Chapter the Thirty-Eighth.
My native land, good night! BYRON.
Many a bitter tear was shed, during the hasty flight of Queen Mary, overfallen hopes, future prospects, and slaughtered friends. The deaths ofthe brave Douglas, and of the fiery but gallant young Seyton, seemed toaffect the Queen as much as the fall from the throne, on which she hadso nearly been again seated. Catherine Seyton devoured in secret her owngrief, anxious to support the broken spirits of her mistress; and theAbbot, bending his troubled thoughts upon futurity, endeavoured invain to form some plan which had a shadow of hope. The spirit of youngRoland--for he also mingled in the hasty debates held by the companionsof the Queen's flight--continued unchecked and unbroken.
"Your Majesty," he said, "has lost a battle--Your ancestor, Bruce, lostseven successively, ere he sat triumphant on the Scottish throne, andproclaimed with the voice of a victor, in the field of Bannockburn, theindependence of his country. Are not these heaths, which we may traverseat will, better than the locked, guarded, and lake-moated Castle ofLochleven?--We are free--in that one word there is comfort for all ourlosses."
He struck a bold note, but the heart of Mary made no response.
"Better," she said, "I had still been in Lochleven, than seen theslaughter made by rebels among the subjects who offered themselves todeath for my sake. Speak not to me of farther efforts--they would onlycost the lives of you, the friends who recommend them! I would not againundergo what I felt, when I saw from yonder mount the swords of the fellhorsemen of Morton raging among the faithful Seytons and Hamiltons, fortheir loyalty to their Queen--I would not again feel what I felt whenDouglas's life-blood stained my mantle for his love to Mary Stewart--notto be empress of all that Britain's seas enclose. Find for me some placewhere I can hide my unhappy head, which brings destruction on allwho love it--it is the last favour that Mary asks of her faithfulfollowers."
In this dejected mood, but still pursuing her flight with unabatedrapidity, the unfortunate Mary, after having been joined by Lord Herriesand a few followers, at length halted, for the first time, at the Abbeyof Dundrennan, nearly sixty miles distant from the field of battle. Inthis remote quarter of Galloway, the Reformation not having yet beenstrictly enforced against the monks, a few still lingered in theircells unmolested; and the Prior, with tears and reverence, received thefugitive Queen at the gate of his convent.
"I bring you ruin, my good father," said the Queen, as she was liftedfrom her palfrey.
"It is welcome," said the Prior, "if it comes in the train of duty."
Placed on the ground, and supported by her ladies, the Queen looked foran instant at her palfrey, which, jaded and drooping its head, seemed asif it mourned the distresses of its mistress.
"Good Roland," said the Queen, whispering, "let Rosabelle be caredfor--ask thy heart, and it will tell thee why I make this triflingrequest even in this awful hour."
She was conducted to her apartment, and in the hurried consultationof her attendants, the fatal resolution of the retreat to England wasfinally adopted. In the morning it received her approbation, anda messenger was despatched to the English warden, to pray him forsafe-conduct and hospitality, on the part of the Queen of Scotland. Onthe next day the Abbot Ambrose walked in the garden of the Abbey withRoland, to whom he expressed his disapprobation of the course pursued."It is madness and ruin," he said; "better commit herself to the savageHighlanders or wild Bordermen, than to the faith of Elizabeth. A womanto a rival woman--a presumptive successor to the keeping of a jealousand childless Queen!--Roland, Herries is true and loyal, but his counselhas ruined his mistress."
"Ay, ruin follows us every where," said an old man, with a spade inhis hand, and dressed like a lay-brother, of whose presence, in thevehemence of his exclamation, the Abbot had not been aware--"Gaze not onme with such wonder!--I am he who was the Abbot Boniface at Kennaquhair,who was the gardener Blinkhoolie at Lochleven, hunted round to theplace in which I served my noviciate, and now ye are come to rouse meup again!--A weary life I have had for one to whom peace was ever thedearest blessing!"
"We will soon rid you of our company, good father," said the Abbot; "andthe Queen will, I fear, trouble your retreat no more."
