.
But Henry had no sort of inclination to indulge his vanity,
and kept hammering away at a breast-plate, which was
lying upon his anvil, as if he were not aware of his visiter's presence.:" You are the Gow  Chron?"  (the bandy-legged
smith,) said the Highlander.
" Those that wish to be crook-back call me so," answered Henry.
C" No offence meant," said the Highlander; " but her
own self comes to buy an armour."
" Her own self's bare shanks may trot hence with
hler," answered Henry,-" I have none to sell."
" If it was not within two days of Palhn Sunday, herself
would make you sing another song," retorted the Gael.
"And being the day it is," said Henry, with the same
contemptuous indifference, " I pray you to stand out of
my light."
" You are an uncivil person; but her own self is fir
nan ordS2too; and she knows the smith is fiery when the
iron is hot."
"' If her nainsell be hammer-man hersell, her nainsll1
may make her nain harness," replied Henry.
" And so her nainsell would, and never fash you for
the matter; but it is said, Gow  Chrom, that you sing
and whistle tunes over the swords and harnishes that you
work, that have power to make the blades cut steel-links
as if they were paper, and the plate and mail turn back
steel-lances as if they were boddle prins?"
" They tell your ignorance any nonsense that Christian
mnen refuse to believe," said Henry.  " I vwhistle at my
work whatever comes uppermost, like an honest crnfi:



ST. vYALENTINE' S DAY.,~1
man, and colmulonly it is the Highlandman's I Ocll hone
fotr H-oughmanstairs!M29 My hammer goes naturally to that
tune."
66 Friend, it is but idle to spur a horse when his legs
are haimshackled," said the Highlander, haughtily. "; Her
own self cannot fight even now, and there is little gallantry in taunting her thus."
" By nails and hammer, you are right there," said the
Smith, altering his tone.  " But speak out at once, Ifriendlc
what is it thou would'st have of me? I am in no humour
for dallying."'" A hauberk for her Chief, Eachin IMiaclan," said the
Highlander.
"' You are a hammnerman, you say? Are you a judge,
of this?" said our Smith, producing from  a chest the
mail shirt on which he had been lately employed.
The Gael handled it with a degree of admiration which
hlad something of envy in it.  He looked curiously at
every part of its texture, and at length declared it the
very best piece of armour that he had ever seen.
" A hundred cows and bullocks, and a good drift
of sheep, would be e'en ower cheap an offer," said tile
Highlandman, by way of tentative; " but her nainsell
vill never bid thee less, come by them how she can."
6 It is a fair proftbr,"  replied Henry;'" but gold nor
gear will never buy that harness.  1. want to try my ownv
sword on my own armour; and I will not give that
mail-coat to any one but who will face me for tile best of
three blows and a thrust in the fair field; and it is your
Chief's upon these terms."
I Hut, prut, man-take a drink, and go to bed,"' said
the Highlander, in great scorn. c' Are ye mad?  Think
ye the Captain of the Clan Quhele will be brawling and
battling with a bit Perth burgess body like you?  Whisht,
man, and hearken. Her nainsell will do ye mair credit
than ever belonged to your kin.  She will fight you for
the fair harness hersell.'"
19  VOL.:1.




.18           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
She must first show that she is my match,' saia
Henry, with a grim smile.
Howv! I, one of Eachin IMaclan's Leichtach, and
not your match!"
" You may try me, if you will. You say you are afiu
nan ord-Do you know how to cast a sledge-hammer?"
"Ay, truly-ask the eagle if he can fly over Ferragon."
" But before you strive with me, you must first try a
cast with one of my Leichtach.-Here, Dunter, stand
forth for the honour of Perth!-And now, Highlandman,
there stands a row of hammers —choose which you will,
and let us to the garden."
The Highlander, whose name was Norman nan Ord,
or Norman of the Hammer, showed his title to the epithet by selecting the largest hammer of the set, at which
Henry smiled.  Dunter, the stout journeyman of the
Smith, made what was called a prodigious cast; but the
Highlander, making a desperate effort, threw beyond it by
two or three feet, and looked with an air of triumph to
Henry, who again smiled in reply.
" Will you mend that?" said the Gael, offering our
Smith the hammer.
~" Not with that child's toy," said Henry, " which has
scarce weight to fly against the wind.-Janniken, fetcll
me Sampson; or one of you help the boy, for Sampson
is somewhat ponderous."
The hammer now produced was half as heavy again
as that which the Highlander had selected as one of unusual weight.  Norman stood astonished; but he wias
still more so when Henry, taking his position, swung the
ponderous implement far behind his right haunchjoilnt,
and dismissed it from his hand as if it had flown fronm a
warlike engine.  The air groaned and whistled as the
mass flew through it. Down at length it came, and the
iron head sunk a foot into the earth, a full yard beyond
the cast of Norman.
The Highlander, defeated and mortified, went to the
spot where the weapon lay, lifted it, poised it in his hand
with great wonder-, and examined it closely, as if' lhe cx



ST. N ALENTINEt'     S DAY.         219
pected to discover more in it than a common hammer
lHe at length returned it to the owner with a melancholy
smile, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head, as
the Smith asked him whether he would not mend his cast.
" Norman has lost too much at the sport already," he
replied. " She has lost her own name of the Hammeter.
But does her ownself, the Gow Chrom, work at the anvil
with that horse's load of iron?"
"' You shall see, brother," said Henry leading the way
to the smithy.  " Dunter," lie said, " rax me that bar
from the furnace;" and uplifting Samnpson, as he called
the monstrous hammer, he plied the metal with a hundred
strokes from right to left-now with the right hand, now
with the left, now with both, with so much strength at
once, and dexterity, that he worked off a small but beautifully proportioned horse-shoe in half the time that an ordinary smith would have taken for the same purpose, using
a more manageable implement.
" Oigh, oigh!" said the Highlander, " and what for
would you be fighlting with our young Chief, who is far
above your standard, though you were the best smith ever wrought with wind and fire?''6 Hark you!" said Henry-" You seem a good fellow,
and I'll tell you the truth.  Your master has wvronged
me, and I give him this harness freely for the chance of
figllting him mnyself.";~ Nay, if hle hath wronged you, he must meet you,"
said the life-guardsman.'o (10o a man wrong takes the
eagle's feather out of the Chief's bonnet; and were he
the first in the Highltands, and to be sure so is Eachin, lihe
must fight the man hle has wronged, or else a rose falls
fiomn his chaplet."'" Will you move hiin to tllis," said HenrTy, " after the
fight on Sunday?"
Oh, her nainseil will do fher best, if the havwks lhave
not got her nainsell's bones to pick; for you nlusit k3now,
Irothlclm that Cla n Ihattan's claws pierce rather deepl




220           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.'The armour is your Chief's on that condition," said
Henry; " but I will disgrace him before King and Court
if he does not pay me the price."
6" Deil a fear, deil a fear; I will bring him in to the
barrace myself," said Norman, s" assuredly."
" You will do me a pleasure," replied Henry; " and
that you may remember your promise, I will bestow on
you this dirk.  Look-if you hold it truly, and can strike
between the mail-hood and the collar of your enemy, the
surgeon will be needless."
The Highlander was lavish in his expressions of gratitude and took his leave.
6" I have given him the best mail harness I ever
wrought," said the Smith to himself, rather repenting his
liberality, "6 for the poor chance that he will bring his
Chief into a fair field with me; and then let Catharine be
his who can win her fairly.  But much I dread the youth
will find some evasion, unless he have such luck on Palm
Sunday as may induce him to try another combat. That
is some hope, however; for I have often, ere now, seen
a raw young fellow, shoot up after his first fight, from a
dwarf into a giant-queller."
Thus, with little hope, but with the most determined
resolution, Henry Smith awaited the time that should decide his fate.  What made him augur the worst, was the
silence both of the Glover and of his daughter. They are
ashamed, he said, to confess the truth to me, and therefore they are silent.
Upon the Friday at noon, the two bands of thirty men
each, representing the contending Clans, arrived at the
several points where they were to halt for refreshments.
The Clan Quhele was entertained hospitably at the
rich Abbey of Scone, while the provost regailed their rivals at his Castle of Kinfauns; the utmost care being taken
to treat both parties with the most punctilious attention,
and to afford neither an opportunity of complaining of partiality.  All points of etiquette were, in the meanwhile,
discussed and settled by the Lord High Constable Ero!l, and the young Earl of Crawford, the former acting




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               221
on the part of the Clan Chattan, and the latter patronising the Clan Quhele.  Messengers were passing continually from the one Earlto the other, and they held more
than six meetings within thirty hours, before the cerelnonial of the field could be exactly arranged.
Meanwhile, in case of revival of ancient quarrel, Ianly
seeds of which existed betwixt tile bufrghers and their
mountain neighbours, a proclamation cornlmanded the citizens not to approach within half a mile of the place where
the Highlanders were quartered; while on their part thle
intended combatants were prohibited firoln approaching
Pdih without special license.  Troops were stationed to
enforce this order, who did their charge so scrupulously,
as to prevent Simon Glover himself, burgess and citizen
of Perth, from approaching the town, because he owned
havinog come thither at the same time with the champiolns
of Eachin Maclan, and wore a plaid around him of their
check or pattern. This interruption prevented Simon fi'omn
seeking out Henry Wynd, and possessing him with a true
knowledge of all that had happened since their separation, which intercourse, had it taken place, must have materially altered the catastrophe of our narrative.
On Saturday afternoon another arrival took place,
which interested the city almost as much as the prepa —
rations for the expected combat. This was the approach
of the Earl Douglas, who rode through the town with
a troop of only thirty horse, but all of whom were knights
and gentlemen of the first consequence.  liMen's eyes fol]owed this dreaded peer as they pursue the flight of an
eagle through the clouds, unable to ken the course of the
bird of Jove, yet silent, attentive, and as earnest in observing him, as if they could guess the object for which
he sweeps thlroughll the firmament. t He rode slowly tl.rough
the city, and passed out at the northern gate.  He next
aliglhted at tile Dominican Convent, and desired to see
tile Duke of Albany. The Earl was introduced instantly, and received by the Duke with a manner which was
meant to be graceful and conciliatory, but which could
19*  VOL. II.




222           ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
not conceal both art and inquietude. When the first greetings were over, the Earl said with great gravity, "1 I bring
you melancholy news.  Your Grace's royal nephew, the
Duke of Rothlsay, is no more, and I fear hathll perislled
by some foul lpractices."
" Practices!" said the Duke, in confusion, "' what
practices? —who dared practice on the heir of the Scottish
throne?"
"'Tis not for me to state how  these doubts arise,,
said Douglas —" but men say the eagle was killed with
an arrow fledged from  his own wing, and the oak trqlk
rent by a wedge of the same wood."
"Earl of Douglas," said the Duke of Albany,'" I am
no reader of riddles."
"Noralmn J a propounder of them," said Douglas, haughtily.  " Your Grace will find particularsin these papers
worthy of perusal. I will go for half an hour to the cloister gardena,0and then rejoin you."' You go not to the king, my lord?" said Albany.
" No," answered Douglas; " I trust your grace will
agiree with me that we should conceal this great family
misfortune fiom our Sovereign till the business of tomorrow be decided."
I"  willingly agree," said Albany. " f the King heard
of this loss, lie could not witness the comlbat; and if he
appear not in person, these men are likely to refuse to
fighlt, and the whole work is cast loose.  But I pray you
sit down, my lord, while I read these nmelancholy papers
respecting poor Rotllsay."
He passed the papers through his hands, turning some
over with a hasty glance, and dwvelling on othlers as if
their contents had been of the last importance. When hl
had spent nearly a quarter of an hour in this manner, 11i
raised his eyes, and said very gravely, " My lord, in these
most melancholy documents, it is yet a comfort to see
nothing which can renew the divisions in the King's councils, which were settled by the last solemn agreement betxveen your lordship and myself.  My unhappy nephew
was by that agreement to be set aside, until Time should




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.                    223
send him a graver judgment. He is now removed by
Fate, and our purpose in that matter is anticipated and
reniiered unnecessary.'
7 If y-our Grace,"' replied the Earl,'" sees nothing to
dis-turb thle good understandilg vwhich tile tranquillity and
sa. ety of Scotland require should exist between us, I ant
not so i11 a friernd of my country as to look closely for
such."
11 I understand you, my Lord of Douglas," said Albany, eagerly. "' You hastily judge that I should be offended with your lordship lbr exercising your powers of Lieutenallcy, and punishing the detestable murderers withinl
my territory of Falkland.  Credit me, on the contrary, I
am obliged to your lordship for taking out of my hands
the punishment of these wretches, as it would have broken my heart even to have looked on them.  The Scottish
Parliament will inquire, doubtless, into this sacrilegious
deed; and happy am I that the aven-ging sword has been
in the hand of a man so important as your lordship. Our
communication together, as your lordship must well recollect, bore only concerning a proposed restraint of my
unfortunate nephew, until the advance of a year or twvo
had taught him discretion?"
CC Such was certainly your Grace's purpose, as expressed to me," said the Earl; " I can safely avouch it."
X1 Why, then, noble Earl, we cannot be censured, because villains, for their own revengeful purposes, appear
to have engrafted a bloody termination on our honest purpose?"
" The Parliament will judge it after their wisdom,"
said Douglas.  " For my part, my conscience acquits
me."' And mine assoilzies mne,  said the Duke, with solemnity.' " Now, my lord, touching the custody of the
boy James,* who succeeds to his father's claims of inheritance?"
* Second son of Robert II., brother of the unfortunate I)uke of Rothsat,
eand afterwards King James I. of Scotland.




