the express orders of the worshipful Sir John de Walton, that the
soldiers who lie at outposts should afford to the inmates such
provisions as are not necessary for their own subsistence."
"Hush, Anthony, - hush, for shame!" replied his fellow-soldier, "if ever
I heard our host's step, I heard it this instant; so give over thy
grumbling, since our captain, as we all know, hath prohibited, under
strict penalties, all quarrels between his followers and the people of
the country."
"I am sure," replied Anthony, "that I have ministered occasion to none;
but I would I were equally certain of the good meaning of this sullen-
browed Thomas Dickson towards the English soldiers, for I seldom go to
bed in this dungeon of a house, but I expect my throat will gape as
wide as a thirsty oyster before I awaken. Here he comes, however,"
added Anthony, sinking his sharp tones as he spoke; "and I hope to be
excommunicated if he has not brought with him that mad animal, his son
Charles, and two other strangers, hungry enough, I'll be sworn, to eat
up the whole supper, if they do us no other injury."
"Shame of thyself, Anthony," repeated his comrade; "a good archer thou
as ever wore Kendal green, and yet affect to be frightened for two
tired travellers, and alarmed for the inroad their hunger may make on
the night's meal. There are four or five of us here - we have our bows
and our bills within reach, and scorn to be chased from our supper, or
cheated out of our share of it by a dozen Scotchmen, whether stationary
or strollers. How say'st thou?" he added, turning to Dickson - "How say
ye, quartermaster? it is no secret, that by the directions given to our
post, we must enquire into the occupations of such guests as you may
receive besides ourselves, your unwilling inmates; you are as ready for
supper, I warrant, as supper is for you, and I will only delay you and
my friend Anthony, - who becomes dreadfully impatient, until you answer
two or three questions which you wot of."
"Bend-the-Bow," answered Dickson, "thou art a civil fellow; and
although it is something hard to be constrained to give an account of
one's friends, because they chance to quarter in one's own house for a
night or two, yet I must submit to the times, and make no vain
opposition. You may mark down in your breviary there, that upon the
fourteenth day before Palm Sunday, Thomas Dickson brought to his house
of Hazelside, in which you hold garrison, by orders from the English
governor, Sir John de Walton, two strangers, to whom the said Thomas
Dickson had promised refreshment, and a bed for the evening, if it be
lawful at this time and place."
"But what are they, these strangers?" said Anthony, somewhat sharply.
"A fine world the while," murmured Thomas Dickson, "that an honest man
should be forced to answer the questions of every paltry companion!" -
But he mitigated his voice and proceeded. "The eldest of my guests is
Bertram, an ancient English minstrel, who is bound on his own errand to
the Castle of Douglas, and will communicate what he has to say of news
to Sir John de Walton himself. I have known him for twenty years, and
never heard any thing of him save that he was good man and true. The
younger stranger is his son, a lad recovering from the English disorder,
which has been raging far and wide in Westmoreland and Cumberland."
"Tell me," said Bend-the-Bow, "this same Bertram, - was he not about a
year since in the service of some noble lady in our own country?"
"I have heard so," answered Dickson.
"We shall, in that case, I think, incur little danger," replied Bend-
the-Bow, "by allowing this old man and his son to proceed on their
journey to the castle."
"You are my elder and my better," answered Anthony; "but I may remind
you that it is not so clearly our duty to give free passage, into a
garrison of a thousand men of all ranks, to a youth who has been so
lately attacked by a contagious disorder; and I question if our
commander would not rather hear that the Black Douglas, with a hundred
devils as black as himself, since such is his colour, had taken
possession of the outposts of Hazelside with sword and battle-axe, than
that one person suffering under this fell sickness had entered
peaceably, and by the open wicket of the castle."
"There is something in what thou sayest, Anthony," replied his comrade;
"and considering that our governor, since he has undertaken the
troublesome job of keeping a castle which is esteemed so much more
dangerous than any other within Scotland, has become one of the most
cautious and jealous men in the world, we had better, I think, inform
him of the circumstance, and take his commands how the stripling is to
be dealt with."