"Nay, you said as much before," said the querulous old man, "and yet Iwas put forth from Kinross, and pillaged by troopers on the road.--Theytook from me the certificate that you wot of--that of the Baron--ay,he was a moss-trooper like themselves--You asked me of it, and I couldnever find it, but they found it--it showed the marriage of--of--mymemory fails me--Now see how men differ! Father Nicholas would havetold you an hundred tales of the Abbot Ingelram, on whose soul God havemercy!--He was, I warrant you, fourscore and six, and I am not morethan--let me see----"
"Was not Avenel the name you seek, my good father?" said Roland,impatiently, yet moderating his tone for fear of alarming or offendingthe infirm old man.
"Ay, right--Avenel, Julian Avenel--You are perfect in the name--I keptall the special confessions, judging it held with my vow to do so--Icould not find it when my successor, Ambrosius, spoke on't--but thetroopers found it, and the Knight who commanded the party struck hisbreast, till the target clattered like an empty watering-can."
"Saint Mary!" said the Abbot, "in whom could such a paper excite suchinterest! What was the appearance of the knight, his arms, his colours?"
"Ye distract me with your questions--I dared hardly look at him--theycharged me with bearing letters for the Queen, and searched mymail--This was all along of your doings at Lochleven."
"I trust in God," said the Abbot to Roland, who stood beside him,shivering and trembling "with impatience," the paper has fallen into thehands of my brother--I heard he had been with his followers on the scoutbetwixt Stirling and Glasgow.--Bore not the Knight a holly-bough on hishelmet?--Canst thou not remember?"
"Oh, remember--remember," said the old man pettishly; "count as manyyears as I do, if your plots will let you, and see what, and how much,you remember.--Why, I scarce remember the pear-mains which I graffedhere with my own hands some fifty years since."
At this moment a bugle sounded loudly from the beach.
"It is the death-blast to Queen Mary's royalty," said Ambrosius; "theEnglish warden's answer has been received, favourable doubtless, forwhen was the door of the trap closed against the prey which it was setfor?--Droop not, Roland--this matter shall be sifted to the bottom--butwe must not now leave the Queen--follow me--let us do our duty, andtrust the issue with God--Farewell, good Father--I will visit thee againsoon."
He was about to leave the garden, followed by Roland, withhalf-reluctant steps. The Ex-Abbot resumed his spade.
"I could be sorry for these men," he said, "ay, and for that poor Queen,but what avail earthly sorrows to a man of fourscore?--and it is a raredropping morning for the early colewort."
"He is stricken with age," said Ambrosius, as he dragged Roland downto the sea-beach; "we must let him take his time to collecthimself--nothing now can be thought on but the fate of the Queen."
They soon arrived where she stood, surrounded by her little train,and by her side the sheriff of Cumberland, a gentleman of the house ofLowther, richly dressed and accompanied by soldiers. The aspect of theQueen exhibited a singular mixture of alacrity and reluctance to depart.Her language and gestures spoke hope and consolation to her attendants,and she seemed desirous to persuade even herself that the step sheadopted was secure, and that the assurance she had received of kindreception was altogether satisfactory; but her quivering lip, andunsettled eye, betrayed at once her anguish at departing from Scotland,and her fears of confiding herself to the doubtful faith of England.
"Welcome, my Lord Abbot," she said, speaking to Ambrosius, "and you,Roland Avenel, we have joyful news for you--our loving sister's officerproffers us, in her name, a safe asylum from the rebels who have drivenus from our home--only it grieves me we must here part from you for ashort space."
"Part from us, madam!" said the Abbot. "Is you
r welcome in England,then, to commence with the abridgment of your train, and dismissal ofyour counsellors?"
"Take it not thus, good Father," said Mary; "the Warden and the Sheriff,faithful servants of our Royal Sister, deem it necessary to obey herinstructions in the present case, even to the letter, and can onlytake upon them to admit me with my female attendants. An express willinstantly be despatched from London, assigning me a place of residence;and I will speedily send to all of you whenever my Court shall beformed."
"Your Court formed in England! and while Elizabeth lives and reigns?"said the Abbot--"that will be when we shall see two suns in one heaven!"