224             s'r. v'A L.NTIN'Nl S D)1Y.'L The King must decide it," said Douglas, irapatieni
of the conference.  "1 will consent to his residence any
where save at Stirling, Doune, or Falkland."
With that he left the apartment abruptly.' He is gone," muttel ed the crafty Albany, 1" and he
must be my ally-yet feels himself disposed to be my
mortal foe.  No matter-Rothsay sleeps withll his fathers
-James may follow in time, and then —a crown is the recompense of my perplexities."
CHAPTER XVII.
-    hretty for thretty fauchlt in Barreris,
At Sanct Johnstoun on a day besyde the Black Freris.
Wyzyntoun.
PaLr, SUNDAY now dawned.   At an earlier period of
tlle C1ristian Church, the use of any of the days of Passion Week for tlle purpose of combat, would have been
accounted a profanity worthy of excommunication. The
Church of Rome, to her infinite honour, ihad decided,
that during the holy season of Easter, when the redemption of man frorm  his fallen state was accomplished, the
sword of war should be sheathed, and angry monarchs
should respect the season teirmed the Truce of God. The
ferocious violence of the latter wars betwixt Scotland and
England had destroyed all observance of this decent and
_religious ordinance.  Very  often the most solemn occasions were chosen by one party for an attack, because
they hoped to find the other engaged in religious duties,
and unprovided for (lfeece.    Tlus the truce, onuce con-.
sidered as pro'per to she season, iad been di'scontinlued;
and it becamle not unusu.al even to select the sacred festivals of tvhe churcih for decision of the trial by combat, to
whlich tlhis intended contest bore a considerable resenmblance.
On the present occasion, however, the duties of the,
day were observed with the usual solemnity, and the con)batants themselves took share in them. Bearing branch



S-r. r VAIE NTi[NE'S nla.         225
es of yew in their hands, as the readiest substitute for
palm  boughs, they marched respectively to the Dominican and Carthusian convents, to hear High Mass, and, by
a show at least of devotion, to prepare themselves for the
bloody strife of the day.  Great care had of course been
taken, that, during this march, they should not even come
within the sound of each other's bagpipes; for it was certain that, like game-cocks exchanging mutual notes of defiance, they would have sought out and attacked each
other before they arrived at the place of combat.
The citizens of Perth crowded to see the unusual procession on the streets, and thronged the churches where
the two clans attended their devotions, to witness their
behaviour, and to form a judgment from their appearance
which was most likely to obtain the advantage in the approaching conflict.  Their demeanour in the church, although not hlabitual frequenters of places of devotion,
was perfectly decorous; and, notwithstanding  their wild
and untamed dispositions, there were few of' the mountaineers wvho seemed affected either with curiosity or wonder.  They appeared to think it beneath their dignity of
character to testify either curiosity or surprise at many
things xwhicll were probably then presented to them  for
the first time.
On the issue of the combat, few even of the most competent judges dared venture a prediction; although the
great size of Torquil and his eight stalwart sons, induced
some who professed themselves judges of the thews and
siiews of men, to incline to ascribe the advantage to the
party of the Clan Quhele.  The opinion of the female
sex was rmuchl decided by the handsome form, noble
colntenance, and gallant demeanouL of Eachin MVlaclan-.There were mnore than one who imagined they had recol-!ection of his features; but his splendid military attire
rendered the humble Glover's apprentice unrecognizable
0'i the young 1ighiland Chief, saving by one person.
That persot, as may well be supposed, was the Smith
of the Wynd, who had been the foremost in the crowd
that thronged to see the gallant champions of Clan




226           ST. VAIENTINE S DAY.
Quhele. It was with mingled feelings of dislike, jealousy,
and solnetlhing  approaching to admiration, that he saw the
Glover's apprentice stripped of his mean slough: and blazing forth as a chieftain, who, by his quick eye and gallant demneanour, the noble shape of his brow and throat, hiis
splendid arrns and well-proportioned limTbs, seemed well
wortl'hy to hold the foremost rank among men selected
to live or die for the ]lonour of their race.  The Smlith
could hardly think that lie looked upon the same p'assionate boy, whom he had brushed off as he might a -wasp
that stung him, and, in mere compassion, forebore to
despatch by treading on him.' Hie looks it gallantly with my noble hauberk," thus
muttered Henry to himself, " the best I ever wrought.
Yet if lhie and I stood together where there was neither
hand to help nor eye to see, by all that is blessed in this
1holy church, the good harness should return to its owner!
All that I am worth would I give for three fair blows on
his shoulders to undo my own best work; but such happiness will never be mine.  If he escape firom the conflict, it will be with so high a character for courage, that
he may well disdain to put his fortune, in its freshness, to
the risk of an encounter with a poor burgess like myself.
He will figl:t by his champion, and turn me over to my
fellow-craftsman the Hammerer, when all I can reap will
be the pleasure of knocking a Highland bullock on the
head.  If I could but see Simon Glover!-I wvill to the
other church in quest of hnlim, since for sure he must have
comne down fiorn the Highlands."
The congregation was moving friom the church of the
Dominicans, when the Smith formed this determination,
which he endeavoured to carry into speedy execution, by
thrusting through the crowd as hastily as the solemnity ot
the place and occasion would permit.  In making his way
through the press, he was at one instant carried so close
to Eachin that their eyes encountered.  The Smith's
hardy and embrowned countenance coloureod up like the
heated iron on which lie wrought, and retained its dark
red hue for several minites.  Eachin's features glowed




ST. YALENTINE S IDAY.              227
with a brighter blush of indignation, and a glance of fiery
hatred was shot from his eyes. But the sudden flash died
away in ashy paleness, and his gaze instantly avoided
the unfiriendly but steady look with which it was encountered.
rTorquil, whlose eye never quitted his foster-son, saw
his em-otion, and looked anxiously around to discover the
cause. But Henry was already at a distance, and hasten.ing on his way to the Cartllhusian convent. Here also the
religious service of the day was ended; and those who
had so lately borne palms in honour of the great event
which brought peace on earth, and goocl-will to the clildeln of men, were now streatning to the place of conhl)at;
some prepared to take the lives of their fellow-creatures.,
or to lose their own; others to view the deadly sti.fe,
with the savage delight which tile heathens took in the contest of their gladiators.
The crowd was so great, that any other person mnight
well have despaired of making way through it.  But the
general,deference entertained for Henry of the WXynd,
as the Champion of Perth, and the universal sense of his
ability to force a passage, induced all to unite in yielding
room  for him, so that he was presently quite close to the
warriors of the Clan Chattan. Their pipers marched at the
head of their column. Next followed the well-known banner, displaying a mountain cat ramipant, with the appropriate caution,-" Touch not tlhe cat but (i. e. without)
thie glove."  Thle Chief' followed wiith his two-handed
sword advanced, as if to protect the emblem of the tribe.
lie was a man of middle stature, more than fifty years
old, but betraying, neither in features nor form, any decay of strength, or symptoms of age. His dark-red closecurled locks were in part chequered by a few grizzled
hairs, but his step and gesture were as light in the dance, in
the chase, or in the battle,as if hle had not passed his thirtieth
year. His grey eye gleamted with a wild light expressive of
valour and ferocity mingled; but wisdom and experience
dwelt on the expression of his forehead, eyebrows, and
lips.  The chosen champions followed by two and two




228           ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
There was a cast of anxiety on several of their faces, for
they had that morning discovered the absence of one of
their appointed number; and, in a contest so desperate
as was expected, the loss seemed a matter of importance
to all save to their hligh-rnettled Chief, AMacGillie Chattanach.
" Say nothing to the Saxons of his absence," said this
bold leader, when the diminution of his force was reported to him. " The false Lowland tongues might say that one
of Clan Chattan was a coward, and perhaps that the rest
favoured his escape, in order to have a pretence to avoid
the battle. I am sure that Ferquhard Day will be found
in the ranks ere we are ready for battle; or, if he should
not, am I not man enough for two of the Clan Quhele?.or would we not fight them fifteen to thirty, rather than
lose the renown that this day will bring us?"
The tribe received the brave speech of their leader
with applause, yet there were anxious looks thrown out
in hopes of espying the return of the deserter; and perhaps the Chief himself was the only one of the determined band who was totally indifferent on the subject.
They marched on through the streets without seeing
anything of Ferquhard Day, who, many a mile beyond
the mountains, was busied in receiving such indemnification as successful love could bestow for the loss of honour.  MiacGiilie Chattanach marclhed on without seeming to observe the absence of the deserter, and entered
upon tile North Inch, a beautiful and level plain, closely
adjacent to the city, and appropriated to the martial exercises of the inhabitants.
The plain is washed on one side by the deep and swelling Tay.  There was erected within it a strong palisade,
inclosing on three sides a space of one hundred and fifty
yards in length, and seventy-four yards in width.  The
fourth side of the lists was considered as sufficiently fenced
by the river. An amphitheatre for the accommodation
of spectators surrounded the palisade, leaving a large
space free to be occupied by armed men on foot and horseback, and for the more ordinary class of spectators.  At




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              229
the extremity of the lists, which was nearest to the city,
there was a range of elevated galleries for the King and
his courtiers, so highly decorated with rustic treillage, intermingled with gilded ornaments, that the spot retains to
this day the name of the Golden, or Gilded Arbour.
The mountain minstrelsy, which sounded the appropriate pibrochs or battle-tunes of the rival confederacies,
was silent when they entered on the Inch, for such was
the order- which had been given.  Two stately, but aged
warriors, each bearing the banner of his tribe, advanced
to the opposite extremities of the lists, and pitching their
standards into the earth, prepared to be spectators of a
fight in which they were not to join. The pipers, who
were also to be neutral in the strife, took their places by
their respective brattachs.
The multitude received both bands with the same general shout, with which on similar occasions they welcome those from whose exertions they expect amusement,
or what they term sport.  The destined combatants returned no answer to this greeting, but each party advanced to the opposite extremities of the list, where were entrances by which they were to be admitted to the interior.
A strong body of men-at-arms guarded either access; and
the Earl Marshal at the one, and the Lord H-igh Constable at the other, carefully examined each individual, to
see whether he had the appropriate arms, being steel-cap,
mail-shirt, two-handed sword, and dagger. They also examined the numbers of each party; and great was the
alarm among the multitude, when the Earl of Errol held
up his hand and cried,a-" Ho!-The combat cannot
proceed, for the Clan Chattan lack one of their number."
"' What reck of that?" said the young Earl of Crawford; "' they should have counted better ere they left
[home."'
The Earl Marshal, however, agreed with the Constable,
that the fight could not proceed until the inequality should
be removed; and a general apprehension was excited
20 VOL. II.




230           ST. VALENTINE SS DIY.
in the assembled multitude, that after all the preparation
there would be rio battle.
Of all present, there were only two perhaps who rejoiced at tile prospect of the combat being adjourned;
and these were, the Captain of the Clan Quhele, and
the tender-hearted King Robert.  Meanwhile the two
Chiefs, each attended by a special friend and adviser,
met in the midst of the lists, having to assist them in determining what was to be done, the Earl Mal-shal, the
Lord High Constable, the Earl of Crawford, and Sir
Patrick Charteris.  The Chief of the Clan Chattan declared himself willing and desirous of fighting upon the
spot, without regard to the disparity of numbers.
s' That," said Torquil of the Oak, " Clan Quhele will
never consent to. You can never win honour from us with
the sword, and you seek but a subterfuge, that you may
say when you are defeated, as you know you will be, that
it was for want of the number of your band fully counted
out.  But I make a proposal-Ferquhard Day was the
youngest of your band, Eachin AMacIan is the youngest of
ours-we will set him aside in place of the man who has
fled from the combat."'" A most unjust and unequal proposal," exclaimed
Toshach Beg, the second, as he might be termed, of' MacGillie Chattanach.  "The life of the Chief is to the clan
the breath of our nostrils, nor will we ever consent that
our Chief shall be exposed to dangers which the Captain
of Clan Qullele does not share."
Torquil saw with deep anxi ty that his plan was about
to fail, when the objection was made to Hector's being
withdrawn from the battle; and he was meditating how to
support his proposal, when Eachin himself interfered.
His timidity, it must be observed, was not of that sordid
and selfish nature which induces those who are infected
by it calmly to submit to dishonour rather than risk
danger.  On the contrary, he was morally brave, thoutgh
constitutionally timid, and the shame of avoiding the coribat became at the moment more powerful than the fear
of facing it.




ST. VALENTINE~ S DAY.             231
6 I Wili not hear," he said, "' of a scheme which will
eave my sword sheathed during this day's glorious combat.  If I am young in arms, there are enough of brave
men around me, whom I may imitate if I cannot equal."
He spoke these words in a spirit which imposed on
Torquil, and perhaps on the young Chief himself.
"Now, God bless his noble heart!" said the fosterfather to himself.  "I was sure the foul spell would be
broken through, and that the tardy spirit which beseiged
him would fly at the sound of the pipe, and the first flutter
of the Brattach!"
" Hear me, Lord Marshal," said the Constable. " The
hour of combat may not be much longer postponed, for
the day approaches to high noon.  Let the Chief of Clan
Chattan take the half hour which remains, to find, if he
can, a substitute for this deserter; if he cannot, let them
fight as they stand."
" Content I am," said the Marshal, " though, as none
of his own clan are nearer than fifty miles, I see not how
MIacGillie Chattanach is to find an auxiliary."
" That is his business," said the High Constable; "but
if he offers a high reward, there are enough of stout yeomen surrounding the lists, who will be glad enough to
stretch their limbs in such a game as is expected. I myself, did my quality and charge permit, would blithely take
a turn of work amongst these wild fellows, and think it
fame won."
They communicated their decision to the Highlanders,
and the Chief of the Clan Chattan replied,-" You have
jlodged impartially and nobly, my lords, and I deem myself obliged to follow your direction.-So make proclamation, heralds, that if any one will take his share with
Clan Chattan of the honours and chances of this day, he
shall have present payment of a gold crown, and liberty
to fight to the death in my ranks."; You -are something chary of your treasure, Chief,"
said the Earl Marshal;' a gold crown is poor payment
for such a campaign as is before you."




!232           ST. VALENTINE iS DAY.' If there be any man willing to fight for honour,"
replied MacGillie Chattanach, "6 the price will be enough;
and I want not the service of a fellow who draws his
sword for gold alone."
The heralds had made their progress, moving half way
round the lists, stopping from time to time, to make proclamation as they had been directed, without the least apparent disposition on the part of any one to accept of the
proffered enlistment. Some sneered at the poverty of the
i-ighlanders, who set so mean a price upon such a desperate service.  Others affected resentment, that they
should esteem  the blood of citizens so lightly.  None
showed the slightest intention to undertake the task proplosed, until the sound of the proclamation reached Henry
of the Wynd, as he stood without the barrier, speaking
from time to time with Bailie Craigdallie, or rather listening vaguely to what the magistrate was saying to him.
" Ha! what proclaim they?" he cried out.
"' A liberal offer on the part of MacGillie Chattanach,"
said the Host of the Griffin, " who proposes a gold crown
to any one who will turn wild cat for the day, and be killed a little in his service  That's all."
A" How!" exclaimed the Smith, eagerly, " do they make
proclamation for a man to fight against the Clan Quhele?9'
" Ay, marry do they,' said Griffin;'   but I think they
will find no such fools in Perth."
He had hardly said the word, when he beheld the Smith,
clear the barriers at a single bound, and alight in the lists,
saying, " Here am 1, Sir herald, Henry of the Wynd,
willing to do battle on the part of the Clan Chattan."
A cry of admiration ran through the multitude, while
the grave burghers, not being able to conceive the slightest reason for Henry's behaviour, concluded that his head
must be absolutely turned with the love of fighting.  The
Provost was especially shocked.
" Thou art mad," he said, "' Henry! Thou hast neitller two-handed sword nor shirt of mail."'" Truly, no," said Henry, " for I parted with a mailhllirt, which I had made for myself, to yonder gay Chief




ST. vALENT1'INE S DAY.            233
of thle Clan Quhele, who will soon find on his shoulders
with what sort of blows I clink  nmy rivets! As for twohanded sword, why this boy's brland will serve my turn
till I can master a heavier one.'"' This lmust not be,"  said Errol.       F Harl' thee,
tarmourer, by Saint M'lary, thou shalt have mny Mlilan hauberk and good Spanish sword."
" I thank your noble Earlship, Sir Gilbert Hay; but
lie yoke with which your brave ancestor turned the battle
at Loncarty, would serve my turn well enough.   [ am
little used to sword or harness that I have not wrought
myself, because I do not well know what blows the one
will bear without being cracked, or the other lay on without snapping."
The cry had in the meanwhile run through the multitude, and passed into the town, that the dauntless Smith
was about to fight without armour, when, just as the fated
hour was approaching, the slhrill voice of a female was
heard screaming for passage through the crowd.  The
multitude gave place to her importunity, and she advanced,
breathless with haste, under the burden of a mail hauberk
and a large two-handed sword.  The widow of Oliver
Proudfute was soon recognized, and the arms which she
bore were those of the Smith himself, which, occupied by
her husband on tlle fatal evening when he was murdered,
had been naturally conveyed to his house with the dead
body, and were now, by the exertions of his grateful widow, brought to the lists at a moment when such proved
weapons wsere of the last consequence to their owner.
JHenry joyfuilly received the well-known arms, and the
widow with trembling haste assisted in putting them on, and
then took leave of him, saying, " God for the champion
of the vwidow and orphan, and ill luck to all who come
befrore him!"
Confident at feeling himself in his well-proved arluour,
J-Ienry shook hirnself as if to settle the steel shirt around
lhitn, and, unsheatling the two-handed swvord, lnade it
flourish over his head, cutting the air througll which it
whistled in the form of the figure eight, with an ease and
20'* voL. If.




