The Monastery

“These,” said the pedlar, “must be the out-scourers of Murray’s party; let us lie down in the peat-hag, and keep ourselves out of sight.”

“And why so?” said Halbert; “let us rather go down and make a signal to them.”

“God forbid!” replied the pedlar; “do you ken so ill the customs of our Scottish nation? That plump of spears that are spurring on so fast are doubtless commanded by some wild kinsman of Morton, or some such daring fear-nothing as neither regards God nor man. It is their business, if they meet with any enemies, to pick quarrels and clear the way of them; and the chief knows nothing of what happens, coming up with his more discreet and moderate friends, it may be a full mile in the rear. Were we to go near these lads of the laird’s belt, your letter would do you little good, and my pack would do me muckle black ill; they would tirl every steek of claithes from our back, fling us into a moss-hag with a stone at our heels, naked as the hour that brought us into this cumbered and sinful world, and neither Murray nor any other man ever the wiser. But if he did come to ken of it, what might he help it? – it would be accounted a mere mistake, and there were all the moan made. O credit me, youth, that when men draw cold steel on each other in their native country, they neither can nor may dwell deeply on the offences of those whose swords are useful to them.”

They suffered, therefore, the vanguard, as it might be termed, of the Earl of Murray’s host to pass forward; and it was not long until a denser cloud of dust began to arise to the northward.

“Now,” said the pedlar, “let us hurry down the hill; for to tell the truth,” said he, dragging Halbert along earnestly, “a Scottish noble’s march is like a serpent – the head is furnished with fangs, and the tail hath its sting; the only harmless point of access is the main body.”

“I will hasten as fast as you,” said the youth; “but tell me why the rearward of such an army should be as dangerous as the van?”

“Because, as the vanguard consists of their picked wild desperates, resolute for mischief, such as neither fear God nor regard their fellow-creatures, but understand themselves bound to hurry from the road whatever is displeasing to themselves, so the rear-guard consists of misproud serving-men, who, being in charge of the baggage, take care to amend by their exactions upon travelling-merchants and others, their own thefts on their master’s property. You will hear the advanced enfans perdus, as the French call them, and so they are indeed, namely, children of the fall, singing unclean and fulsome ballads of sin and harlotrie. And then will come on the middle-ward, when you will hear the canticles and psalms sung by the reforming nobles, and the gentry, and honest and pious clergy, by whom they are accompanied. And last of all, you will find in the rear a legend of godless lackies, palfreniers, and horse-boys, talking of nothing but dicing, drinking, and drabbing.”

As the pedlar spoke, they had reached the side of the high-road, and Murray’s main body was in sight, consisting of about three hundred horse, marching with great regularity, and in a closely compacted body. Some of the troopers wore the liveries of their masters, but this was not common. Most of them were dressed in such colours as chance dictated. But the majority, being clad in blue cloth, and the whole armed with cuirass and back-plate, with sleeves of mail, gauntlets, and poldroons, and either mailed hose or strong jack-boots, they had something of a uniform appearance.

Many of the leaders were clad in complete armour, and all in a certain half-military dress, which no man of quality in those disturbed times ever felt himself sufficiently safe to abandon.

The foremost of this party immediately rode up to the pedlar and to Halbert Glendinning, and demanded of them who they were. The pedlar told his story, the young Glendinning exhibited his letter, which a gentleman carried to Murray. In an instant after, the word “Halt!” was given through the squadron, and at once the onward heavy tramp, which seemed the most distinctive attribute of the body, ceased, and was heard no more. The command was announced that the troop should halt here for an hour to refresh themselves and their horses. The pedlar was assured of safe protection, and accommodated with the use of a baggage horse. But at the same time he was ordered into the rear; a command which he reluctantly obeyed, and not without wringing pathetically the hand of Halbert as he separated from him.

The young heir of Glendearg was in the meanwhile conducted to a plot of ground more raised, and therefore drier than the rest of the moor. Here a carpet was flung on the ground by way of table-cloth, and around it sat the leaders of the party, partaking of an entertainment as coarse, with relation to their rank, as that which Glendinning had so lately shared. Murray himself rose as he came forward, and advanced a step to meet him.