"Content am I," said the archer; "and first, methinks, I would just, in
order to show that we know what belongs to such a case, ask the
stripling a few questions, as how long he has been ill, by what
physicians he has been attended, when he was cured, and how his cure is
certified, &e."
"True, brother," said Bend-the-Bow. "Thou hearest, minstrel, we would
ask thy son some questions - What has become of him? - he was in this
apartment but now."
"So please you," answered Bertram, "he did but pass through the
apartment. Mr. Thomas Dickson, at my entreaty, as well as in respectful
reverence to your honour's health, carried him through the room without
tarriance, judging his own bed-chamber the fittest place for a young
man recovering from a severe illness, and after a day of no small
fatigue."
"Well," answered the elder archer, "though it is uncommon for men who,
like us, live by bow-string and quiver, to meddle with interrogations
and examinations; yet, as the case stands, we must make some enquiries
of your son, ere we permit him to set forth to the Castle of Douglas,
where you say his errand leads him."
"Rather my errand, noble sir," said the minstrel, "than that of the
young man himself."
"If such be the case," answered Bend-the-Bow, "we may sufficiently do
our duty by sending yourself, with the first grey light of dawn, to the
castle, and letting your son remain in bed, which I warrant is the
fittest place for him, until we shall receive Sir John de Walton's
commands whether he is to be brought onward or not."
"And we may as well," said Anthony, "since we are to have this man's
company at supper, make him acquainted with the rules of the out-
garrison stationed here for the time." So saying, he pulled a scroll
from his leathern pouch, and said, "Minstrel, canst thou read?"
"It becomes my calling," said the minstrel.
"It has nothing to do with mine, though," answered the archer, "and
therefore do thou read these regulations aloud; for since I do not
comprehend these characters by sight, I lose no chance of having them
read over to me as often as I can, that I may fix their sense in my
memory. So beware that thou readest the words letter for letter as they
are set down; for thou dost so at thy peril, Sir Minstrel, if thou
readest not like a true man."
"On my minstrel word," said Bertram, and began to read excessively
slow; for he wished to gain a little time for consideration, which he
foresaw would be necessary to prevent his being separated from his
mistress, which was likely to occasion her much anxiety and distress.
He therefore began thus: - "'Outpost at Hazelside, the steading of
Goodman Thomas Dickson' - Ay, Thomas, and is thy house so called?"
"It is the ancient name of the steading," said the Scot, "being
surrounded by a hazel-shaw, or thicket."
"Hold your chattering tongue, minstrel," said Anthony, "and proceed, as
you value your ears, which you seem disposed to make less use of."
"'His garrison'" proceeded the minstrel, reading, "'consists of a lance
with its furniture.' What, then, a lance, in other words, a belted
knight, commands this party?"
"'Tis no concern of thine," said the archer.
"But it is," answered the minstrel; "we have a right to be examined by
the highest person in presence."
"I will show thee, thou rascal," said the archer, starting up, "that I
am lance enough for thee to reply to, and I will break thy head if thou
say'st a word more."
"Take care, brother Anthony," said his comrade, "we are to use
travellers courteously - and, with your leave, those travellers best who
come from our native land."
"It is even so stated here," said the minstrel, and he proceeded to
read: - "'The watch at this outpost of Hazelside [Footnote: Hazelside
Place, the fief granted to Thomas Dickson by William the Hardy, seventh
Lord Douglas, is still pointed out about two miles to the southwest of
the Castle Dangerous. Dickson was sixty years of age at the time when
Lord James first appeared in Douglasdale. His heirs kept possession of
the fief for centuries; and some respectable gentlemen's families in
Lanarkshire still trace themselves to this ancestor. - _From Notes by
Mr. Haddow_.] shall stop and examine all travellers passing by the
said station, suffering such to pass onward to the town of Douglas or
to Douglas Castle, always interrogating them with civility, and
detaining and turning them back if there arise matter of suspicion; but
conducting themselves in all matters civilly and courteously to the
people of the country, and to those who travel in it.' You see, most
excellent and valiant archer," added the commentator Bertram, "that
courtesy and civility are, above all, recommended to your worship in
your conduct towards the inhabitants, and those passengers who, like us,
may chance to fall under your rules in such matters."