234           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
sleight of hand, that proved how powerfully and skilfully
he could wield the ponderous weapon.  The champions
were now ordered to rriarch in their turns around the lists,
crossing so as to avoid meeting each other, and making
obeisance as they passed the Golden Arbour where the
IKing was seated.
While this course was performing, most of the spectators were again curiously comparing the stature, linmbs,
and sinews of' the two parties, and endeavouiing to fo im
a conjecture as to the probable issue of the combat. The
feud of a hundred years, with all its acts of' aoggrcssiol.
and retaliation, wvas concentrated in the bosonl of' acch
combatant.  Their countenances seemed fiercely writhlen
into the wildest expression of pride, hate, and a desperate
purpose of fighting to the very last.
Tile spectators murmured a joyful applause, in highwrought expectation of the bloody game.  Wagers were
offered and accepted both on the general issue of' the conflict, aild on the feats of particular champions. The clear,
frank, and elated look of Henry Smith, rendered hirn a
general favourite among the spectators, and odds, to use
the modern expression, were taken, that he would kill
three of his opponents before he himself fell.  Scarcely
was the Smith equipped for the combat, when the commanads of the Chiefs ordered the champions into their plm1ces; and at the same moment Henry heard the voice ot
Simon Glover issuing fiom the crowd, who were now silent with expectation, and calling on him, " Harry Smith,
Harry Smith, what madness liath possessed thee?"
" Ay, hie wishes to save his hopeful son-in-law, that is,
or is to be, from thie Smith's handling," was H-enry's first
thought-his second, was to turn and speak with himnand his third, that he could on no pretext desert the band
which he had joined, or even seem desirous to delay the
fight, consistently with honour.
He turned himself, therefore, to the business of the
hlour.   Both parties were disposed by the respective
Chiefs in three lines, each containing ten men.  They
were arranged with such intervals between each individ



ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              235
ual, as offered him scope to wield his sword, the blade of
which was five feet long, not including the handle.  The
second and third lines were to come up as reserves, in
case the first experienced disaster.  On the i:;,t of the
array of Clan Quhele, the Chief, Eachin 3Maclan, placed
himself in the second line betwixt two of his foster-brothors.  Four of them occupied the right of the first line,
whilst the father and two others protected the rear of the
beloved chieftain.  Torquil, in particular, kept close behind, for the purpose of covering him.  Thus Eachin
stood in the centre of nine of the strongest men of his
band, having four especial defenders in front, one on each
hand, and three in his rear.
Tilhe line of the Clan Chattan was arranged in precisely
the same order, only that the Chief occupied the centre
of the middle rank, instead of being on the extreme righto
This induced Henry Smith, who saw in the opposing
bands only one enemy, and that was the unhappy Eachin,
to propose placing himself on the left of the front rank of
the Clan Chattan. But the leader disapproved of this
arrangement; and having reminded Henry that he owed
him. obedience, as having taken wages at his hand, he
commanded him to occupy the space in the third line,
immediately behind himself,-a post of honour, certainly,
which Henry could not decline, though he accepted of it
with reluctance.
When the clans were thus drawn up opposed to each
other, they intimated their feudal animosity, and their
eagerness to engage, by a wild scream, which, uttered by
the Clan Quhele, was answered and echoed back by the
Clan Chattan, the whole at the same time shaking their
swords, and menacing each other, as if they meant to
conquer the imagination of their opponents ere they mingled in the actual strife.
At this trying moment, Torquil, who had never feared
for himself, was agitated with alarm on the part of his
Dault, yet consoled by observing that he kept a determined posture; and that the few words which he spoke
to his clan were delivered boldly, and well calculated to




221          8'p ST. YALIENTINEg S DAY.
animate them  to combat, as expressing his resolution to
partake their fate in death or victory.  But there was no
time for further observation.  The trumpets of the King
sounded a charge, the bagpipes blew up their screarning
and maddening notes, and the combatants, starting forward
in regular order, and increasing their pace till they came
to a smart run, met together in the centre of the ground,
as a furious land torrent encounters an advancing tide.
For an instant or two the front lines, hewing at each
other with their long swords, seemed engaged in a succession of single combats; but the second and third ranks
soon came up on either side, actuated alike by the eagerness of hatred and the thirst of honour, pressed through
the intervals, and rendered the scene a tumultuous chaos,
over which the huge swords rose and sunk, some still
glittering, otlers streaming  with blood, appearing, from the
wild rapidity with which they wvre swayed, rather to be
put in motion by some complicated machinery, than to be
wielded by human hands.  Some of the combatants, too
much crowded together to use those long weapons, had
already betaken themselves to their poniards, and endeayoured to get within the sword-sweep of those opposed
to them.  In the meantime, blood flowed fast, and the
groans of those who fell began to mingle with the cries of
those who fought; for, according to the manner of the
Highlanders at all times, they could hardly be said to shout,
but to yell.  Those of the spectators, whose eyes were
best accustomed to such scenes of blood and confiusion,
could nevertheless discover no advantage yet acquired by
either party.   The conflict swayed, indeed, at different
intervals forwards or backwards, but it was only in mo.
mentary superiority,  which the party who acquired it almost instantly lost by a corresponding exertion on the
Dthler side.  The wild notes of the pipers were still heard
above the tumult, and stimulated to farther exertions tiOe
fury of the combatants.
At once, however, and as if by mutual agreement, the
instruments sounded a retreat; it was expressed in wailing notes, which seemed to imply a dirge for the fallen.




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.               237
The two parties disengaged themselves from each other,
to take breath for a few minutes.  The eyes of the spectators greedily surveyed the shattered array of the combatants as they drew off from  the contest, but found it
still impossible to decide vlhich had sustained the greater
loss.  It seemed as if the Clan Chattan had lost rather
fewer men than their antagonists; but in compensation,
the bloody plaids and shirts of their party (for several
on both sides had thrown their mantles away) showed
more wounded men than the Clan Quhele. About twenty
of both sides lay on the field dead or dying; and arms
and legs lopped off, heads cleft to the chin, slashes deep
through the shoulder into the breast, showed at once the
fury of the combat, the ghastly character of the weapons
used, and the fatal strength of the arms which wielded
them.  The Chief of the Clan Chattan had behaved
himself with the most determined courage, and was slightly wounded.  Eachin also had fought with spirit, surrounded by his body-guard.  His sword was bloody; his
bearing bold and warlike; and he smiled when old Torqui, folding him in his arms, loaded him with praises and
with blessings.
The two Chiefs, after allowing their followers to breathe
for the space of about ten minutes, again drew up in their
files, diminished by nearly one-third of their original
number.  They now chose their ground nearer to the
riverl than that on whlich they had formerly encountered,
which was encumbered with the wounded and the slain.
Some of the former were observed, friom time to time, to
raise themselves to gain a glimpse of the field, and sink
back, most of them  to die from  the effusion of blood
which poured from the terrific gashes inflicted by the claymnore.
Harry Smith was easily distinguished by his Lowland
habit, as well as his remaining on the spot where they had
first encountered, where he stood, leaning on his sword
beside a corpse, whose bonnetted head, carried to ten
yards distance from the body by the force of the blow
which lhad swept it off exhibited the oak-leaf, the appro



238           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
priate ornament of the body-guard of Eachin Maclan.
Since he slew this man, Henry had not struck a blow, bu;
had contented himself with warding off lmany that were
dealt at himself, and some which were aimed at the Chief.
MTacGillie Chattanach became alarmed, wlhen, having
given the signal that his men should again draw together,
he observed that his powerful recruit remained at a distance from the ranks, and showed little disposition to join
them.
"C What ails thee, man?" said the Chief.  " Can so
strong a body have a mean and cowardly spirit? Come,
and make in to the combat."
" You as good as called me hireling but now," replied
Henry —"* If I am such," pointing to the headless corpse,
"6 I have done enough for my day's wage."
<" He that serves me without counting his hours," replied the Chief, " I reward him without reckoning wages."
"' Then," said the Smith, " I fight as a volunteer, and
In the post which best likes me."
" All that is at your own discretion," replied MacGillie Chattanach, who saw the prudence of humnouring
anl auxiliary of such promise.
" It is enough," said Henry; and shouldering his
heavy weapon, lie joined the rest of the combatants with
alacrity, and placed himself opposite to the Chief of the
Clan Quhele.
It was then, for the first time, that Eachin showed
some uncertainty.  He had long looked up to Henry as
the best combatant which Perth and its neighbourhood
could bring into the lists.  His hatred to him as a rival
was mingled with recollection of the ease with which he
had once, though unarmed, foiled his own sudden and
desperate attack; and when he beheld himn with his eyes
fixed in his direction, the dripping sword in his hand, and
obviously meditating an attack on him individually, his
courage fell, and lie gave symptoms of wavering, which
did not escape his foster-father.
It was lucky for Eachin, that Torquil was incapable,
fiom the formation of his own temper, and that of those




ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.               239
with whom lhe had lived, to conceive the idea of one ol
his own tribe, much less of his Chief and foster-son, being deficient in animal courage.  Could he have imagined this, his grief and rage might have driven him to the
fierce extremity of taking Eachin's life, to save him fi-om
staining his lhonour.  But his mind rejected the idea that
his Dault was a personal coward, as something which was
monstrous and unnatural.  That he was under the influence of enchantlent, was a solution which superstition
had suggested, and hle now anxiously, but in a whisper,
demanded of Hector, " Does the spell now darken thy
spirit, Eachin?"' Yes, wretch that I an," answered the unhappy youth;
" and yonder stands the fell enchanter!"
"; What i" exclaimed Torquil, "' and you wear harness
of his making?-Norman, miserable boy, why brought
you that accursed mail?"
" If my arrow has flown astray, I can but shoot my
life after it," answered Norman-nan-Ord.  " stand firm,
you shall see me break the spell."
"' Yes, stand firm," said Torquil.' He may be a fell
enchanter; but my own ear has heard, and my ovwn
tongue has told, that Eachin shall leave the battle whole,
firee, and unwounded-let us see the Saxon wizard who
can gainsay that.  He may be a strong man, but the fair
forest of the oak shall fall, stock and bough, ere lhe lay
a finger on my Dault.  Ring around him, my sons,-B.as
air son, Eachin!"
The sons of Torquil shouted back the words, which
signify " Death for Hector.'
Encouraged by their devotion, Eachin renewed his
spirit, and called boldly to the minstrels of his clan,
" Seid suas," that is, Strike up.
The wild pibroch again sounded the onset; but the two
parties approached each other more slowly than at first,
as men who knew  and respected each other's valour.
LHenry Wynd, in his iimpatience to begin the contest, advanced before the Clan Chattan, and signed to Eachin to
come on.  Norman, however, sprang forward to cover




240           ST. YAILENTINE'S DAY.
his foster-brother, and there was a general, though moo
mentarv pause, as if both parties were willing to obtain
an omen of the fate of the day, fiom the event of this
duel.  The Hiighlander advanced, with his large sword
uplifted, as in act to strike; but just as he came within
sword's length, he dropt the long and cumbrous weapon,
leapt lightly over the Smith's sword, as he fetched a cut
at him, drew his dagger, and being thus within Henry's
guard, struck him with the weapon (his own gift) on the
side of the throat, directing the blow downwards into the
chest, and calling aloud, at the same time, " You taught
me the stab!"
But Henry Wynd wore his own good hauberk, doubly
defended with a lining of tempered steel.  Had he been
less surely armed, his combats had been ended for ever.
Even as it was, he was slightly wounded.
F" ool!" he replied, striking Norman a blow with the
pommel of his long sword, which made him stagger backwards,' you were taught the thrust, but not the parry;"
and fetching a blow at his antagonist, which cleft his
skull through the steel cap, he strode over the lifeless
body to engage the young Chief who now  stood open
before him.
But the sonorous voice of Torquil thundered out,' Far eil air son Eachin!" (Another for Hector!) and
the two brethren who flanked their Chief on each side,
thrust forward upon Henry, and, striking both at once,
compelled himin to keep the defensive.
" Forward, race of the Tiger Cat!" cried MlacGillie
Chattanach; " save the brave Saxon! let these kites feel
your talons!"
Already much wounded, the Chief dragged himsell
sp to the Smith's assistance, and cut down one of the
Leichtach, by whom lie was assailed.  Henry's own good
swvord rid him of the other.
R6 eist air son Eachtin!" (Again for Hector,) shollted the faithful foster-father.' Baes air son Eachin.', (Death for Hector,) answered two more of his devoted sons, and opposed themselves




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              241
to the fury of the Smith and those who had come to his
aid; while Eachin, moving towards the left wing of thle
battle, sought less formidable adversaries, and again, by
some show of valour, revived the sinking hopes of his
followers.  The two children of the Oak, who had covered this movement, shared the fate of their brethren; for
the cry of the Clan Chattan Chief had drawn to that part
of the field some of his bravest warriors.  The sons of
Torquil did not fall unavenged, but left dreadfil marks
of their swords on the persons of the dead and living.
But the necessity of keeping their most distinguished
soldiers around the person of their Chief told to disadvantage on the general event of the combat; and so few
were now the number who remained fighting, that it was
easy to see that the Clan Chattan had fifteen of their
number left, though most of them wounded; and that of
the Clan Quhele, only about ten remained, of whom there
were four of the Chief's body-guard, including Torquil
himself.
They fought and struggled on, however, and as their
strength decayed, their fury seemed to increase.  Henry
Wynd, now wounded in many places, was still bent on
breaking through, or exterminating, the band of bold
hearts who continued to fight around the object of his
animosity.  But still the father's shout of, " Another
for IH-ector!" was cheerfully answered by the fatal countersign, "1 Death for Hector!', and though the Clan
Quhele were now outnumbered, the combat seemed still
dlubious. It was bodily lassitude alone that again compelled them to another pause.
The Clan Chattan were then observed to be twelve in
number, but two or three were scarce able to stand without leaning on their swords. Five were left of the Clan
Quhele; Torquil and his youngest son were of the numPer, both slightly wounded.  Eachin alone had, from the
v oilalnce used to intercept all blows levelled against his
lcrson, escaped without injury.  The rage of both parties had sunk, through exhaustion, into sullen desperation.
t 1VOL. 1T.