This celebrated person had in his appearance, as well as in his mind, much of the admirable qualities of James V. his father. Had not the stain of illegitimacy rested upon his birth, he would have filled the Scottish throne with as much honour as any of the Stewart race. But History, while she acknowledges his high talents, and much that was princely, nay, royal, in his conduct, cannot forget that ambition led him farther than honour or loyalty warranted. Brave amongst the bravest, fair in presence and in favour, skilful to manage the most intricate affairs, to attach to himself those who were doubtful, to stun and overwhelm, by the suddenness and intrepidity of his enterprises, those who were resolute in resistance, he attained, and as to personal merit certainly deserved, the highest place in the kingdom. But he abused, under the influence of strong temptation, the opportunities which his sister Mary’s misfortunes and imprudence threw in his way; he supplanted his sovereign and benefactress in her power, and his history affords us one of those mixed characters, in which principle was so often sacrificed to policy, that we must condemn the statesman while we pity and regret the individual. Many events in his life gave likelihood to the charge that he himself aimed at the crown; and it is too true, that he countenanced the fatal expedient of establishing an English, that is a foreign and a hostile interest, in the councils of Scotland. But his death may be received as an atonement for his offences, and may serve to show how much more safe is the person of a real patriot, than that of the mere head of a faction, who is accounted answerable for the offences of his meanest attendants.

When Murray approached, the young rustic was naturally abashed at the dignity of his presence. The commanding form and the countenance to which high and important thoughts were familiar, the features which bore the resemblance of Scotland’s long line of kings, were well calculated to impress awe and reverence. His dress had little to distinguish him from the high-born nobles and barons by whom he was attended. A buff-coat, richly embroidered with silken lace, supplied the place of armour; and a massive gold chain, with its medal, hung round his neck. His black velvet bonnet was decorated with a string of large and fair pearls, and with a small tufted feather; a long heavy sword was girt to his side, as the familiar companion of his hand. He wore gilded spurs on his boots, and these completed his equipment.

“This letter,” he said, “is from the godly preacher of the word, Henry Warden, young man? is it not so?” Halbert answered in the affirmative. “And he writes to us, it would seem, in some strait, and refers us to you for the circumstances. Let us know, I pray you, how things stand with him.”

In some perturbation Halbert Glendinning gave an account of the circumstances which had accompanied the preacher’s imprisonment. When he came to the discussion of the handfasting engagement, he was struck with the ominous and displeased expression of Murray’s brows, and, contrary to all prudential and politic rule, seeing something was wrong, yet not well aware what that something was, had almost stopped short in his narrative.

“What ails the fool?” said the Earl, drawing his dark-red eyebrows together, while the same dusky glow kindled on his brow – “Hast thou not learned to tell a true tale without stammering?”

“So please you,” answered Halbert, with considerable address, “I have never before spoken in such a presence.”

“He seems a modest youth,” said Murray, turning to his next attendant, “and yet one who in a good cause will neither fear friend nor foe. – Speak on, friend, and speak freely.”

Halbert then gave an account of the quarrel betwixt Julian Avenel and the preacher, which the Earl, biting his lip the while, compelled himself to listen to as a thing of indifference. At first he appeared even to take the part of the Baron.

“Henry Warden,” he said, “is too hot in his zeal. The law both of God and man maketh allowance for certain alliances, though not strictly formal, and the issue of such may succeed.”

This general declaration he expressed, accompanying it with a glance around upon the few followers who were present at this interview. The most of them answered – “There is no contravening that;” but one or two looked on the ground, and were silent. Murray then turned again to Glendinning, commanding him to say what next chanced, and not to omit any particular. When he mentioned the manner in which Julian had cast from him his concubine, Murray drew a deep breath, set his teeth hard, and laid his hand on the hilt of his dagger. Casting his eyes once more around the circle, which was now augmented by one or two of the reformed preachers, he seemed to devour his rage in silence, and again commanded Halbert to proceed. When he came to describe how Warden had been dragged to a dungeon, the Earl seemed to have found the point at which he might give vent to his own resentment, secure of the sympathy and approbation of all who were present. “Judge you,” he said, looking to those around him, “judge you, my peers, and noble gentlemen of Scotland, betwixt me and this Julian Avenel – he hath broken his own word, and hath violated my safe-conduct – and judge you also, my reverend brethren, he hath put his hand forth upon a preacher of the gospel, and perchance may sell his blood to the worshippers of Anti-Christ!”