"I am not to be told at this time of day," said the archer, "how to
conduct myself in the discharge of my duties. Let me advise you, Sir
Minstrel, to be frank and open in your answers to our enquiries, and
you shall have no reason to complain."
"I hope at all events," said the minstrel, "to have your favour for my
son, who is a delicate stripling, and not accustomed to play his part
among the crew which inhabit this wild world."
"Well," continued the elder and more civil of the two archers, "if thy
son be a novice in this terrestrial navigation, I warrant that thou, my
friend, from thy look and manner of speech, hast enough of skill to use
thy compass. To comfort thee, although thou must thyself answer the
questions of our governor or deputy-governor, in order that he may see
there is no offence in thee, I think there may be permission granted
for thy son's residing here in the convent hard by, (where the nuns, by
the way, are as old as the monks, and have nearly as long beards, so
thou mayst be easy about thy son's morals,) until thou hast done thy
business at Douglas Castle, and art ready to resume thy journey."
"If such permission," said the minstrel, "can be obtained, I should be
better pleased to leave him at the abbey, and go myself, in the first
place, to take the directions of your commanding officer."
"Certainly," answered the archer, "that will be the safest and best
way; and with a piece or two of money, thou mayst secure the protection
of the abbot."
"Thou say'st well," answered the minstrel; "I have known life, I have
known every stile, gap, pathway, and pass of this wilderness of ours
for some thirty years; and he that cannot steer his course fairly
through it like an able seaman, after having served such an
apprenticeship, can hardly ever be taught, were a century to be given
him to learn it in."
"Since thou art so expert a mariner," answered the archer Anthony,
"thou hast, I warrant me, met in thy wanderings a potation called a
morning's draught, which they who are conducted by others, where they
themselves lack experience, are used to bestow upon those who undertake
the task of guide upon such an occasion?"
"I understand you, sir," quoth the minstrel; "and although money, or
_drink-geld_, as the Fleming calls it, is rather a scarce
commodity in the purse of one of my calling, yet according to my feeble
ability, thou shalt have no cause to complain that thine eyes or those
of thy comrades have been damaged by a Scottish mist, while we can find
an English coin to pay for the good liquor which would wash them
clear."
"Content," said the archer; "we now understand each other; and if
difficulties arise on the road, thou shalt not want the countenance of
Anthony to sail triumphantly through them. But thou hadst better let
thy son know soon of the early visit to the abbot to-morrow, for thou
mayst guess that we cannot and dare not delay our departure for the
convent a minute after the eastern sky is ruddy; and, with other
infirmities, young men often are prone to laziness and a love of ease."
"Thou shalt have no reason to think so," answered the minstrel; "not
the lark himself, when waked by the first ray peeping over the black
cloud, springs more lightly to the sky, than will my Augustine answer
the same brilliant summons. And now we understand each other, I would
only further pray you to forbear light talk while my son is in your
company, - a boy of innocent life, and timid in conversation."
"Nay, jolly minstrel," said the elder archer, "thou givest us here too
gross an example of Satan reproving sin. If thou hast followed thy
craft for twenty years, as thou pretendest, thy son, having kept thee
company since childhood, must by this time be fit to open a school to
teach even devils the practice of the seven deadly sins, of which none
know the theory if those of the _gay science_ are lacking."
"Truly, comrade, thou speakest well," answered Bertram, "and I
acknowledge that we minstrels are too much to blame in this matter.
Nevertheless, in good sooth, the fault is not one of which I myself am
particularly guilty; on the contrary, I think that he who would wish to
have his own hair honoured when time has strewed it with silver, should
so rein his mirth when in the presence of the young, as may show in
what respect he holds innocence. I will, therefore, with your
permission, speak a word to Augustine, that to-morrow we must be on
foot early."
"Do so, my friend," said the English soldier; "and do the same the more
speedily that our poor supper is still awaiting until thou art ready to
partake of it."
"To which, I promise thee," said Bertram, "I am disposed to entertain,
no delay."
"Follow me, then," said Dickson, "and I will show thee where this young
bird of thine has his nest."
Their host accordingly tripped up the wooden stair, and tapped at a
door, which he thus indicated was that of his younger guest.