"Do not think so," replied the Queen; "we are well assured of oursister's good faith. Elizabeth loves fame--and not all that she has wonby her power and her wisdom will equal that which she will acquire byextending her hospitality to a distressed sister!--not all that she mayhereafter do of good, wise, and great, would blot out the reproach ofabusing our confidence.--Farewell, my page--now my knight--farewell fora brief season. I will dry the tears of Catherine, or I will weep withher till neither of us can weep longer."--She held out her hand toRoland, who flinging himself on his knees, kissed it with much emotion.He was about to render the same homage to Catherine, when the Queen,assuming an air of sprightliness, said, "Her lips, thou foolish boy!and, Catherine, coy it not--these English gentlemen should see,that, even in our cold clime, Beauty knows how to reward Bravery andFidelity!"
"We are not now to learn the force of Scottish beauty, or the mettle ofScottish valour," said the Sheriff of Cumberland, courteously--"I wouldit were in my power to bid these attendants upon her who is herselfthe mistress of Scottish beauty, as welcome to England as my poor careswould make them. But our Queen's orders are positive in case of such anemergence, and they must not be disputed by her subject.--May I remindyour Majesty that the tide ebbs fast?"
The Sheriff took the Queen's hand, and she had already placed her footon the gangway, by which she was to enter the skiff, when the Abbot,starting from a trance of grief and astonishment at the words of theSheriff, rushed into the water, and seized upon her mantle.
"She foresaw it!--She foresaw it!"--he exclaimed--"she foresaw yourflight into her realm; and, foreseeing it, gave orders you should bethus received. Blinded, deceived, doomed--Princess! your fate is sealedwhen you quit this strand.--Queen of Scotland, thou shalt not leavethine heritage!" he continued, holding a still firmer grasp upon hermantle; "true men shall turn rebels to thy will, that they may save theefrom captivity or death. Fear not the bills and bows whom that gay manhas at his beck--we will withstand him by force. Oh, for the arm of mywarlike brother!--Roland Avenel, draw thy sword."
The Queen stood irresolute and frightened; one foot upon the plank, theother on the sand of her native shore, which she was quitting for ever.
"What needs this violence, Sir Priest?" said the Sheriff of Cumberland;"I came hither at your Queen's command, to do her service; and I willdepart at her least order, if she rejects such aid as I can offer. Nomarvel is it if our Queen's wisdom foresaw that such chance as thismight happen amidst the turmoils of your unsettled State; and, whilewilling to afford fair hospitality to her Royal Sister, deemed it wiseto prohibit the entrance of a broken army of her followers into theEnglish frontier."
"You hear," said Queen Mary, gently unloosing her robe from the Abbot'sgrasp, "that we exercise full liberty of choice in leaving this shore;and, questionless, the choice will remain free to us in going to France,or returning to our own dominions, as we shall determine--Besides, it istoo late--Your blessing, Father, and God speed thee!"
"May He have mercy on thee, Princess, and speed thee also!" said theAbbot, retreating. "But my soul tells me I look on thee for the lasttime!" The sails were hoisted, the oars were plied, the vessel wentfreshly on her way through the firth, which divides the shores ofCumberland from those of Galloway; but not till the vessel diminishedto the size of a child's frigate, did the doubtful, and dejected, anddismissed followers of the Queen cease to linger on the sands; andlong, long could they discern the kerchief of Mary, as she waved theoft-repeated signal of adieu to her faithful adherents, and to theshores of Scotland.
If good tidings of a private nature could have consoled Roland forparting with his mistress, and for the distresses of his sovereign,he received such comfort some days subsequent to the Queen's leavingDundrennan. A breathless post--no other than Adam Woodcock--broughtdespatches from Sir Halbert Glendinning to the Abbot, whom he found withRoland, still residing at Dundrennan, and in vain torturing Bonifacewith fresh interrogations. The packet bore an earnest invitation to hisbrother to make Avenel Castle for a time his residence. "The clemency ofthe Regent," said the writer, "has extended pardon both to Roland andto you, upon condition of your remaining a time under my wardship. AndI have that to communicate respecting the parentage of Roland, whichnot only you will willingly listen to, but which will be also found toafford me, as the husband of his nearest relative, some interest in thefuture course of his life."