“Let him die the death of a traitor,” said the secular chiefs, “and let his tongue be struck through with the hangman’s fiery iron to avenge his perjury!”

“Let him go down to his place with Baal’s priests,” said the preachers, “and be his ashes cast into Tophet!”

Murray heard them with the smile of expected revenge; yet it is probable that the brutal treatment of the female, whose circumstances somewhat resembled those of the Earl’s own mother, had its share in the grim smile which curled his sun-burnt cheek and its haughty lip. To Halbert Glendinning, when his narrative was finished, he spoke with great kindness.

“He is a bold and gallant youth,” said he to those around, “and formed of the stuff which becomes a bustling time. There are periods when men’s spirits shine bravely through them. I will know something more of him.”

He questioned him more particularly concerning the Baron of Avenel’s probable forces – the strength of his castle – the dispositions of his next heir, and this brought necessarily forward the sad history of his brother’s daughter, Mary Avenel, which was told with an embarrassment that did not escape Murray.

“Ha! Julian Avenel,” he said, “and do you provoke my resentment, when you have so much more reason to deprecate my justice! I knew Walter Avenel, a true Scotsman and a good soldier. Our sister, the Queen, must right his daughter; and were her land restored, she would be a fitting bride to some brave man who may better merit our favour than the traitor Julian.” – Then looking at Halbert, he said, “Art thou of gentle blood, young man?”

Halbert, with a faltering and uncertain voice, began to speak of his distant pretensions to claim a descent from the ancient Glendonwynes of Galloway, when Murray interrupted him with a smile.

“Nay – nay – leave pedigrees to bards and heralds. In our days, each, man is the son of his own deeds. The glorious light of reformation hath shone alike on prince and peasant; and peasant as well as prince may be illustrated by fighting in its defence. It is a stirring world, where all may advance themselves who have stout hearts and strong arms. Tell me frankly why thou hast left thy father’s house.”

Halbert Glendinning made a frank confession of his duel with Piercie Shafton, and mentioned his supposed death.

“By my hand,” said Murray, “thou art a bold sparrow-hawk, to match thee so early with such a kite as Piercie Shafton. Queen Elizabeth would give her glove filled with gold crowns to know that meddling coxcomb to be under the sod. – Would she not, Morton?”

“Ay, by my word, and esteem her glove a better gift than the crowns,” replied Morton, “which few Border lads like this fellow will esteem just valuation.”

“But what shall we do with this young homicide?” said Murray; “what will our preachers say?”

“Tell them of Moses and of Benaiah,” said Morton; “it is but the smiting of an Egyptian when all is said out.”

“Let it be so,” said Murray, laughing; “but we will bury the tale, as the prophet did the body, in the sand. I will take care of this swankie. – Be near to us, Glendinning, since that is thy name. We retain thee as a squire of our household. The master of our horse will see thee fully equipped and armed.”

During the expedition which he was now engaged in, Murray found several opportunities of putting Glendinning’s courage and presence of mind to the test, and he began to rise so rapidly in his esteem, that those who knew the Earl considered the youth’s fortune as certain. One step only was wanting to raise him to a still higher degree of confidence and favour – it was the abjuration of the Popish religion. The ministers who attended upon Murray and formed his chief support amongst the people, found an easy convert in Halbert Glendinning, who, from his earliest days, had never felt much devotion towards the Catholic faith, and who listened eagerly to more reasonable views of religion. By thus adopting the faith of his master, he rose higher in his favour, and was constantly about his person during his prolonged stay in the west of Scotland, which the intractability of those whom the Earl had to deal with, protracted from day to day, and week to week.

Chapter the Thirty-Sixth

  Faint the din of battle bray’d    Distant down the hollow wind;  War and terror fled before,    Wounds and death were left behind.PENROSE.

The autumn of the year was well advanced, when the Earl of Morton, one morning, rather unexpectedly, entered the antechamber of Murray, in which Halbert Glendinning was in waiting.