"Your father," continued he, as the door opened, "would speak with you,
Master Augustine."
"Excuse me, my host," answered Augustine, "the truth is, that this room
being directly above your eating-chamber, and the flooring not in the
best possible repair, I have been compelled to the unhandsome practice
of eavesdropping, and not a word has escaped me that passed concerning
my proposed residence at the abbey, our journey to-morrow, and the
somewhat early hour at which I must shake off sloth, and, according to
thy expression, fly down from the roost."
"And how dost thou relish," said Dickson, "being left with the Abbot of
Saint Bride's little flock here."
"Why, well," said the youth, "if the abbot is a man of respectability
becoming his vocation, and not one of those swaggering churchmen, who
stretch out the sword, and bear themselves like rank soldiers in these
troublous times."
"For that, young master," said Dickson, "if you let him put his hand
deep enough into your purse, he will hardly quarrel with any thing."
"Then I will leave him to my father," replied Augustine, "who will not
grudge him any thing he asks in reason."
"In that case," replied the Scotchman, "you may trust to our abbot for
good accommodation - and so both sides are pleased."
"It is well, my son," said Bertram, who now joined in the conversation;
"and that thou mayst be ready for early travelling, I shall presently
get our host to send thee some food, after partaking of which thou
shouldst go to bed and sleep off the fatigue of to-day, since to-morrow
will bring work for itself."
"And as for thy engagement to these honest archers," answered Augustine,
"I hope you will be able to do what will give pleasure to our guides,
if they are disposed to be civil and true men."
"God bless thee, my child!" answered Bertram; "thou knowest already
what would drag after thy beck all the English archers that were ever
on this side of the Solway. There is no fear of a grey goose shaft, if
you sing a _reveillez_ like to that which chimed even now from
that silken nest of dainty young goldfinches."
"Hold me as in readiness, then," said the seeming youth, "when you
depart to-morrow morning. I am within hearing, I suppose, of the bells
of Saint Bride's chapel, and have no fear, through my sloth, of keeping
you or your company waiting."
"Good night, and God bless thee, my child!" again said the minstrel;
"remember that your father sleeps not far distant, and on the slightest
alarm will not fail to be with you. I need scarce bid thee recommend
thyself, meantime, to the great Being, who is the friend and father of
us all."
The pilgrim thanked his supposed father for his evening blessing, and
the visitors withdrew without farther speech at the time, leaving the
young lady to those engrossing fears, which, the novelty of her
situation, and the native delicacy of her sex being considered,
naturally thronged upon her.
The tramp of a horse's foot was not long after heard at the house of
Hazelside, and the rider was welcomed by its garrison with marks of
respect. Bertram understood so much as to discover from the
conversation of the warders that this late arrival was Aymer de Valence,
the knight who commanded the little party, and to the furniture of
whose lance, as it was technically called, belonged the archers with
whom we have already been acquainted, a man-at-arms or two, a certain
proportion of pages or grooms, and, in short, the command and guidance
of the garrison at Thomas Dickson's, while in rank he was Deputy-
governor of Douglas Castle.
To prevent all suspicion respecting himself and his companion, as well
as the risk of the latter being disturbed, the minstrel thought it
proper to present himself to the inspection of this knight, the great
authority of the little place. He found him with as little scruple as
the archers heretofore, making a supper of the relics of the roast beef.
Before this young knight Bertram underwent an examination, while an old
soldier took down in writing such items of information as the examinate
thought proper to express in his replies, both with regard to the
minutiae of his present journey, his business at Castle Douglas, and
his route when that business should be accomplished; a much more minute
examination, in a word, than he had hitherto undergone by the archers,
or perhaps than was quite agreeable to him, being encumbered with at
least the knowledge of one secret, whatever more. Not that this new
examinator had any thing stern or severe in his looks or his questions.