242            ST. VALENTINF IS DAY.
They walked sta ggering, as if in their sleep, through the
carcasses of the slain, and gazed on them, as if again to
animate their hatred towards their surviving enemlies, by
viewing the friends they had lost.
Tile multitude soon after beheld the survivors of thle
desperate conflict drawing together to renew the exterminating feud on the banks of the river, as the spot least
slippery with blood, and less encumbered with the bodies
of the slain.
66 For God's sake-for the sake of the mercy which we
daily pray for," said the kind-hearted old King, to the
Duke of Albany, "; let this be ended! Wherefore should
these wretched rags and remnants of humanity be suffered to complete their butchery?-Surely they will now
be ruled, and accept of peace on moderate terms?"'6 Compose yourself, my liege,"  said his brother.
"6 These men are the pest of tie Lowlands.  Both Chiefs
are still living-if they go back unharmed, the whole
day's work is cast away. Remember your promise to
the council, that you would not cry hold."
" You compel me to a great crime, Albany, both as a
King, who should protect his subjects, and as a Christian man, who respects the brother of his faith."
66 You judge wrong, my lord," said the Duke; "G these
are not loving subjects, but disobedient rebels; as my
Lord of Crawford can bear witness; and they are still
less Christian men, for the Prior of the Dominicans will
vouch for me, that they are more than half heathen."
The King sighed deeply.  1" You must work your
)pleasure, and are too wise for me to contend with.  I:can but turn away, and shut my eyes from the sights and
sounds of a carnage which makes me sicken.  But well
t know that God will punish me even for witnessilng  this
waste of human life."
" Sound, trumpets," said Albany; 66' their wounds will
aiten if they dally longer.9
7/.T-lhle this was passing,  Torquil was embracing and'io l.n' I   "ino') XisO yolt" Chief.




ST. VALENTINE'  S V PlY.          243
" Resist the witchcraft but a few minutes longer! Be
of good cheer-you will come off without either scar or
scratch, wem or wound.  Be of good cheer!"
" How can I be of good cheer," said Eachinl,'" lwh1ile
my brave kinsmen have one by one died at mny feet? —
died all for me, who could never deserve the least ol
their kindness!"
" Alnd for what wvere they born, save to die for their
Chief?" said Torquil, composedly.  66 Why lament that
the arrow returns not to the quiver, providing it hit the
mark? Cheer up yet-Here are Tormot and I but little
hurt, while the wild-cats drag themselves through the plain
as if they were half throttled by the terriers-Yet ocne
brave stand, and the day shall be your own, though it may
well be that you alone remain alive.- Minstrels, sound
the gathering!9'
The pipers on both sides blewv their charge, and the
combatants again mingled in battle, not indeed with thle
same strength, but with unabated inveteracy. They were
joined by those whose duty it was to have remained neuter, but who now found themselves unable to do so.  The
two old champions w.ho bore the standards, had grad.ually advanced firom the extremity of the lists, and now
approached  close to the immediate scene of action.'When they beheld the carnage more nearly, they were
mutually impelled by the desire to revenge their brcthren,
or not to survive them.  Tlhey attacled each other fiuriously with the lances to which the standards were attaclhed, closed after exchanging several deadly thrusts, then
grappled in close strife, still holding their banners, until at
length, in the eagerness of their conflict, they fell together
into the Tay, and were found drowned after the combat,
closely locked in each other's arms.  The fury of battle,
the frenzy of rage and despair, infected next the minstrels.
The two pipers, who, during the conflict, had done tlteir
utmost to keep up the spirits of their brethren, now saw
lhe dispute well nigh terminated for want of men to support it.  They threw down their instrum-ents, rushed despeiately upon each other with theiir dagers, a:nd eaca;




24-4[            ST. VALENJTINE'S DAY.
being more intent on  despatching his opponent than in
defeniding himself, the piper of Clan Quhele was almost
instantly slain, and he of Clan Chattan mortally wounded'Thle last, nevertheless, again grasped his instrument, and
the pibroch of the clan yet poured its expiring notes over
the Clan Chattan, while the dying minstrel had breath to
inspire it.  The instrument which he used, or at least
that part of it called the chuanter, is preserved in the family
of a Higllland Chief to this day, and is much  honoured
under the name of the JFederan;Dhu, or Black Chanter.)
IAean-while, in the final charge, young Tormot, devoted, like his brethren, by his father Torquil to the protection of his Chief, had been mortally wounded by the
unsparing sword of the Smith.  The other two remaining of the Clan Quhele had also fallen, and Torquil, with
his foster-son, and the wounded Tornot, forced to retreat
before eight or ten of the Clan Chattan, made a stand on
the bank of the river, while their enemies were making
such exertions as their wounds would permit to come up
with them.  Torquil had just reached the spot where he
had resolved to make the stand, when the youth Tormot
dropped and expired.  His death drew  from  his father
the first and only sigh which he had breathed throughout
tlhe eventful! day.'M iy son Tormot "99 he said, "1 my youngest and dearest! But if I save I1ector, I save all.-Now, my darling
Dault, I have done for thee all that man may, excepting
the last.  Let me undo thle clasps of that ill-omened armour, and do thou put on that of Tormot; it is light, and
\will fit thee well.  While you do so, I will rush on these
crippled men, and make what play with them  I can.
trust I shlall have but little to do, for they  are following
>i The present Clunie ittacPherson, Chief of his Clan, is in possession of
this ancient trophy of their presence at the North Inch. Another account of
it Is g-iven by a tradition, which says, that an aerial minstrel appeared over
tlhe heads of the Clan Chattan, and having played some wild strains, let the
instrumltent dcrop from his hand. Being macde of glass, it was broken by the
fall, excepting only the chanter, whici., as usual, was of lignum vitae. Thu
MlacPnerson piper secured this esnchanted pipe, and the possession of it is still
considered as ensuring the prosperity of the clan.




ST. VAWTENTINE S DIY.              245
each other like disabled steers.  At least, darling of my
soul, if I am unable to save thee, I can show thee how a
man should die."
While Torquil thus spoke, he unloosed the clasps of
the young Chief's hauberk, in the simple belief that he
could thus break the meshes which fear and necromancy
nad twined about his heart.
i6 Aly father, my father, my more than parent!" said
the unhappy Eachin-"' Stay with me!-with you by
my side, I feel I can fight to the last."
"' It is impossible," said Torquil.  "1 I will stop them
coming up, while you put on the hauberk.  God eternally bless thee, beloved of my soul!"
And then brandishing his sword, Torquil of the Oak
rushed forward with the same fatal war-cry, which had
so often sounded over that bloody field, Bas air son EacAin.t-The words rung three times in a voice of thunderl
and each time that he cried his war-shout, he struck down
one of the Clan Chattan, as he met them successively
straggling towards him. —' Brave battle, hawk-well
flown, falcon!" exclaimed the multitude, as they witnessed exertions which seemed, even at this last hour to
threaten a change of the fortunes of the day.  Suddenly
these cries were hushed into silence, and succeeded by a
clashing of swords so dreadful, as if the whole conflict
had recommenced in the persons of Henry Wynd and
Torquil of the Oak.  They cut, foiled, hewed and thrust,
as if they had drawn their blades for the first time that
day; and their inveteracy was mutual, for Torquil recognised the foul wizard, vwho, as he supposed, had cast a
spell over his child; and IIenry saw before him the gl-;i t,
who, during the whole conflict, had interrupted the  Lurpose for which alone he had joined the combatants —that
of engaging in single combat with Hector.  They fought
with an equality, which, perhaps, would not have existed,
lad not Henry, more wounded than his antagonist, been
somewhat deprived of his usual agility.
M eanwhile Eachin, finding himself alone, after a disorderly and vain attempt to put on his foster brother'.
219   voL. IT.




246            ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
harness, became animated by an emotion of shame and
despair, and hurried forward to support his foster-father
in the terrible struggle, ere some other of the Clan Chattan should come up.  When he was within five yards
and sternly determined to take his share in the death
fight, his foster-father fell, cleft from the collar-bone wellnigh to the heart, and murmuring with his last breath Bas
air son Eachi:l! —The unfortunate youth saw the fall of
his last friend, and at the same moment beheld the deadly enemy who had  hunted himn through the whole field,
standing within sword's point of him, and brandishing the
huge weapon which had hEewed its way to his life through
so many obstacles.  Perhaps this was enough to bring
his constitutional timidity to its highest point; or perhaps
he recollected at the same moment that he was without
defensive armour, and that a line of enemies, halting indeed and crippled, but eager for revenge and blood, were
closely approaching. It is enough to say, that his heart
sickened, his eyes darkened, his ears tingled, his brain
turned giddy-all other considerations were lost in the
apprehension of instant death; and drawing one ineffectual blow at the Smith, he avoided that which was aimed
at him in return, by bounding backward; and ere the former could recover his weapon, Eachin had plunged into the
stream of the Tay.  A roar of contumely pursued him as
he swam across the river, althllough,perhaps, not a dozen of
those who joined in it would have behaved otherwise in
tile like circumstances. Henry looked after the fugitive ill
silence and surprise, but could not speculate on the consequences of his flight, on account of the faintness which
seemed to overpower him as soon as the animation of
tile contest had subsided.  He sat down on the grassy
hank, and endeavoured to stanch such of his wounds as
were pouring fastest.
The victors had the general meed of gratulation. The
Duke of Albany and others, went down to survey tha
field; and Henry Wynd was honoured with particular
notice




ST. VYA.ENTTINE Is DA.             247
" If thou wilt follow rme, good fellow,' said the Black
Douglas, "   will change thy leathern apron obr a knight's
girdle, and tLy burgage tenenient for an hunidred-pound-.and to maintain thy rank withal."
t;I thank you humbly, my lord," said the Smith, dejectedly, " but I have shed blood enough already; and
Heaven has punished me, by foiling the only purpose for
which I entered thle combat."'" IHow, friend?" said Douglas,'" Didst thou not fight
for the Clan Chattan, and have they not gained a glorious
conquest?1)
6 _Ifoug'ht for my own, hand," said the Smith, indifferently; and the expression is still proverbial in Scotland.3
The good King Robert now came up on an ambling
palfrey, having entered the barriers for the purpose of
causing the wounded to be looked after.
6" My Lord of Douglas," he said,'" you vex the poor
man with temporal matters, when it seems he may have
short time to consider those that are spiritual.  Has lihe
no friends here who will bear him  where his bodily
wounds, and the health of his soul, may be both cared
for?"
" He hath as many friends as there are good men in
Perth," said Sir Patrick Charteris;' and I esteem myself one of the closest."
I A churl will savour of churl's kind,g' said the haughty Douglas, turning his horse aside; "the proffer of knighthlood from  the sword of Douglas had recalled him from
death's door, had there been a drop of gentle blood in
hiis body."
Disregarding the taunt of the mighty Earl, the Knight
of Kinfiauns dismounted to take Henry in his arms, as lihe
now sunk back from very faintness.  But he was prevented 1)by Siimon Glover, who, with other burgesses of consideration, had now entered the barrace.'" Henry, my beloved son Henry!" said the old man,
t' 0, what tempted you to this fatal affray! —Dyingypeechless?"




248           ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
"6 No-not speechless;" said Henry. "C Catharine" —H3e could utter no more.' Catharine is well, I trust; and shall be thine —that
is, if "
" If she be safe, thou would'st say, old man," said the
Douglas, who, though something affronted at Henry's rejection of his offer, was too magnanimous not to interest
himself in what was passing,-" She is safe, if Douglas's
banner can protect her-safe, and shall be rich.  Douglas can give wealth to those who value it more than honour."
1" For her safety, my lord, let the heartfelt thanks and
blessings of a father go with the noble Douglas.  For
wealth, we are rich enough-gold cannot restore my beloved son."'
s" A marvel!" said the Earl,-" a churl refuses nobility
— a citizen despises gold."
" Under your lordship's favour," said Sir Patrick, "' I
who am knight and noble, take license to say, that such
a brave man as Henry Wynd may reject honourable titles
-such an honest man as this reverend citizen may dispense with gold.'
66 You do well, Sir Patrick, to speak for your town
and I take no offence," said the Douglas.  1" I force my
bounty on no one. —But," he added, in a whisper to Albany, " your Grace must withdraw the King from this
bloody sight, for he must know that to-night which will
ring over broad Scotland when to-morrow dawns. This
feud is ended. Yet even I grieve that so niany brave
Scottish men lie here slain, whose brands might have decided a pitched field in their country's cause."
With difficulty King Robert was withdrawn from the
field; the tears running down his aged cheeks and white
beard, as he conjured all around him, nobles and priests,
that care should be taken for the bodies and souls of the
few wounded survivors, and honourable burial rendere d to
the slain. The priests who were present answered zealouisly for both services, and redeemed their pledge faith.'ully and piously.




ST. VALENTTINE S DAY.              249
Thus ended this celebrated conflict of the North Inch of
Perth. Of sixty-four brave men (the minstrels and standard-bearers included) who strode manfully to the fatal field,
seven alone survived, who were conveyed from thence in
litters, in a case little different from the dead and dying
around them, and mingled with them in the sad procession which conveyed them from the scene of their strife.
Eachin alone had left it void of wounds, and void of honour.
It remains but to say, that not a man of the Clan
Quhele survived the bloody combat, except the fiugitive
Chief; and the consequence of the defeat was the dissolution of their confederacy.  The clans of which it consisted are now only matter of conjecture to the antiquary,
for, after this eventful contest, they never assembled under the same banner.  The Clan Chattan, on the other
hland, continued to increase and flourish; and the best
families of the Northern Highlands boast their descent
from the race of the Cat-a-Mountain.32
CHAPTER  XVIII.
WHILE the King rode slowly back to the convent which
he then occupied, Aibany, with a discomposed aspect and
faltering voice, asked the Earl of Douglas, "' Will not
your lordship, who saw this most melancholy scene at
Falkland, communicate the tidings to my unhappy brother?''" Not for broad Scotland," said the Douglas, " I would
sooner bare my breast, within flight-shot, as a butt to an
hundred Tynedale bowmen. No, by St. Bride of Douglas! I could but say I saw the ill-fated youth dead. How
he came by his death, your Grace can perhaps better explain.  Were it not for the rebellion of March, and the
English war, I would speak my ownmindofit." So saying,
and making his obeisance to the King, the Earl rode ofl




250           ST. YALIENTINtE S DAY.
to his own lodgings, leaving Albany to tell his tale as he
best could.
CG The rebellion and the English war?"' said the Duke
to himself,-," Ay, and thine own interest, haughty Earl,
whieh, imperious as thou art, thou darest not se-arate
from mine.  Well, since thle task falls on me, I must and
will discharge it."
He followed the King into his apartment.  The King
looked at him  with surprise after he had assumed his
usual seat.
"' Thy countenance is ghastly, Robin," said the King,
" I would thou would'st think more deeply when blood
is to be spilled, since its consequences affect thee so pow-.
erfully.  And yet, Robin, I love thee the better that thy
kind nature will sometimes show itself, even through thy
reflecting policy."99
~ I would to Heaven, my royal brother-," said Albany,
with a voice half choked, "1 that the bloody field we have
seen were the worst we had to see or hear of this day.
I should waste little sorrow on the wild kerne who lie piled
on it like carrion.  But" —he paused.
G; How!" exclaimed the King, in terror,-"-  What new
evil?-Rothsay?-It must be-it is Rothsay!-Speak
out Y!What new folly has been done?-What fresh mischance?~'
64 My lord-my liege-folly and mischance are now
ended with my hapless nephew.'"
6i He is dead!-he is dead!" screamed the agonized
parent.  " Albany, as thy brother, I conjure thee-But
no-I am thy brother no longer! As thy King, dark and
subtle man, I charge thee to tell the worst!"
Albany faltered out,-"6 The details are but imperfectly known to mle-but tIle certainty is, that my unhappy
nephew was found dead in his apartment last night fi'om
sudden illness-as T have heard,"
"' O, Rothsay!-O, my beloved David!-Would to
God I had died for thee, my son —my son!"
So spoke, in the emphatic words of Scripture, the helpless and bereft father, tearing his grey beard and hoary