“Call your master, Halbert,” said the Earl; “I have news for him from Teviotdale; and for you too, Glendinning. – News! news! my Lord of Murray!” he exclaimed at the door of the Earl’s bedroom; “come forth instantly.” The Earl appeared, and greeted his ally, demanding eagerly his tidings.

“I have had a sure friend with me from the south,” said Morton; “he has been at Saint Mary’s Monastery, and brings important tidings.” “Of what complexion?” said Murray, “and can you trust the bearer?” “He is faithful, on my life,” said Morton; “I wish all around your Lordship may prove equally so.”

“At what, and whom, do you point?” demanded Murray.

“Here is the Egyptian of trusty Halbert Glendinning, our Southland Moses, come alive again, and flourishing, gay and bright as ever, in that Teviotdale Goshen, the Halidome of Kennaquhair.”

“What mean you, my lord?” said Murray.

“Only that your new henchman has put a false tale upon you. Piercie Shafton is alive and well; by the same token that the gull is thought to be detained there by love to a miller’s daughter, who roamed the country with him in disguise.”

“Glendinning,” said Murray, bending his brow into his darkest frown, “thou hast not, I trust, dared to bring me a lie in thy mouth, in order to win my confidence?”

“My lord,” said Halbert, “I am incapable of a lie. I should choke on one were my life to require that I pronounced it. I say, that this sword of my father was through the body – the point came out behind his back – the hilt pressed upon his breast-bone. And I will plunge it as deep in the body of any one who shall dare to charge me with falsehood.”

“How, fellow!” said Morton, “wouldst thou beard a nobleman?”

“Be silent, Halbert,” said Murray, “and you, my Lord of Morton, forbear him. I see truth written on his brow.”

“I wish the inside of the manuscript may correspond with the superscription,” replied his more suspicious ally. “Look to it, my lord, you will one day lose your life by too much confidence.”

“And you will lose your friends by being too readily suspicious,” answered Murray. “Enough of this – let me hear thy tidings.”

“Sir John Foster,” said Morton, “is about to send a party into Scotland to waste the Halidome.”

“How! without waiting my presence and permission?” said Murray – “he is mad – will he come as an enemy into the Queen’s country?”

“He has Elizabeth’s express orders,” answered Morton, “and they are not to be trifled with. Indeed, his march has been more than once projected and laid aside during the time we have been here, and has caused much alarm at Kennaquhair. Boniface, the old Abbot, has resigned, and whom think you they have chosen in his place?”

“No one surely,” said Murray; “they would presume to hold no election until the Queen’s pleasure and mine were known?”

Morton shrugged his shoulders – “They have chosen the pupil of old Cardinal Beatoun, that wily determined champion of Rome, the bosom-friend of our busy Primate of Saint Andrews. Eustace, late the Sub-Prior of Kennaquhair, is now its Abbot, and, like a second Pope Julius, is levying men and making musters to fight with Foster if he comes forward.”

“We must prevent that meeting,” said Murray, hastily; “whichever party wins the day, it were a fatal encounter for us – Who commands the troop of the Abbot?”

“Our faithful old friend, Julian Avenel, nothing less,” answered Morton.

“Glendinning,” said Murray, “sound trumpets to horse directly, and let all who love us get on horseback without delay – Yes, my lord, this were indeed a fatal dilemma. If we take part with our English friends, the country will cry shame on us – the very old wives will attack us with their rocks and spindles – the very stones of the street will rise up against us – we cannot set our face to such a deed of infamy. And my sister, whose confidence I already have such difficulty in preserving, will altogether withdraw it from me. Then, were we to oppose the English Warden, Elizabeth would call it a protecting of her enemies and what not, and we should lose her.”

“The she-dragon,” said Morton, “is the best card in our pack; and yet I would not willingly stand still and see English blades carve Scots flesh – What say you to loitering by the way, marching far and easy for fear of spoiling our horses? They might then fight dog fight bull, fight Abbot fight archer, and no one could blame us for what chanced when we were not present.”

“All would blame us, James Douglas,” replied Murray; “we should lose both sides – we had better advance with the utmost celerity, and do what we can to keep the peace betwixt them. – I would the nag that brought Piercie Shafton hither had broken his neck over the highest heuch in Northumberland! – He is a proper coxcomb to make all this bustle about, and to occasion perhaps a national war!”