As to the first, he was mild, gentle, and "meek as a maid," and
possessed exactly of the courteous manners ascribed by our father
Chaucer to the pattern of chivalry whom he describes upon his
pilgrimage to Canterbury. But with all his gentleness, De Valence
showed a great degree of acuteness and accuracy in his queries; and
well pleased was Bertram that the young knight did not insist upon
seeing his supposed son, although even in that case his ready wit had
resolved, like a seaman in a tempest, to sacrifice one part to preserve
the rest. He was not, however, driven to this extremity, being treated
by Sir Aymer with that degree of courtesy which in that age men of song
were in general thought entitled to. The knight kindly and liberally
consented to the lad's remaining in the convent, as a fit and quiet
residence for a stripling and an invalid, until Sir John de Walton
should express his pleasure on the subject; and Sir Aymer consented to
this arrangement the more willingly, as it averted all possible danger
of bringing disease into the English garrison.
By the young knight's order, all in Dickson's house were despatched
earlier to rest than usual; the matin bell of the neighbouring chapel
being the signal for their assembly by daybreak. They rendezvoused
accordingly, and proceeded to Saint Bride's, where they heard mass,
after which an interview took place between the abbot Jerome and the
minstrel, in which the former undertook, with the permission of De
Valence, to receive Augustine into his abbey as a guest for a few days,
less or more, and for which Bertram promised an acknowledgment in name
of alms, which was amply satisfactory.
"So be it," said Bertram, taking leave of his supposed son; "rely on it
I will not tarry a day longer at Douglas Castle than shall suffice for
transacting my business there, which is to look after the old books you
wot of, and I will speedily return for thee to the Abbey of Saint Bride,
to resume in company our journey homeward."
"O father," replied the youth, with a smile, "I fear if you get among
romances and chronicles, you will be so earnest in your researches,
that you will forget poor Augustine and his concerns."
"Never fear me, Augustine," said the old man, making the motion of
throwing a kiss towards the boy; "thou art good and virtuous, and
Heaven will not neglect thee, were thy father unnatural enough to do so.
Believe me, all the old songs since Merlin's day shall not make me
forget thee."
Thus they separated, the minstrel, with the English knight and his
retinue, to move towards the castle, and the youth in dutiful
attendance on the venerable abbot, who was delighted to find that his
guest's thoughts turned rather upon spiritual things than on the
morning repast, of the approach of which he could not help being
himself sensible.
CHAPTER THE THIRD.
This night, methinks, is but the daylight sick.
It looks a little paler; 'tis a day
Such as the day is when the sun is hid.
MERCHANT OF VENICE.
To facilitate the progress of the party on its way to Douglas Castle,
the Knight of Valence offered the minstrel the convenience of a horse,
which the fatigues of yesterday made him gladly accept. Any one
acquainted with equestrian exercise, is aware that no means of
refreshment carries away the sense of fatigue from over walking so
easily, as the exchange to riding, which calls into play another set of
muscles, and leaves those which have been over exerted an opportunity
of resting through change of motion, more completely than they could in
absolute repose. Sir Aymer de Valence was sheathed in armour, and
mounted on his charger, two of the archers, a groom of mean rank, and a
squire, who looked in his day for the honour of knighthood, completed
the detachment, which seemed so disposed as to secure the minstrel from
escape, and to protect him against violence. "Not," said the young
knight, addressing himself to Bertram, "that there is usually danger in
travelling in this country any more than in the most quiet districts of
England; but some disturbances, as you may have learnt, have broken out
here within this last year, and have caused the garrison of Castle
Douglas to maintain a stricter watch. But let us move on, for the
complexion of the day is congenial with the original derivation of the
name of the country, and the description of the chiefs to whom it
belonged - _Sholto Dhu Glass_ - (see yon dark grey man,) and dark
grey will our route prove this morning, though by good luck it is not
long."
The morning was indeed what the original Gaelic words implied, a
drizzly, dark, moist day; the mist had settled upon the hills, and
unrolled itself upon brook, glade, and tarn, and the spring breeze was
not powerful enough to raise the veil, though from the wild sounds
which were heard occasionally on the ridges, and through the glens, it
might be supposed to wail at a sense of its own inability. The route of
the travellers was directed by the course which the river had ploughed
for itself down the valley, the banks of which bore in general that
dark grey livery which Sir Aymer de Valence had intimated to be the
prevalent tint of the country. Some ineffectual struggles of the sun
shot a ray here and there to salute the peaks of the hills; yet these
were unable to surmount the dulness of a March morning, and, at so
early an hour, produced a variety of shades, rather than a gleam of
brightness upon the eastern horizon. The view was monotonous and
depressing, and apparently the good knight Aymer sought some amusement
in occasional talk with Bertram, who, as was usual with his craft,
possessed a fund of knowledge, and a power of conversation, well suited
to pass away a dull morning. The minstrel, well pleased to pick up such
information as he might be able concerning the present state of the
country, embraced every opportunity of sustaining the dialogue.