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.              251
hair, while Albany, speechless and conscience-struck, did
not venture to interrupt the tempest of his grief. But the
agony of the King's sorrow almost instantly changed to
fury,-a mood so contrary to the gentleness and timidity
of his nature, that the remorse of Albany was drowned in
his fear.
"And this is the end,9" said the King, " of thy moral saws
and  religious maxims! —-But the besotted father, who
gave the son into thy hands, who gave the innocent lamb
to the butcher, is a King i and thou shalt know it to thy
cost.  Shall the murderer stand in presence of his brother —stained with the blood of that brother's son? No!What ho, without there! —lacLouis!-Brandanes ITreachery!-Murder! —Take arms, if you love the
Stewart!"
MacLouis, with several of the guards, rushed into the
apartment.
"Murder and treason!" exclaimed the miserable King,;' Brandanes-your noble Prince"-here' his grief and
agitation interrupted for a moment the fatal information
it was his object to convey. At length he resumed his
broken speech,-" An axe and a block instantly into the
court-yard!-Arrest" —The word choked his utteranice.'~ Arrest whom, my noble liege?" said MacLouis, who,
observing the King influenced by a tide of passion so different from  the gentlenesss of his ordinary demeanour,
almost conjectured that his brain had been disturbed by
the unusual horrors of the combat he had witnessed,"6 Whom shall I arrest, my liege?" he replied.'" Here
is none but your Grace's royal brother of Albany?''C Most true," said the King, his brief fit of vindictive
passion soon soon dying away.  "  ost true-none but Albany-none but my parents' child-none but my brother.
0 God! enable me to quell the sinful passion which
glows in this bosorn-Sancta Maria, ora pro nobis!"
MacLouis cast a look of wonder towards the Duke of
Albany, who endeavoured to hide his confusion under an
affectation of deep sympathy, and muttered to the ofli
ca —r,



252           ST. YALENTINE'S DAY.
"' The great misfortune has been too much for his understanding."
"' What misfortune, please your Grace?" replied MacLouis.  " I have heard of none."
" How!-Not heard of the death of my nephew
Rothsay?"
"' The Duke of Rothsay dead, my Lord of Albany i"
exclaimed the faithful Brandane, with the utmost horror
and astonishment,-" When, how, and where?"
so Two days since-the manner as yet unknown —at
IFalkland."
MacLouis gazed at the Duke for an instant; then, with
a kindling eye and determined look, said to the King,
who seemed deeply engaged in his mental devotion," MAy liege! a minute or two since you left a word-one
word —unspoken. Let it pass your lips, and your pleasure
is law to your Brandanes!"'
"I was praying against temptation, MacLouis," said
the heart-broken King, 1" and you bring it to me. Would
you arm a madman with a drawn weapon? —But oh, Albany! my friend, my brother, my bosom counsellor!how-how camest thou by the heart to do this!"
Albany seeing that the King's mood was softening, replied with more firmness than before,-"- My castle has no
barrier against the power of death-I have not deserved
the foul suspicions which your Majesty's words imply.  I
pardon them, from the distraction of a bereaved father.
But I am willing to swear by cross and altar-by my
share in salvation-by the souls of our royal parents-"
6t Be silent, Robert!"' said the King; " add not perjury to murder.-And was this all done to gain a step
nearer to a crown and sceptre? Take them to thee at
once, man; and mayest thou feel, as I have done, that
they are both of red-hot iron!-Oh Rothsay, Rothsay ]
thou hast at least escaped being a king!"9'  My liege," said AMacLouis, "' let me remind you,
that the crown and sceptre of Scotland are, when your
Majesty ceases to bear them, the right of Prince James,
who succeeds to his brother's rights.'




ST. VALENTINE S DAY.             25.3
" True, MacLouis," said the King, eagerly, " and
will succeed, poor child, to his brother's perils! Thanks,
MacLouis, thanks-You have reminded me that I. have
still work upon earth. Get thy Brandanes under arms
with what speed thou canst.  Let no man go with us
whose truth is not known to thee. None in especial who
has trafficked with the Duke of Albany-that man, I
mean, who calls himself my brother!-and order my
litter to be instantly prepared.  We will to Dunbarton,
MacLouis, or to Bute.  Precipices, and tides, and my
Brandanes' hearts, shall defend the child till we can put
oceans betwixt him and his cruel uncle's ambition.Farewell, Robert of Albany-farewell for ever, thou
hard-hearted bloody man! Enjoy such share of power as
the Douglas may permit thee-But seek not to see my
face again, far less to approach my remaining child! for,
that hour thou dost, my guards shall have orders to stab
thee down with their partizans!-MacLouis, look it be
so directed."
The Duke of Albany left the presence without attempting further justification or reply.
What followed is matter of history.  In the ensuing
Parliament, the Duke of Albany prevailed on that body to
declare him innocent of the death of Rothsay, while, at
the same time, he showed his own sense of guilt by taking
out a remission or pardon for the offence. The unhappy
and aged monarch secluded himself in his Castle of Rothsay, in Bute, to mourn over the son he had lost, and watch
with feverish anxiety over the life of him who remained.
As the best step for the youthful James's security, he sent
him to France to receive his education at the court of the
reigning sovereign.  But the vessel in which the Prince
of Scotland sailed, was taken by an English cruiser, and
although there was a truce for the moment betwixt the
kingdoms, Henry IV. ungenerously detained him a prisoner. This last blow completely broke the heart of the
unhappy King Robert III. Vengeance followed, though
with a slow pace, the treachery and cruelty of his brother.
22  voL. Ii.




254            ST. VALENTINE S DAY.
Robert of Albany's own gray hairs went, indeed, in peace
to the grave, and he transferred the regency which he had
so foully acquired, to his son Murdoch.  But nineteen
years after the death of the old King, James I. returned
to Scotland, and Duke Murdoch of Albany; with his sons,
was brought to the scaffold, in expiation of his father's
guilt and his own.33
CHAPTER XIX.
The honest heart that's free frae a'
Intended fraud or guile,
However Fortune kick the ba',
Has aye some cause to smile.-BURas.
WE now return to the Fair Maid of Perth, who had
Uben sent firom the horrible scene at Falkland, by order of
the Douglas, to be placed under the protection of his
daughter, the now widowed Duchess of Rothlisay. That
lady's temporary residence was a religious house, called
Campsie, the ruins of which still occupy a striking situation on the Tay. It arose on the summit of a precipitous
rock, which descends on the princely river, there rendered
peculiarly remarkable by the cataract called Campsie Linn,
where its waters rush tumultuously over a range of basaltic
rock, which intercepts the current, like a dike erected by
human hands.  Delighted with a site so romantic, the
Monks of the Abbey of Cupar reared a structure there,
dedicated to an obscure Saint, named St. Hunnand, and
hither they were wont themselves to retire for pleasure or
devotion.  It had readily opened its gates to admit the
noble lady who was its present inmate, as the country wtas
under the influence of the powerful Lord Drummond, the
ally of the Douglas.  There the Earl's letters were presented to the Duchess by the leader of the escort which
conducted Catharine and the glee-maiden to Campsie.
Whatever reason she might have to complain of Rothsay,
his horrible and unexpected end greatly shocked the noble
lady, and she spent the greater part of the night in indulging her grief, and in devotional exercises.




ST. VALENT'INES DBAY                255
On the next morning, which was that of the memorable
Palm Sunday, she ordered Catharine Glover and the minstrel into her presence.  The spirits of both the young
women had been much sunk and shaken by the dreadful
scenes in which they had so lately been engaged; and the
outward appearance of the Duchless AIarjory was, like that
of her father, more calculated to inspire awe than confidence.   She spoke with kindness, however, though appatently in deep affliction, and learned from them all which
they had to tell concerning the fate or her erring and inconsiderate husband. She appeared grateful for the effolts
-which Catharine and the glee-maiden had made, at their
own extreme peril, to save Rothsay from his horrible fate.
She invited them to join in her devotions; and at the hour
of dinner gave them her hand to kiss, and dismissed them
to their own  refection, assuring both, and Catharine in
particular, of her efticient protection, which should include, she said, her father's, and be a wall around them
both, so long as she herself lived.
They retired from the presence of the widowed Princess, and partook of a repast with her duennas and ladies,
all of whom, amid their profound sorrow, showed a char:
acter of stateliness, whichil cchilled the light heart of the
French-wonmanll  and imposed restraint even on the more serious claracter of Catharine Glover. The friends, fbr so we
lay nowv term them, were fathin, therefore, to escape from
ithe society of these persons, all of them born gentlewomen, who thought themselves but ill-assorted with a burghci's daughter and a strolling glee-maiden, and saw them
with pleasure go out to wallk in the neighbourhood of the
convent.  A little garden, with its bushes and fruittrees,
advanced on one side of the convent, so as to skirlt dl.j
precipice, from which it was only separated by a parapet
built on the ledge of the rock, so low that the eye mighbt
easily measure the depth of the crag, and gaze on tihe
conflicting waters which foamed, struggled, and chafied
over the reef below.
The Fair Maiden of Pertl and her companion walked
slowly on a d!ath t!ht ran within this parapet, looked at




~56           STo VALENTINE S DAY.
the romantic prospect, and judged what it must be when
the advancing summer should clothe the grove with leaves.
They observed for some time a deep silence.  At length
the gay and bold spirit of the glee-maiden rose above the
circumstances in which she had been and was now placed.
6' Do the horrors of Falkland, fair May, still weigh
down your spirits?  Strive to forget them  as I do; we
cannot tread life's path lightly, if we shake not fiom our
mantles the rain-drops as they fall."
" These horrors are not to be forgotten," answered
Catharine.  6 Yet my mind is at present anxious respects
ing my father's safety; and I cannot but think how many
brave men may be at this instant leaving the world, even
within six miles of us, or little farther."
" You mean the combat betwixt sixty champions, of
which the Douglas's equerry told us yesterday? It were a
sight for a minstrel to witness. But out upon these womanish eyes of mine-they could never see swords cross
each other, without being dazzled.  But see —look yonder, May Catherine, look yonder! That flying messenger
certainly brings news of' the battle."
C" Methinks I should know him who runs so wildly,'
said Catharine —" But if it be he I think of, some wild
thoughts are urging his speed."
As she spoke, the runner directed his course to the
garden.  Louise's little dog ran to meet him, barking furiously, but came back, to cower, creep, and growl behind
its mistress; for even dumb animals can distinguish when
men are driven on by tile filrious energy of irresistible
passions and dread to cross or encounter them  in their
career.  The fugitive rushed into the garden at the same
reckless pace. His head was bare, his hair dishevelled;
his rich acton, and all his other vestments, looked as if
they had been lately drenched in water.  His leatliemdi
buskins were cut and torn, and his feet marked the sodl
with blood.  His countenance was wild, haggard, ar'
highly excited, or, as the Scottish phrase expressesJ iA
muchl raisedo




ST. VALEANTINE S DAY.             2 5''; Conachar!" said Catherine, as he advanced, apparently without seeing what was before him, as hares aro
said to do when severely pressed by the greyhounds
But he stopped short when he heard his own name.
"Conachar," said Catherine, "s or rather Eachin NIac.
Ian-what means all this?-Have the Clan Quhele sus
tained a defeat?"
" I have borne suchl names as this maiden gives me,'
said the fugitive, after a moment's recollection.'; Yes, I
was called Conachar when I was happy, and Eachin when
I was powerful.  But now I have no name, and there is
no such clan as thou speak'st of; and thou art a foolish
maid,to speak of that which is not, to one who has no
existence.
" Alas! unfortunate —---' And why unfortunate, I pray you?" exclaimed the
youth.  " If I am coward and villain, have not villany
and cowardice command over the elements?-Have I not
braved the water without its choking me, and trod the
firm earth without its opening to devour me? And shall a
mortal oppose my purpose?"
" He raves, alas!"9 said Catharine.  6 Haste to call
some help.  He will not harm me; but I fear lie will do
evil to himself.  See how he stares down on the roaring
waterfall!'9
The glee-woman hastened to do as she was ordered 
and Conachar's half-frenzied spirit seemed relieved by
her absence.'" Catharine," he said,'" now  she is gone,
I will say I know  thee-I know thy love of peace and
hatred of war.  But hearken-I have, rather than strike
a blow at my enemy, given up all that a man calls dearest
-I have lost honour, fame, and friends; and such friends!
(he placed his hands before his face,)-Oh! their love
surpassed the love of woman! Why should I hide iny
tears?-All know my shame-all should see my sorrow
Yes, all might see, but who would pity it? —-Catharine
as I ran like a madman down the strath, man and woman
called shame on me!-The beggar to whom I flung arl
2C2   VOIm. IT.




2ti)8       ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
alms that I might purchase one blessing, threw it back in
disgust, and with a curse upon the coward! Each bell
shat tolled rung out, Shame on the recreant caitiff! The
brutte beasts in their lowing and bleating-the wild winds
in their rustling and howling —the hoarse waters in their
dash and roar, cried, Out upon the dastard!-The faithful nine are still pursuinlg me; they cry with feeble voice,'Strike but one blow in our revenge, we all died for you!'"
While the unhappy youth thus raved, a rustling was
hleard in the bushes.'" There is but one way," he exclaimed, springing upon the parapet, but with a terrified
glance towards the thicket, through which one or two
attendants were stealing, with the purpose of surprising
him.  But the instant he saw a human form emerge'from
the cover of the bushes, he waved his hands wildly over
his head, and shrieking out "' Bas air Eachin!" plunged
down the precipice into the raging cataract beneath.
It is needless to say, that aught save thistle-down must
have been dashed to pieces in such a fall. But the river
was swelled, and the remains of the unhappy youth were
never seen. A varying tradition has assigned more than
one supplement to the history.  It is said by one account,
that the young Captain of Clan Quhele swam  safe to
shore, far below the Linns of Campsie, and that, wandering disconsolately in the deserts of Rannock, he met with
Father Clement, who had taken up his abode in the wilderness as a hermit, on the principle of the old Culdees
IHe converted, it is said, the heart-broken and penitent
Conachar, who lived with him in his cell, sharing his devotion and privations, till death removed them in succession.
Another wilder legend supposes that he was snatched
friom death by the Daione-Shie, or fairy-folk; and that
lie continues to wander through wood and wild, armed
like an ancient Highlander, but carrying his sword in his
left hand. The phantom appears always in deep grief.
Soimetimles he seems about to attack the traveller, but,
wThen resisted with courage, always flies.  These legends
R.le founded on two peculiar points in his story —his
ev;ncing timidity, and his committing suicide; both of




ST. VALENTINE'S DYit,             259
them circumstances almost unexampled in the history of
a MIFountain Chief.
When Simon Glover, having seen his friend Henry duly
taken care of in his own house in Curfew Street, arrived
that evening at the Place of Campsie, he found his daughter extremely ill of a fever, in consequence of the scenes
to which she had lately been a witness, and particularly
the catastrophe of her late playmate.  The affection of
the glee-rnaiden rendered her so attentive and careful a
nurse, that the Glover said it should not be his fault if she
ever touched lute again, save for her own amusement.
It was some time ere Simon ventured to tell his daughter of Henry's late exploits, and his severe wounds; and
he took care to make the most of the encouraging circumstance, that her faithful lover had refused both honour and
wealth, rather than become a professed soldier, and follow
the Douglas.  Catharine sighed deeply, and shook her
head at the history of bloody Palm Sunday on the North
Inch. But apparently she had reflected that men rarely
advance in civilization or refinement beyond the ideas of
their own age, and that a headlong and exuberant courage, like that of Henry Smith, was, in the iron days in
which they lived, preferable to the deficiency which had
led to Conachar's catastrophe.  If she had any doubts on
the subject, they were removed in due time by Henry's
protestations, so soon as restored health enabled him to
plead his own cause.
s I should blush to say, Catharine, that I am even sick
of the thoughts of doing battle.  Yonder last field showred carnage enough to glut a tiger.  I am therefore resolved to hang up my broadsword, never to be drawn more
unless against the enemies of Scotland."
" And should Scotland call for it," said Catharine,' 1i
will buckle it round you."
"s And, Catharine," said the joyful Glover, "I we will
pay largely for soul masses for those who have fallen by
genry's sword; and that will not only cure spiritual
flaws, but make us friends with the Church again."