“Had we known in time,” said Douglas, “we might have had him privily waited upon as he entered the Borders; there are strapping lads enough would have rid us of him for the lucre of his spur-whang. {Footnote: Spur-whang– Spur-leather.} But to the saddle, James Stewart, since so the phrase goes. I hear your trumpets. Bound to horse and away – we shall soon see which nag is best breathed.”

Followed by a train of about three hundred well-mounted men-at-arms, these two powerful barons directed their course to Dumfries, and from thence eastward to Teviotdale, marching at a rate which, as Morton had foretold, soon disabled a good many of their horses, so that when they approached the scene of expected action, there were not above two hundred of their train remaining in a body, and of these most were mounted on steeds which had been sorely jaded.

They had hitherto been amused and agitated by various reports concerning the advance of the English soldiers, and the degree of resistance which the Abbot was able to oppose to them. But when they were six or seven miles from Saint Mary’s of Kennaquhair, a gentleman of the country, whom Murray had summoned to attend him, and on whose intelligence he knew he could rely, arrived at the head of two or three servants, “bloody with spurring, fiery red with haste.” According to his report, Sir John Foster, after several times announcing, and as often delaying, his intended incursion, had at last been so stung with the news that Piercie Shafton was openly residing within the Halidome, that he determined to execute the commands of his mistress, which directed him, at every risk, to make himself master of the Euphuist’s person. The Abbot’s unceasing exertions had collected a body of men almost equal in number to those of the English Warden, but less practised in arms. They were united under the command of Julian Avenel, and it was apprehended they would join battle upon the banks of a small stream which forms the verge of the Halidome.

“Who knows the place?” said Murray.

“I do, my lord,” answered Glendinning.

“‘Tis well,” said the Earl; “take a score of the best-mounted horse – make what haste thou canst, and announce to them that I am coming up instantly with a strong power, and will cut to pieces, without mercy, whichever party strikes the first blow. – Davidson,” said he to the gentleman who brought the intelligence, “thou shalt be my guide. – Hie thee on, Glendinning – Say to Foster, I conjure him, as he respects his mistress’s service, that he will leave the matter in my hands. Say to the Abbot, I will burn the Monastery over his head, if he strikes a stroke till I come – Tell the dog, Julian Avenel, that he hath already one deep score to settle with me – I will set his head on the top of the highest pinnacle of Saint Mary’s, if he presume to open another. Make haste, and spare not the spur for fear of spoiling horse-flesh.”

“Your bidding shall be obeyed, my lord,” said Glendinning; and choosing those whose horses were in best plight to be his attendants, he went off as fast as the jaded state of their cavalry permitted. Hill and hollow vanished from under the feet of the chargers.

They had not ridden half the way, when they met stragglers coming off from the field, whose appearance announced that the conflict was begun. Two supported in their arms a third, their elder brother, who was pierced with an arrow through the body. Halbert, who knew them to belong to the Halidome, called them by their names, and questioned them of the state of the affray; but just then, in spite of their efforts to retain him in the saddle, their brother dropped from the horse, and they dismounted in haste to receive his last breath. From men thus engaged, no information was to be obtained. Glendinning, therefore, pushed on with his little troop, the more anxiously, as he perceived other stragglers, bearing Saint Andrew’s cross upon their caps and corslets, flying apparently from the field of battle. Most of these, when they were aware of a body of horsemen approaching on the road, held to the one hand or the other, at such a distance as precluded coming to speech of them. Others, whose fear was more intense, kept the onward road, galloping wildly as fast as their horses could carry them, and when questioned, only glared without reply on those who spoke to them, and rode on without drawing bridle. Several of these were also known to Halbert, who had therefore no doubt, from the circumstances in which he met them, that the men of the Halidome were defeated. He became now unspeakably anxious concerning the fate of his brother, who, he could not doubt, must have been engaged in the affray. He therefore increased the speed of his horse, so that not above five or six of his followers could keep up with him. At length he reached a little hill, at the descent of which, surrounded by a semi-circular sweep of a small stream, lay the plain which had been the scene of the skirmish.