"I would speak with you, Sir Minstrel," said the young knight. "If thou
dost not find the air of this morning too harsh for thine organs,
heartily do I wish thou wouldst fairly tell me what can have induced
thee, being, as thou seemst, a man of sense, to thrust thyself into a
wild country like this, at such a time. - And you, my masters,"
addressing the archers and the rest of the party, "methinks it would be
as fitting and seeming if you reined back your steeds for a horse's
length or so, since I apprehend you can travel on your way without the
pastime of minstrelsy." The bowmen took the hint, and fell back, but,
as was expressed by their grumbling observations, by no means pleased
that there seemed little chance of their overhearing what conversation
should pass between the young knight and the minstrel, which proceeded
as follows -
"I am, then, to understand, good minstrel," said the knight, "that you,
who have in your time borne arms, and even followed Saint George's red-
cross banner to the Holy Sepulchre, are so little tired of the danger
attending our profession, that you feel yourself attracted
unnecessarily to regions where the sword, for ever loose in its
scabbard, is ready to start on the slightest provocation?"
"It would be hard," replied the minstrel bluntly, "to answer such a
question in the affirmative; and yet, when you consider how nearly
allied is his profession who celebrates deeds of arms with that of the
knight who performs them, your honour, I think, will hold it advisable
that a minstrel desirous of doing his devoir, should, like a young
knight, seek the truth of adventures where it is to be found, and
rather visit countries where the knowledge is preserved of high and
noble deeds, than those lazy and quiet realms, in which men live
indolently, and die ignobly in peace, or by sentence of law. You
yourself, sir, and those like you, who hold life cheap in respect of
glory, guide your course through this world on the very same principle
which brings your poor rhyming servant Bertram from a far province of
merry England, to this dark country of rugged Scotland called Douglas
Dale. You long to see adventures worthy of notice, and I (under favour
for naming us two in the same breath) seek a scanty and precarious, but
not a dishonourable living, by preparing for immortality, as well as I
can, the particulars of such exploits, especially the names of those
who were the heroes of these actions. Each, therefore, labours in his
vocation; nor can the one be justly wondered at more than the other,
seeing that if there be any difference in the degrees of danger to
which both the hero and the poet are exposed, the courage, strength,
arms, and address of the valiant knight, render it safer for him to
venture into scenes of peril, than for the poor man of rhyme."
"You say well," answered the warrior; "and although it is something of
novelty to me to hear your craft represented as upon a level with my
own mode of life, yet shame were it to say that the minstrel who toils
so much to keep in memory the feats of gallant knights should not
himself prefer fame to existence, and a single achievement of valour to
a whole age without a name, or to affirm that he follows a mean and
unworthy profession."
"Your worship will then acknowledge," said the minstrel, "that it is a
legitimate object in such as myself, who, simple as I am, have taken my
regular degrees among the professors of the _gay science_ at the
capital town of Aigues-Mortos, to struggle forward into this northern
district, where I am well assured many things have happened which have
been adapted to the harp by minstrels of great fame in ancient days,
and have become the subject of lays which lie deposited in the library
of Castle Douglas, where, unless copied over by some one who
understands the old British characters and language, they must, with
whatever they may contain, whether of entertainment or edification, be
speedily lost to posterity. If these hidden treasures were preserved
and recorded by the minstrel art of my poor self and others, it might
be held well to compensate for the risk of a chance blow of a
broadsword, or the sweep of a brown bill, while I am engaged in
collecting them; and I were unworthy of the name of a man, much more of
an inventor or finder, [Footnote: The name of Maker stands for
_Poet_ (with the original sense of which word it exactly
corresponds) in the old Scottish language. That of _Trouveur_ or
Troubadour - Finder, in short - has a similar meaning, and almost in
every country the poetical tribes have been graced with the same
epithets, inferring the property of those who employ invention or
creation.] should I weigh the loss of life, a commodity always so
uncertain, against the chance of that immortality which will survive in
my lay after my broken voice and shivered harp shall no longer be able
either to express tune or accompany tale."