260           ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
" For that purpose, father," said Catharine,'" the
hoards of the wretched Dwining may be applied. He
Bequeathed them to me, but I think you would not mix
his base blood-money with your honest gains!"
"I would bring the plague into my house as soon,"
said the resolute Glover.
The treasures of the wicked apothecary were distri
buted accordingly among the four monasteries; nor was
there ever after a breath of suspicion concerning the
orthodoxy of old Simon or his daughter.
Henry and Catharine were married within four months
after the battle of the North Inch, and never did the corporations of the glovers and hammermnen trip their sworddance so featly as at the wedding of the boldest burgess
and brightest maiden in Perth.  Ten months after, a
gallant infant filled the well-spread cradle, and was rock
ed by Louise, to the tune of
Bold and True
In bonnet blue.
The names of the boy's sponsors are recorded " as
Ane Hie and Micihty Lord, Archibald Erl of Douglas,
ane Honorabil and gude Knicht, Schir Patrick Charteris
of Kinfauns, and ane Gracious Princess, Marjory Dowaire
of his Serene Highness David umquhile Duke of Rothsay."  Under such patronage a family rises fast; and
several of the most respected houses in Scotland, but
especially in Perthshire, and many individuals, distinguished both in arts and arms, record with pride their
descent from the Gow Chrom and the Fair Maid of Perth




INOTES TO ST. VALE1NTIEE'S DAY.
Page 4. This celebrated Slogan or War Cry was often accompaniea
Dy a tirring strain of music, which was of much repute ill its day, but which
has long eluded the search of musical antiquaries.  It is described by the
local poet, Mr. Adamson, as a great inspirer of courage.' Courage to give, was mightily then blown
Saint Johnston's HIunt's up, since most famous known
By all musicians" —
BJluses' Threnoadie, 5thi Muse.
From the description which follows, one might suppose that it had also been
accompanied by a kind of war-dance.
" O! how they bend their backs and fingers tirle!
Moving their quiveriing heads, their brains do whirle
With divers moods; and as with uncouth rapture
Transported, so do shake their bodies' structure;
Their eyes do reele, heads, arms, and shoulders move;
Feet, legs, and hands, and all parts approve
That heavenlie harmonie; while as they threw
Their browes, 0 mighty strain! that's brave! they shew
Great fantasia:" —Ibid Id.
2. Page 7. Mr. Morrison says:-" The various designations by which
Henry or Hal of the Wylnd, the Gow Chrom or Bandy-legged Smith of St.
Johnston, was known, have left the field open to a great variety of competitors for the honour of being reckoned among his descendants. The want of
early registeis, and various other circumstances, prevent our venturing to
pronounce any verdict on the comparative strength of these claims, but we
shall state them all fairly and briefly.
" First, we have the Henry or Hendrie families, who can produce many
other instances besides their own, in which a Christian name has become that
of' a family or tribe, from the celebrity attached to it through the great deeds
of some one of their ancestors by whom it was borne. Then follow the Hals,
Halls, and Halleys, among whom even some of the ancient aid honiourable
race of the Italkets have ranged themselves. All these claims are, however,
esteemed very lightly by the Wynds, who to this day pride themselves on
their thewes and sinews, and consider that their ancestor being styled " Henrie Winde" by. the metrical historian of the town, is of itself proof sufficient
tlat their claimn is more solid than the name would altogether imply.
"It is rather singular that, in spite of all the ill-will which Henry seems to
have berne to the Celts, and the contemptuous terms in which lie so often
speaks of them in the text, the Gows should be found foremost among the
claimants, and that the strife should lie mainly between them and their Saxon
namesakes the Smiths, families whose number, opulence, and respectability,
will render it an extremely difficult matter to say which of them are in tilhe
direct line, even if it should be clearer than it is, that the children of the here
were known by their father's occupation, and not by his residence.




2262  NOTrEs'IO
" Itonly re0mains to notice the pretensions of the Chroms, Croomls, Crainbs,
or Crom)ies, a namne vwhich every school-boy will associate, if noi withi tile
athletic, at least with the gymnastic exercises for vwhich the   -ow Cirom and
the gramiminar school of Pe-rth were equally  celebratedc.   We needl scarcely
add, that while the Saxon name correspondling with the word Gow, has
broilugt a host of' competitors into the field, there has not y t start(cd any
claimant resting his pretensions on the quality expressed in the epithet Cri10o1i,17
i. e. bandy-legged."
3.  Page 2G.  Mr. Morrison says "The places where the public assemblies
of the citizens, or their magistrates, were held, were so seldom  changed in
former times, thait thllere seems every reason to conclude that the meetings of
the tovn-council of Perth were alwxays held in or near the place where thiey
still convene.  Tl'he room itself is evidently modern, but the adjoining building, wxhiichl seems to hlave bee  reared close to, if it did not actually form  a
part of the Chapel of the Virgin, bears many imarks of antiquity.  The room,
in which it is not improbable the council meetin-s were held about tile period
of our story, had been relieved of part of its gloomy aspect in the rei-n of
the third James, by the addition of one of those octagonal towers rwhich dlistillguishi the architecture of his favourite Cochran.  The upper part of it and
the spire are modern, but the lower structure is a good specimen of that
artist's taste.
The power of trying criminal cases of the most serious kind, and of inflicting the highest punishment of the law, was granted by Robert III. to the
magistrates of Pertll, and was frequently exercised by them, as the records
if tshe town abundantly prove."
4.  Page 28.  Considerable diversity of opinion exists respectinig the introduction of tlhe Morrice dance into Britain.  The name poillts it out as of
Mloorish origin; and so popular has this leaping kind of dancing for many
centuries been in this country, that when Handel was asked to point out tle
peculiar taste in dancing aiid music of the several nations of Europe-to the
Freinel he ascribed the minuet; to the Spaniard, the saraband;  to the Italian,
the arietta; to the English, the hornpipe, or RIorrice dance.
The local alltiquary whose kindness has already been more thai once
acknowledged. says" It adds not a little interest to such an enquiry, ill connexion with a story
in which the fortunes of a Perth glover form so prominent a part-to find that
the Glover Incorporation of Perith have preserved enitire amongr their relics,
the attire of one of' the Mlorrice dancers, who, otl some festive occasion, exhibited his paces' to the jocose recreatment' of one of the Scottish monarchs,
w hile on a visit to the lFair City.'" This curious vestment is nlade of fawn-coloured silk, in the form of a
tunic, with trappi.ngs of green and red satin.']here accomnpany it uroo h1un7
dlced and fifty-teo ssall circular bells, formed iito twently-one sets of twelve
bells each   upon pieces oft leather, made to fastenl to various pharts of the body.
\hlat is most remarkable about these bells, is the perfect intonation of each
set, anll the regular mlusical iltervals between the tone of' each.'lie twelve.
bells oil eachl piece of leatlher are of various sizes. yet all combinin to fitrm
oiie perfect intonation in concord wvith the leadin, note in the set. T'hese con,
cords are Inaintained not only in each set, but also in the intervals betwseen
the vcariots pieces.  Thlie performner could thus produce, if not a t 7e, at least
a plasing aud mimusical clhiiie, accordicin as ihe reg ulated with  skill the mo'emcnlits of' his biodl.'h1 is is Sullicient evidence that the Morrice dlantc   Was
not clsite so albsllrd alill unmeaing  aiIs miaht at first hbe sspposed: /.)it that a
lasttuhl performser coutld give pleasure by it to the. skilfll as uell as amusemlent to tie vulgar."
5.  Page 33.  " There is," says Mnr. Iitorrisonl, " n simplicity in the internal
architecture of thle hu.ildisi,.hirvic  beslpeaks a very ancieint origin. and raKen




ST. VALENTINE S  DAY.                           J6O
us suspect that the changes it has undergone have in a great measure been
confined to its exterior. Tradition ascribes its foundation to the Picts, and
there is no doubt that in the age imnmedliately subsequent to the termination
of that monarchy it was famed throughout all Scotland.  It is probable that
the western part of it was built about that period, and the eastern not long
afterwards, and in both divisions there is still to be seen a nty a unity d beaiy
of design, which is done little justice to by the broken, irregular, and paltr}y
manner in which the exterior has at various times been patched up.  WVhle
the three churches into which it is now cut down were in one, the ceilings high
and decorated, the aisles enriched by the offerings of tile devotees to tie various altars which were reared aroundi it, and the arches free from the galleries
which now deform all these Gothic buildings,  it must have formed a splendid
theatre for such a spectacle as that of the trial by bier-right."
6. Page 51. Sir David Lyndsaye, first Earl of Crawford, and brotherin-law to Robert III.
7. Page 59. The famous ancestor of the Lovats, slain at Halidon Hill.
8. Page 59. The beautiful mistress of David II.
9. Page 70. In a volume of miscellanies published in Edinburgh in 1825,
under the name of Janus, there is included a very curious paper illustrative
of the solemnity with which the Catholic Church in the dark ages superintended the appeal to heaven by the ordeal of fire; and as the ceremonial on occasions such as that in the text was probably much the same as what is there
described, an extract may interest the reader.
" CHURCtI-SERVICE FOR THE ORDEAL BY FIRE.
"We are all well aware that the ordeal by fire had. during many centuries,
the sanction of the church, and moreover, that, considering in what hands the
knowledge of those times lay, this blasphemnous horror could never have existed without the connivance, and even actual co-operation, of the priesthood.
"It is only a few years ago, however, that any actual form  of' ritual, set
apart by ecclesiastical authority for this atrocious ceremony of fiaud, has
been recovered. Mr. Biischitng, the well-known Germall antiquary, has the
merit of having discovered a most extraordinary document of this kind in the
course of examining the charter-chest of an ancient Thuringian monrastery -
and he has published it in a periodical work, entitled,' Die Vorzeit,' in 1817.
We shall translate the prayers, as given in that worl, as literally as possible.
To those who suspect no deceit, there can be no doubt this service must
have been as awfully impressive as ally that is to be found in the formnularies
of any church; but words are wanting to express the abject guilt of those
who, vell knowing tile base trickery of the whole matter, who, having themselves assisted ill preparing  all the appliances of legerdemain behind the
scenes of the sanctuary-stage, dared to clothe their iniquity int the most solemtn phraseology of religion.
" A fire was kindled within the church, not far from the great altar. The
person about to undergo the ordeal was placed ih front of the fire surrounded
by his lriends, by all who were in any way interested in the result of thile trial
antd by the whole clergy of the vicinity.  Upon a table near the fire, the coulter over which he was to walk, the bar he was to carry, or, if lie were a
knight, the steel-gloves,:which, after they ltad been made red-hot, he was to
put ont lhis halds, were placed in view of all.
a Part of the usual service of tile day beinig perfotrmed, a priest advances,
and places himself ill front of the fire, uttering, at the same momntit, the followiligf prayer, which is the first MIr. i}lischling gives:"' 0 Lord (od, bless this place, that herein there may be health, and holi.
uess, and purity and sanctification, and victory, and hiunmility, and meekness,




264                           NOTES TO
fulfilment of the law, and obedience to God the Father, the Son, and tile Hold
Ghost. May thy blessing, O God of purity and justice, be upon this place,
and upon all that be therein; for the sake of Christ, the Redeemer of thim
world.'
" A second priest low lifts the iron, and bears it towards the fire. A series
of prayers follows; all to be repeated ere the iron is laid on the fire.
" These are the Prayers to be said over the Fire ard the Iron.
" 1. Lord God, Almighty Father, Fountain of Light, hear us: —enlighten
us, O thou that dwellest in light unapproachable.  IBless this fire, O God; and
as from the midst of the fire thou didst of ol0d enlighten Moses, so froml this
flame enlighten acnd purify our hearts, that we may be worthy, through Christ
our Lord, to come unto thee, and unto the life eternal.
"'2.  Our Father which art in Heaven, &c.
"' 3.  O Lord, save thy servant. Lord God, send him help out of Zion,
thy holy hill. Save him, O Lord. Hear us, O Lord.  O Lord, be with us.
"4. O God, Holy and Almighty, hear us. By the majesty of thy most
holy name, and by tile coming of thy dear Son, and by the gift of the comfort
of thy holy Spirit, and by the justice of thine eternial seat. hear us, gfood
Lord. Purify this metal, and salnctify it, that all falsehood and deceit ol the
devil may lie cast out of' it, and utterly removed; and that the truth of' thy
righteous iudgment may be opened anid made manifest to all the fhithful that
cry ullto tee this day, through Jesus Christ, our Lord.'
"T''he iron is now placed in the fire, anid sprinkled with consecrated water,
both before and after it is so placed. Tlhe mass is said while tile iron is heating,-the introductory scripture being,-' O Lord, thou art just, aiid righteous
are all thy judgments.' The priest delivers the wafer to the person about to
be tried, an'd, ere he communicates, the following prayer is said by the priest
and congregation —
"'We  pray unto thee, 0 God, that it may please thee to absolve this thy
servant, and to clear him from his sins.  Purifty him, O heavenly Father, from
all the stains of' the flesh, and enable lhim, by thy all-covering and atoning
grace, to pass through this fire, —thy creature-triumph antly, being justified
in Christ our Lord.'
"Tl'hen the Gospel:-' Then there came one unto Jesus, who fell upon his
knees, and cried out, Good Master, what must I do that I may be saved?
Jesus said, Why callest thou me good?' &c.
" The chief piriest, from the altar, now addresses the accused, who is still
kneeling  near the fire —
"' By the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, and
by the Christianity whose name thou bearest, and by the baptism in which thou
wert born again, and by all the blessed relics of' the saints of God that are
preserved in this church, I con jure thee, Come niot unto this altar, nor eat of
this body of Chriist, if thou beest guilty in the thiings that are laid to thy charge; 
but if thou beest inlnocent thereinl, come, brother, and come freely.'
"The accused then comes forward and communicates,-the priest sayinlf,
T' his day may the body and blood of Jesus Christ, which were given anid
shed for thee, be thy protection and thy succour, yea even in the midst of
the flame.'
"The priest now reads this prayer:-' O Lord, it hIatll Ileased thee to accept our spiritual sacrifice.  Maty the joyful partaking ill this holy sacrament
be comfortable anld urseful to all that are here preselit, and serviceable to tIhe
removing of the bondage and thraiduom  of wvlatsoeiver sins do most easily
beset us. Grant also, that to this thy servant it may be of exceeding comfort,
gladdening his heart, until the truth of thy righteous judgment be revealed.'
" Tlle organ nlow peals, and KIyrie Eleeison and the Litany are suLng in
full Chorus.
" After this comes another prayer:
"' O God! thou that throuigh  fire hast shown forth so rnany signs of thy
almighity poseri thou that didst snateih Abraham, thy servant, out of thu