"Certainly," said Sir Aymer, "having a heart to feel such a motive, you
have an undoubted right to express it; nor should I have been in any
degree disposed to question it had I found many minstrels prepared,
like yourself, to prefer renown even to life itself, which most men
think of greatly more consequence."
"There are, indeed, noble sir," replied Bertram, "minstrels, and, with
your reverence, even belted knights themselves, who do not sufficiently
value that renown which is acquired at the risk of life. To such
ignoble men we must leave their own reward - let us abandon to them
earth, and the things of earth, since they cannot aspire to that glory
which is the _best_ reward of others."
The minstrel uttered these last words with such enthusiasm, that the
knight drew his bridle, and stood fronting Bertram, with his
countenance kindling at the same theme, on which, after a short silence,
he expressed himself with a like vivacity.
"Well fare thy heart, gay companion! I am happy to see there is still
so much enthusiasm surviving in the world. Thou hast fairly won the
minstrel groat; and if I do not pay it in conformity to my sense of thy
merit, it shall be the fault of dame Fortune, who has graced my labours
in these Scottish wars with the niggard pay of Scottish money. A gold
piece or two there must be remaining of the ransom of one French knight,
whom chance threw into my hands, and that, my friend, shall surely be
thine own; and hark thee, I, Aymer de Valence, who now speak to thee,
am born of the noble House of Pembroke; and though now landless, shall,
by the grace of Our Lady, have in time a fitting establishment, wherein
I will find room for a minstrel like thee, if thy talents have not by
that time found thee a better patron."
"Thank thee, noble knight," said the minstrel, "as well for thy present
intentions, as I hope I shall for thy future performance; but I may say,
with truth, that I have not the sordid inclination of many of my
brethren."
"He who partakes the true thirst of noble fame," said the young knight,
"can have little room in his heart for the love of gold. But thou hast
not yet told me, friend minstrel, what are the motives, in particular
which have attracted thy wandering steps to this wild country?"
"Were I to do so," replied Bertram, rather desirous to avoid the
question, as in some respects too nearly bordering on the secret
purpose of his journey, "it might sound like a studied panegyric on
thine own bold deeds, Sir Knight, and those of your companions in arms;
and such adulation, minstrel as I am, I hate like an empty cup at a
companion's lips. But let me say in few words, that Douglas Castle, and
the deeds of valour which it has witnessed, have sounded wide through
England; nor is there a gallant knight or trusty minstrel, whose heart
does not throb at the name of the stronghold, which, in former days,
the foot of an Englishman never entered, except in hospitality. There
is a magic in the very names of Sir John de Walton and Sir Aymer de
Valence, the gallant defenders of a place so often won back by its
ancient lords, and with such circumstances of valour and cruelty, that
it bears, in England, the name of the Dangerous Castle."
"Yet I would fain hear," answered the knight, "your own minstrel
account of those legends which have induced you, for the amusement of
future times, to visit a country which, at this period, is so
distracted and perilous."
"If you can endure the length of a minstrel tale," said Bertram - "I for
one am always amused by the exercise of my vocation, and have no
objection to tell my story, provided you do not prove an impatient
listener."
"Nay, for that matter," said the young knight, "a fair listener thou
shalt have of me; and if my reward be not great, my attention at least
shall be remarkable."
"And he," said the minstrel, "must be a poor gleeman who does not hold
himself better paid with that, than with gold or silver, were the
pieces English rose-nobles. On this condition, then, I begin a long
story, which may, in one or other of its details, find subject for
better minstrels than myself, and be listened to by such warriors as
you hundreds of years hence."
CHAPTER THE FOURTH.
While many a merry lay and many a song
Cheer'd the rough road, we wish'd the rough road long;
The rough road then returning in a round,
Mark'd their impatient steps, for all was fairy ground.
DR. JOHNSON.