ST. VALENTINE S I)AY.                           265
orands and flames of the Chalddeans, wherein many were consumed! thou that
didst cause the bush to burn before the eyes of Moses, and yet not to be con
sumed! God, that didst send thy Holy Spirit in the likeness of tongues of
fiery flame, to the end that thy faithful servants might be visited and set apart
from tle unbelievinlg generationl; God, that didst safely conduct the three
children through the flilne of the Babylonians; God, that didst waste Sodom
with fire from hbeaven, and preserve Lot, thy servant, as a sign and a token
of thy mercy: 0 God, show forth yet onice again thy visible power, and the
majesty of thy unerring judgment: that truth may be made manifest, and
falsehood avenged, make thou this fire thy minister before us; powerless be
it where is the power of purity, but sorely burning, even to the flesh and the
sinews, the hand that hath done evil, antd that hath not feared to be lifted up
in false swearing.  O God  from whose eye nothing can be concealed, make
thou this fire thy voice to us thy servants, that it may reveal innocence, or
cover iniquity with shame. Judge of' all the earth [ hear us: hear us, good
Lord, for the sake of Jesus Christ thy Son.'
" The priest now dashes once more the holy water over the fire, saying,'Upon this fire be the blessing of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy
Ghost, that it may be a sign to us of the righteous judgment of God.'
" The priest pauses; instantly the accused approaches to the fire, and lifts
the iron, which lie carries niine yards from the flame.  Thie moment he lays it
down lie is surrounded by the priests, and borne by them  into the vestry;
there his hanids are wrapped in linen cloths, sealed down with the signet of' the
church: these are removed on the third day, when lie is declared innocent or
guilty, according to the coinlition in which his hands are found.' Si sinus
7-ubescens in v1estigiof)rrri r epeliutur, culpLabilis ducatur.  Sin autem mu2ndus
-epesriaefl, Laus Deo ireferaltur.'
"Such is certainly orie of' the most extraordinary records of the craft, the
audacity, and tile wseaklless of inanlkind."
The belief that the corpse of a murderedl person would bleed on the touch,
or at the approach of the murderer, was uliversal among tile northern nations.
We find it seriously urged in tile High Court of Justiciary at Edinburgh, so
late as 1688, as ali evid{ence of' guilt.  The case was that of' Philip Standsfield, accused of the murder of his father, and this part of the evidence against
him is thus stated in the " libel," or indictment.  " And when his father's dead
body was sighted and inspected by chirurgeons, and the clear and evident
sigllS of the mnit.rder had al)pearel, the body was sewed up, anid most carefully cleaned, and his nearest relations an(i friends were desired to lift his body
to tile colin; and accordingly,  Jamies Row, merchand, (who was inl Edilnburgh in the time ui dtie murder, ) hiving lifted tlre left side of Sir James his
head and sloulder. and the said'Philip the right side, his father's body, though
carefully cleaned, a. said is, so as the least blood was not on it, (lid (according to God's usual method of' discoverilg murders) blood afresh upon hilm,
aird defiled all his hands, which struck himn with such a terror, that lie iirnnediately let his fLther's head and body fall with violence, arid fled from the
body, and in conlsternation and confusion cried,' Lord have mercy upon rmae i
and bowed himself down over a seat in the church (where the corp were inspectedi), wiping his father's innocent blood off' his own murdering Irands
upon1 his CrialhS.."  To this his counsel replied, that " this is but a superstitious observation, without any ground either in law or reason; anid Carpzovius relates tlat several persons upon that ground had been unjustly cnallenged."  It was, hosvever, insisted onl as a link in tlre chain of'evidelnce, not
as a merely singular circumstance, but as a miraculous interposition of' Pr)ovidence;  and it was thus arimadverted upon, by Sir George Mackenzie, the
king's couisel, irn his charge to tie jury.  "' But they, frilly persuadedt that
Sir JaLmies wans mrurdered by his owNv  sIon, sent out some chlrurgeon s and
friends, who, havinig raised the body, did see it bleed miraculously upon hi3
touchinll it. In %wInch God Almighty himself vwas pleased to oear a share in
o3 VoL. II.




2661                          NOTES TO
the testimonies we produce; that Divine power, whicn makes the blood cir
culate during life, has oft times, in all nations, opened a passage to it aftel
death upon such occasions, but mlost in this case."
10. Page 71. " The Skinners' Yard," says IMr. Morrison,' is still ill tilhe
possesslion of that fraternity, anti is applied to the purpose whichl its namle
inplies.  Prior to tle time of thle peaceable Robert, it was the court-vard of
the castle.  Part of the gate wilich opened firom tile tow.n, to tile dIrawhridge
of thle castle, is still to be seen, as well its some0 traces of the foundation of tile
Keep or Donjon, adll of thie towers which surrounded thle Castle-yard.  Th'e
Curfi-w-row. which now enicloses the Skiinners'-yard, at that time Ibrined the
avenue or street leading from the nlorthieri pjart of the town to the Dominican
M olnastery."
11.  Page 77. " The Constable's, or Earl of Errol's lodgings,1" says Mr.
Morrison,  stood near the south end of tile'Watergate, the qluarter of, thle
towin in whlih(t most of the houses of the  otbility were placed, amidst gardens
which extend(led to the wall of the city adjoiiiiiig  the river. The tamuiilies of
thile Hlays haed many rich possessions in. the mn(ighl)bourhood, atid other residences in the town besides that commonily known as the Conistable's Lodginors.
Some of these subsequently passed, along  with a considerable portion of tlhe
Carse, to the Ruthvcen or Gowrie flmlily. The laist of' those noble residences
inm Perth which retained aniy part of' its former lma nlificelce, (and ont that account styled the Pxlalce,) was the celebrated Gow rie tHouse, which was niearly
emitire in 1805, but of which not a vestige now remails.  On tile confiscation
o)f the Gowrie estates, it merged into the public property of tile town; and,
in 1746, was presented by tile magistrates to the Duke of' Cumiberlanid.  His
Royal Hightiess, on receiving this mark of the attachmnent or servility of the
Pecrh rulers, asked, with sarcastic nonchalance,' If the piece of gzound called
the Carse of Gowrie wenlt alonlg  with it?'"
12. Pawe 93. An incident precisely similar to that in the text actually
occurred, within the present celtury, at Oxford, in the case of a young woman who underwent tile last senitence of the law for child-murder.  A letarned
professor of' that university has published an account of his conversation with
the girl aliter her recovery.
13. Page 97. These lines are still extant in the ruinous house of an Abbot,
and are said to be allusive to the holy tian having kept a mistress.
14. Page 104.  Mastere Henry of Wardlaw'lihat like til Vertue was to draw,
Chantour that timne of Glasgu,
Commnendit of alkyn Vertew,''he Papse had in aflectioubi,
Baith for his fame and his resoun.
*    *     S    it    *    ii
Sua by this resouin speciale
Of the threttinthi Benet Pape,
Tllis Master Ileniry was Bischape
Of Sanet Andrewis with honoure.
Of Canon he was then Douctour.
Wyntoun, B, ix. chap. 23.
15. Page 110.  Tine-egan, or Neidfyjre, i. e. forced fire.  All the fires itt
the house being extinguislhed, two men produced a flame of potenit virtue by
the friction of wood. This charm  was used, withini tile memory of' living
persons, in the Hebrides, int cases of' murrain among cattle.
16. Page 114.- i. e. The Great Cat. The County of Caithness is sup



ST. VALENTINE S DAY.                         O267
posed to have its name from Teutonic settlers of the race of the Catti, and
heraldry has not neglected so fair all occasion for that species of painted
punning ill which she used to delight.  T`ouch not the cat but a glove, is the
motto of Mackiitosh, alluding to his crest, which, as with most of the now
scattered septs of the old Clan, Chattan, is the Mountain Cat.
17. Page 114.'Their territory. commonly called, after the chief of the
Mackays, Lord Reay's country, has lately passed into the possession of the
noble family of Stafford-Sutherland.
18. Page 116. Balloch is Gaelic for the discharge of a lake into a river.
19. Page 123. The security no less than the beauty of the situations led
to the choice of these lake islanids for religious establishments.'Ihose in the
IHighlands were generally of a lowly character, and in many of them the Imonastic orders were tolerated, and the rites of the Rolnish Church observed,
long after the Reformation had swept both " the rooks and their nests" out of
the Lowlands. The Priory oil Loch'lay wNas founded by Alexander 1., and
the care of it committed to a smnall body of monks; but the last residents in
it were three nuns, who, when they did emerge into society, seemed determined to enjoy it in its most complicated and noisy state, for they came out
only once a year, and that to a mairket at Kenmore.  Iaence that Fair is still
called" Fiell na m'hau mnaomb," or Holy Woman's market.
20. Page 126. The installation, the marriage, and the funeral of a chieftain, wvere the three periods of his course observed with the highest ceremony
by all the clan. The latter was perhaps the most imposiiig o tlle three spectacles, from the solemiity of the occasion, aid the thrilling effect produced
by tile coroniach, sugl- by hundreds of voices, its rnelaiicholy notes unclulating
through the valleys, or reverberati' amollg the hills. All these observances
are fading away, anld the occasional attenipt at a gathering, for the funeral of
a chief, now resembles the dying note of the coronach, faintly echoed for tne
last time amoiig the rocks.
21. Page 133. i. e. Body-guard.
22. Page 143. Old XWomen.
25. Page 143. i. e. Boxed my ears.
214.  Page 166. Implying, that it was better to keep the forest than shut
themselves up in fortified places.
25. Page 194. Sir Alexander Ramsay tf Dalho~usie h.avi.g irritated Wil[iam Douglas, Lord of Galloway, by oltaitlirng the Sheriflship of Teviotdale,
which the hauglty baron considered dlue to Itilitelf, was surprised in lIawick
while exercisinii his office, and confied in lterlitage Castle sutil he died of
famille iln Jue, A.. 1342. Godscroft mentions the circumstance of tile grain
dropping from the cornloft. —P. 75.
26. Page 196. i. e. A small milk-pail.-One of the sweetest couplets in
The Gentle Shepherd is" To bear the milk-bowie no pain was to me,
When I at the buchting forgather'd wi' thee."
27. Page 206. RED-HAN. —Mr. Morrison says, "the case of a person
taken red-6ind, by the magistrates of Perth anll  immediately executed, was
tile main cause of the power of trying cases of' life and death being taken
from them and from  all subordinate judicatories. A youiig English officer
connected with some families of rank and influence, who was stationed with




268                           NOTES TO
a recruiting party at Perth, had become enamoured of a lady there, so young
as still to be under the tuition of a dancing-master. Ier admirer was in the
habit of following her into the school, to the great annoyance of the teacher,
who, on occasion of a ball given in his class-room ill the Kirkgate, stationed
himself at the door, determined to resist the entrance of the officer, on account
of the scandal to which his visits had given rise. The officer.came as a miatter of course, and a scuffle ensued, which at last bore so threatening an aspect, that the poor dancing-master fled through the passage, or close, as it is
called, by which there was access to the street. ~i'-e was pursued by the officer with his drawn sword, and was run through the body ere he could reach
the street, where the crowd usually assembled on such occasions might have
protected him.  The officer was instantly apprehended, and executed, it is
understood, even without any fqrmn of trial; at least there is no notice of it ill
ally of the records, where it would with most probability have been entered.
But the sword is still in the possession of a gentleman whose ancestors held
official situations in the town at the time, and the circumstances of the mutrder and of' the exectution have been handed down with great minuteness and
apparent truth of description from  father to son. It was immediately after
wards that the power of the civic magistrates in matters criminal was abridged,-it is thought chiefly through the influence of the friends of this young
officer."
28. Page 216. i. e. A man of the hammer.
29. Page 217. PLOUG-HMAN STAREs.-" This place. twice referred to
in the course of our story as hateful to the Highlanders, lies near the Staredant, a collection of waters in a very desolate hollow between the hill of Birham, and the road fromn Perth to Dunkeld.  The eerieness of the place is indescribable, and is rendered yet more striking from its being within a fiurlong
of one of the loveliest and richest scenes in Scotland-the north-west opening'
of Stratlhmore. The' dlai' has been nearly drained within these few years,
but the miserable patches of sickly corn which have with vast labour and cost
been obtained, look still imore mnelanclholy than thle solitary tarn which the
barren earth seems to have drunk up. The whole aspect of the place fitted
it for being the scene of the trial and punishment of one of the niost notorious
bands of thieves and outlaws that ever laid the Low Country under contribution. Rutliven, the sheriff, is said to have held his court on a rising ground to
the north, still called the Court-hill and there were lately, or there still muay
be, at the east end of the Roch-in-roy wood, some oaks on which the Hlighlanders were hung, and which long went by the name of the Hange(l-men'strees. The hideous appearance of the bodies hanging in chains gave the place
a name which to this day grates oin the ear of a Celt."-.MoitlssoN.
30. Page 222. " The gardens of the Dominicans surrounded the moisas.
tery on all sides, and were of great extent aind beauty.  Part of them imnnmediately adjoined the North Inch, and covered all that space of grounsd now
occupied by Atholl Place, the Crescent, and Rose Terrace. biesides a consilerable extent of ground to the west and south, still known by the name of the
Black Friars. On a part of these grounds overlooking the North Inch, probably near the south end of the Terrace, a richly decorated suimnier-house stood,
which is frequently mentioned in old writings as the Gilten Arbour.  Froin
the balconies of' this edifice King-Robert is supposed to have witnessed the
conflict of the clans.  What the peculiar forms, constructionl, or orllameits
of this building' were, which gained for it this title, is not even hinted at by
ally of' the local chroniclers.  It may be mentioned, however, although it is a
master of mere tradition, that the ornaments on the ceiling of thle Milonks'
Tower (a circular watch-tower at the south-east angle of the town) were said
to have been copied from those on the Gilten Arbour, by orders of the first
Earl of Gowrie, at the corner of whose garden the Monks''T'ower stood.
This tower was taken down at the same time with Gowrie House, and n:ani,