"It was about the year of redemption one thousand two hundred and
eighty-five years," began, the minstrel, "when King Alexander the Third
of Scotland lost his daughter Margaret, whose only child of the same
name, called the Maiden of Norway, (as her father was king of that
country,) became the heiress of this kingdom of Scotland, as well as of
her father's crown. An unhappy death was this for Alexander, who had no
nearer heirs left of his own body than this grandchild. She indeed
might claim his kingdom by birthright; but the difficulty of
establishing such a claim of inheritance must have been anticipated by
all who bestowed a thought upon the subject. The Scottish king,
therefore, endeavoured to make up for his loss by replacing his late
Queen, who was an English princess, sister of our Edward the First,
with Juletta, daughter of the Count de Dreux. The solemnities at the
nuptial ceremony, which took place in the town of Jedburgh, were very
great and remarkable, and particularly when, amidst the display of a
pageant which was exhibited on the occasion, a ghastly spectre made its
appearance in the form of a skeleton, as the King of Terrors is said to
be represented. - Your worship is free to laugh at this, if you think it
a proper subject for mirth; but men are alive who viewed it with their
own eyes, and the event showed too well of what misfortunes this
apparition was the singular prognostication."
"I have heard the story," said the knight; "but the monk who told it me,
suggested that the figure, though unhappily chosen, was perhaps
purposely introduced as a part of the pageant."
"I know not that," said the minstrel, dryly; "but there is no doubt
that shortly after this apparition King Alexander died, to the great
sorrow of his people. The Maid of Norway, his heiress, speedily
followed her grandfather to the grave, and our English king, Sir Knight,
raked up a claim of dependency and homage due, he said, by Scotland,
which neither the lawyers, nobles, priests, nor the very minstrels of
Scotland, had ever before heard of."
"Now, beshrew me," interrupted Sir Aymer de Valence, "this is beyond
bargain. I agreed to hear your tale with patience, but I did not pledge
myself that it should contain matter to the reproach of Edward the
First, of blessed memory; nor will I permit his name to be mentioned in
my hearing without the respect due his high rank and noble qualities."
"Nay," said the minstrel, "I am no highland bagpiper or genealogist, to
carry respect for my art so far as to quarrel with a man of worship who
stops me at the beginning of a pibroch. I am an Englishman, and wish
dearly well to my country; and, above all, I must speak the truth. But
I will avoid disputable topics. Your age, sir, though none of the
ripest, authorizes me to suppose you may have seen the battle of
Falkirk, and other onslaughts in which the competition of Bruce and
Baliol has been fiercely agitated, and you will permit me to say, that
if the Scottish have not had the right upon their side, they have at
least defended the wrong with the efforts of brave men and true."
"Of brave men I grant you," said the knight, "for I have seen no
cowards amongst them; but as for truth, they can best judge of it who
know how often they have sworn faith to England, and how repeatedly
they have broken their vow."
"I shall not stir the question," said the minstrel, "leaving it to your
worship to determine which has most falsehood - he who compels a weaker
person to take an unjust path, or he who, compelled by necessity, takes
the imposed oath without the intention of keeping his word."
"Nay, nay," said De Valence, "let us keep our opinions, for we are not
likely to force each other from the faith we have adopted on this
subject. But take my advice, and whilst thou travellest under an
English pennon, take heed that thou keepest off this conversation in
the hall and kitchen, where perhaps the soldier may be less tolerant
than the officer; and now, in a word, what is thy legend of this
Dangerous Castle?"
"For that," replied Bertram, "methinks your worship is most likely to
have a better edition than I, who have not been in this country for
many years; but it is not for me to bandy opinions with your knightship.
I will even proceed with the tale as I have heard it. I need not, I
presume, inform your worship that the Lords of Douglas, who founded
this castle, are second to no lineage in Scotland in the antiquity of
their descent. Nay, they have themselves boasted that their family is
not to be seen or distinguished, like other great houses, until it is
found at once in a certain degree of eminence. 'You may see us in the
tree,' they say, 'you cannot discover us in the twig; you may see us in
the stream, you cannot trace us to the fountain.' In a word, they deny
that historians or genealogists can point out the first mean man named
Douglas, who originally elevated the family; and true it is, that so