ST, VALENT1NE' S DAY.                          269
yet remember the general appearance of tne paintings on the ceiling, yet it
does not seem to have occurred to any onie to have had them copied. They
were allegorical and astronomical, representing  the virtues and vices, the
seasons, the zodiac, and other subjects commonplace enough; yet even the
surmise that they might have beenr copied from others still more ancient, if it
could not save them  from destruction, should have entitled thein to a greater
share than they seem to have possessed of the notice of their contemporaries.
The patience with which the antiquaries of Perth have submitted to the removal (in many cases the wanton and useless reinoval) of tile historical monuments with which they were at one time surrounded, is truly wonderful!"IMORRISON.
31. Page 247. Meaning, 1 did such a thing for my own pleasurej not for
your profit.
32. Page 249. The reader may be amused with the account of this onslaught in Boece, as translated by Bellenden.
" At this time, mekil of all the north of Scotland was hevely trublit be two
clannlis of Irimen, namit Clankayis and Glenquhattanis 3 invading the cuntre,
be thair weris, with ithand slauchter and reif. At last, it was apponitit betwix
the heidis-men of thir two clannis, be avise of the Erlis of Murray and Crawfurd, that xxx of the principall men of the ta clan sal cum, with othir xxx of
the tothir clan, arrayit in thair best avise; and sall convene afore the king at
Perth, for decision of al pleis; and fecht with scharp swerdis to the deith, but
ony harnes; and that clan (luhare the, victory succedit, to have perpetuall
empire above the tothir. Baith thir elannis, glaid of this condition, come to
the North Inchie, beside Perth, with jugis set in scaffaldis, to discus the verite.
Ane of thir clannis wantit ane man to perfurnis furth the nowmer, anid wagit
aiie carll, for money, to debait thair actioun, howbeit this man pertenit na
thing to thaim in blud nor kinldnes.  Thir two clannis stude arrayit with Yret
hbatrent aganis othir; and, be sound of' trumpet, rusehit toglidder; takand na
respect to thair woundlis, sa that thay micht distroy thair ennimes; and faucht
in this maner iang, with uncertane victory:   uhen ane fel. ane othir was put
in his rowme. At last, the Clankayis war al slane except ane, that swam
throw the watter of Tay. Of Glenquhattannis, was left xi personis on live
bot thay war sa hurt, that thay micht nocht haldc thair swerdis in thair handis.
This debait was fra the incarnationl, lcccxcVI yeiris."
33. Page 254. The death of the Duke of Rothsav is not accompanied
with the circumstances detailed by later writers in Wyntoun. The Chronicler
of Lochlevenl says simply" A thousand foure hiundyr yeris and twa,
All before as ye herd done,
Our lord the kiiigis eldest sone,
Suete and vertuous, yong and fair,
And his nerast lauchful ayr,
1-dniest, habil, and avenaud,
Our Lorde, our Prynce, in all plesand,
Cuinnand into letterature,
A seymly personie in stature,
Schir Davy Duke of Rothesay,
Of Marche the sevyni and twenty day
Yaild his Saule til his Creatoure,
}Iis corse til hallowit Sepulture.
In Lundoris, his Body lies,
His Spirite intil Paradys." —B. ix. chap. 23.
The Continuator of Fordun is far more particular, and though be does not
positively pronounce on the guilt of Albany, says enough to shotw that, when
he wrote. the suspicion ag'sinst him was universal; and that Sir John R;amorny




270                            NOTES TO
was generally considered as having followed the dark and double course as.
cribed to him in the novel.
"Anno Domini millesimo quadringentesimo primo, obiit columna ecclesi~e
robustissima, vas eloquentiwa, thesaurus scientiac, ac defelisor catholice fidei,
dominus Walterus'ITreyl episcopus S. Andrew; et etiam  domina Anabella
regina apud Sconam decessit, et sepulta est in Dunfernlelyn.  Hi enim duo,
dun viverent, honorem quasi res'ni exaltabant; videlicet, prinecipes et magnates in discordiam concitatos ad concordiaml revocantes, alieni-enas et extraneos egregie susceptantes et convivianles, ac munifice dimissos'itificalites.
Unde quasi proverbialiter tune dictum exstitit, qubd mortuis regina Scotiw,
comite de Douglas, et episcopo Sancti Andrew, abiit decus, recessit honor, et
honestas obiit Scotim.  Eodem  anno  quarta mortalitas exstitit in regno
Paulo ante dominus rex in consilio deputavit certos consiliarios, valentes
barones et mililes, juratos  ad regendum  et consiliandum  dominum  David
Stewart ducemr  Rothsaiensem, comilem de Carrik. et principem  regni, quia
videbatur regi et consilio qu)d inmmiscebat se swapifis effrsenatis lusibus et levioribus ludicris. Propter quod et ipse consilio astrictus saniori, juravit se
regimini eorum et consilio conformare. Sed mortua regina ipsius nobili matre, quie eum in multis refrmnabat, tanquani laquets contritus fuisset, speravit
se liberatum, et, spreto proborum  consilio, (denuo in priori levitate se totumi
dedit.  Propter quod consilium procerum sibi assignattum quitabit se regi, et
si voluisset, noll tamen posse se eum ad gravitatem morum fexisse attestatur.
Ullde rex impotens et decrepitus scripsit fratri suo duci Albanive, gubernatori
regni, ut arrestaretur, et ad tempus custodiee deputaretur, donee virga disciphlnae castigatus, seipsum  melitus cognosceret.  Non enim  osculatur filium
pater, sed aliquando castigat.  Sed quod rex proposuit ad filii emendam, telldit ei ad noxain. Nam uterque bajulus literai regalis ad gubernatorem  de
facto ostendit, se incentorem et instigatorema regi ut taliter demandaret, quod
honori alterius obviaret, sicut experientia exitus rei patefecit.  Domini enim
Willelinus Lindesay de Rossy et Johannes Remorgeney milites, regis familiares et colsiliarii, nuncii et portatores erant literarum  regis gubernatori:
quique etian, ut dicitur, duci Rothsaiensi prilis suggesserunt, ut, post obitum
episcopi Sancti Andrew, castrum slunlm ad usum regis, quousque novus episcopus institueretur, reciperet et servaret: quiqlue ipsulm ducem, nihil mali
prasmeditatum, ad castrum  Sancti Andrewe sillpliciter, et cuin moderata familia, equitantem, inter villam  de Nidi et Stratyruin arrestaverunt, et per
potentiam eundem ducem ad ipsum  castrum Sancti Andreae, sibi ad deiiberandum  paratum, induxerunt, et ibidein in custodia tenuerunt, quousque dux
Albania cum suo consilio apud Culros tento, quid de eo facerent, deliberaverunt. Qui quidenm dux Albanim, cum domino Archibaldo 11. comite de Douglas,manu valid-a ipsum ad turrim de Faulkland, jumento impositum et russeto
collobio chlamidatum trasvexerllllt: ubi in quadam  hlonesta camerula eum
servandum deputaverunt,  In qua tam diu custoditus, scilicet per Johannelm
Selkirk et Johannem  WVrvcht, donec dyssenteria. sire, ut alii volunt, fame
tabefactus, finem vitue dedit vij. Kal. Aprilis, in vigilia. Paschm, serb, sive in
die Paschwe summo mane, et sepultus est in Loendoris.  Praemissus ver6
Johannes Remorgeney tain principi, quam  domino regi, erat consiliarius,
audax spiritu, et pronunciatione eloquentissinmus, ac in arduis causis prolocutor regis, et causiclicus  disertissimus: qui, ut dicitur, ante hwc suggessit ipsi
principi duci Rothsaiensi, ut patruum  sutm  ducem  Albaniwe  arrestaret, et,
qualicunque occasione nacut, statim de medio tolleret: quod facere omnilo
princeps refutavit.  Istud attendens miles, malitiw sum fuligine occwcatus,   a
coeptis desistere nequivit, hujusmodi labe attachiatus; quia, ut ait Chrysostomus,' Coerceri omnino nequit animus prava semel voluntate vitiatus.' Et
ideo, vice versa, pallium in alterurn humerum convertens, hlioce idem  maleticium ducem Albaniwe de nepote suo duce Rothsaiensi ftcere instrlxit; alias
fine fallo, tit asseruit, dux Rtothsaiensis de ipso filler  facturus fuisset.  Dictus
Insuper D. Willelmus Lilldesay cuin ipso Johainie Remorgeney in eandem
sententiam forte consentivit, pro eo qubd dictus dux Rotfisaiensis sororemn
ipsius D. Willelmi Euphlemiam de Lindesay affidavit, sed per sequentia alLs



ST. VALENTINE S DAY.                              271
rum matrimonia attemptata, sicut et filiam comitis Marchiae, sic eandem re.
p.udiavit.  Ipse enim,  ut restimo, est ille David, de quo vates de Breclyngton
sic vaticinatus est, dicenls;
Psalletur gestis David luxuria festis,
Qubd tenet uxores uxore sua meliores,
Deficient mores regales, perdel honores.
Paulo ante captionern suarn apparuit nirabilis cometes, emittens ex se radios
crinitos ad Aquiloiemn tendentes.  Ad quam visendum, ciim primb appareret,
quodam vesp.ere in castro de Edinburgh cnum  aliis ipse dux secedens, fertur
ipsum sic de stella disseruisse, dicens;' Ut a mathematicis audivi, hujuslmodi
cometes, ctni apparet, siglnat mortem vel mutationem  alicujus principis, vel
alicujus patrire destructionemn.'  Et sic evenit ut proedixit.  Nam, duce capto,
statim in prajacentem materiam, sicut Deus voluit, redit stella.  In hoe potuit
iste dux Sibylle prophetissme comparari, de qua sic loquitur Claudianus:
Miror, cur alliis qusm fata pandere soles,
Ad propriamn cladem  cecea Sibylla taces."
The narrative of Boece attaches murder distinctly to Albany.  After mentioning the death of Queen Annabella Drummond, he thus proceeds:" Be quhais deith, succedit gret displeseir to hir son, David. Dltk of Rothesay: for, during hir life, he wes Ialdin in virtews and honest occupatioun:
eftir hir deith, he began to rage in all maner of insolence, and fulyeit vir-:itS, nlatronis, and nunnis; be his unbridillit lust.  At last, K'Dlg Robert, informit of his young and insolent maneris, send letteris to his brothir, the Duke
of Albany, to intertene his said son, the Duk of Rothesay, andc to leir him
honlest anid civill maneris.'Ihe I)uk of Albany, glaid of thir writtingls, tuk
the l)uk of Rothesay betwix Dunde alnd Sanect Androis, and brocht him to
Falkland, and inclusit him  in the tour thairof, but only meit or drink. It is
said, ane woman, havand commiseratioun on this Duk, leit rneill iall doun
throw the loftis of the toure: be quhilkis, his life wes certane dayis savit.
This womani, fra it wes knawit, wes piut to deith.  Onl the same manter, ane
othir woman g'aif him  milk of hir paup, throw ane lang reid; and wes slane
with gret ertuelte, fra it wes knawin.  Than wes the Duke destitute of all
mortall supplie; and broclit, finalie, to sa miserable arld1 hungry appetite, that
he eit, nochlt allanerlie the filth of the toure quhare he wees, 1'ot his auri  fillgaris: to his gret marterdomne.  His botly wes beryit in Iundoris, and kithit
iniraklis mony yeris eftir; qulhil, at last, King James the First began to punis
his slayaris; anld fra that tiine furth, the mniraclis ceissit."
l'he Remzission, which Albany and Douglas afterwards received at the
hands of Robert III., was first printed by Lord HIailes, anid is as follows:"Robertus, Dei gratih, Rex Scottorum, Universis, ad quorum  notitiam
priesentes literae pervenerint, Salutem in Domino senlpiternamn: Cum   uper
carissimi nobis, Robertus Albanire Dux, Comes de Fite et de Mlenteth, frater
noster germanus, et Archibaldus Comes (le Douglas, et Domintus Galwidiae,
filius noster secuniduin legem, ratione filiwe nostrie quamr  duxit in uxorem,
prmcarissilnum  filiuni nostrum  primogenitum  David, qulondam  Dulicen  Rothsave ac Comitem de Carrick et Athoeim, capi fecerunt, et personaliter arrestari, et in castro Sauct' Andrewe prirno custodili, deinideque apud Faucland
in custodia detineri, ubi ab hac luce, diviner providenltih, et non aliter, migrasse
dignloscitur.  Quibus comparenltibus coram niobis, in concilio nostro geinerali
apud Edinburgh, decimo sexto die mensis Maiil ainno Domitni millesimo quadringentesimo secundo, inchoato, et nonniullis diebus conititnuato, et super hoc
interrogatis ex officio nostro regali, sive accusatis, hujusmodi captioneal, arrestationiem, imortem, ut superius est expressurL. confitentes, causas ipsos ad
ho. moventes, pro publica, ut asseeruertit, utilitate arctantes, in proesentia
nostra assignlarunt, quas non duximus praseiltibus inserenidas, et ex causa:
lHabith (leinde super lhoc dili-enti iinqulisitione, conlsideratis omnibus et sitngulit
in liac parte considerandis, huljusmodi causam  tangenitibus, et inatura. delibe



~72            N'OTES TO $T. VALENTINE S DAY.
ratione concilii nostri proehabita. discussis, praenotatos Robertum- fratrel
nostrum gerlnanum, Archibaldumque filium nostrum secundum jura, ct eorunj
in hac parte participes quoscutque, viz. arrestatores, detentores, custodes,
consiliarios, et omnes alios consiliu m, videlicet, auxilinum, vel favorem eisdem
praestantes, sive eorum jussumn aut mandatuin qualitercunque exsequentes,
excusatos habemrus; necoun et ipsos, et eorum  quemlibet, a criminle Iesee
majestatis nostrua, vel alio quocunque crimine, culpa, injuria, rancore, et offelnsa, quae cis occasione praernissorum  impulari possent qualitercunque, in
dicto consilio  nostro palam  et public~ declaravimus, pronunciavirnus, et
diffilivimus, tenoreque prm sentium  declaramnus, pronunciamus,et per hanc
dliflinitivam nostranm sententiam (liflinimnus, innocentes, innoxios, inclpabiles,
quietos, liberos, et immrnunes, penitus et omnimnodo;  Et si quam contra ipsos,
sive eorum aliqueni, aut aliquam vel aliquos, in hoc facto qualitercunque participes, vel eis quomodolibet adharentes, indignationem, irain, rancorem, vel
offensionem, conlcepimus qualitercurique illos proprio motu, ex certa scientia,
et etiam ex deliberatione concilii nostri jam dicti, annullamus, removemus, et
adnullatos volumus haberi, in perpetuum.  Quare omnibus et singulis subditis
nostris, cujuseunque statfis aut conditionis exstiterint, districte praecipimus et
mandamus, quatenus snipe dictis Roberto et Archibaldo, eorumque in hoc
facto participibus, consentientibus, seu adhaerentibus, ut praemittitur, verbo
non detrahent, neque facto, nec contra eosdem  murmurent qualitercunque,
nude possit eoruin bona fama Iedi, vel aliquod prajudicium generari, sub
omni pcena qua exinde competere poterit, quomodolibet ipso jure. Datum,
sub testimonio masiii sigilli n ostri, in monasterio  Sancllt Crucis de Edinburh-, vicesimo tlie mensis Maii praidicti, anno Domini millesimo quadringentesimo secundo, et regni nostri anno tertio decimo."
Lord Hailes sums up his comment on the document with words which. as
Pinkerton says, leave no doubt that he considered the prince as having been
murdered: viz. "T'lhe Duke of Albany and the Earl of' P rg!as eobtained a
remission in terms as ample as if they had actually murdt(.ed the heir apparent."
END  OF ST. VALENTINE'S I)AY