The Abbot read this letter, and paused, as if considering what were bestfor him to do. Meanwhile, Woodcock took Roland side, and addressed himas follows:--"Now, look, Mr. Roland, that you do not let any papestrienonsense lure either the priest or you from the right quarry. See you,you ever bore yourself as a bit of a gentleman. Read that, and thankGod that threw old Abbot Boniface in our way, as two of the Seyton'smen were conveying him towards Dundrennan here.--We searched him forintelligence concerning that fair exploit of yours at Lochleven, thathas cost many a man his life, and me a set of sore bones--and we foundwhat is better for your purpose than ours."
The paper which he gave, was, indeed, an attestation by Father Philip,subscribing himself unworthy Sacristan, and brother of the House ofSaint Mary's, stating, "that under a vow of secrecy he had united, inthe holy sacrament of marriage, Julian Avenel and Catherine Graeme; butthat Julian having repented of his union, he, Father Philip, had beensinfully prevailed on by him to conceal and disguise the same, accordingto a complot devised betwixt him and the said Julian Avenel, whereby thepoor damsel was induced to believe that the ceremony had been performedby one not in holy orders, and having no authority to that effect. Whichsinful concealment the undersigned conceived to be the cause why he wasabandoned to the misguiding of a water-fiend, whereby he had been undera spell, which obliged him to answer every question, even touching themost solemn matters, with idle snatches of old songs, besides beingsorely afflicted with rheumatic pains ever after. Wherefore he haddeposited this testificate and confession with the day and date of thesaid marriage, with his lawful superior Boniface, Abbot of Saint Mary's,_sub sigillo confessionis_."
It appeared by a letter from Julian, folded carefully up with thecertificate, that the Abbot Boniface had, in effect, bestirred himselfin the affair, and obtained from the Baron a promise to avow hismarriage; but the death of both Julian and his injured bride, togetherwith the Abbot's resignation, his ignorance of the fate of their unhappyoffspring, and above all, the good father's listless and inactivedisposition, had suffered the matter to become totally forgotten, untilit was recalled by some accidental conversation with the Abbot Ambrosiusconcerning the fortunes of the Avenel family. At the request of hissuccessor, the quondam Abbot made search for it; but as he would receiveno assistance in looking among the few records of spiritual experiencesand important confessions, which he had conscientiously treasured,it might have remained for ever hidden amongst them, but for the moreactive researches of Sir Halbert Glendinning.
"So that you are like to be heir of Avenel at last, Master Roland, aftermy lord and lady have gone to their place," said Adam; "and as I havebut one boon to ask, I trust you will not nick me with nay."
"Not if it be in my power to say yes, my trusty friend."
"Why then, I must needs, if I live to see that day, keep on feeding theeyases with unwashed flesh," said Woodcock sturdily, as if doubting thereception that his request might meet with.
"Thou shalt feed th
em with what you list for me," said Roland, laughing;"I am not many months older than when I left the Castle, but I trust Ihave gathered wit enough to cross no man of skill in his own vocation."
"Then I would not change places with the King's falconer," said AdamWoodcock, "nor with the Queen's neither--but they say she will be mewedup and never need one.--I see it grieves you to think of it, and I couldgrieve for company; but what help for it?--Fortune will fly her ownflight, let a man hollo himself hoarse."
The Abbot and Roland journeyed to Avenel, where the former was tenderlyreceived by his brother, while the lady wept for joy to find that in herfavourite orphan she had protected the sole surviving branch of herown family. Sir Halbert Glendinning and his household were not a littlesurprised at the change which a brief acquaintance with the world hadproduced in their former inmate, and rejoiced to find, in the pettish,spoiled, and presuming page, a modest and unassuming young man, toomuch acquainted with his own expectations and character, to be hotor petulant in demanding the consideration which was readily andvoluntarily yielded to him. The old Major Domo Wingate was the firstto sing his praises, to which Mistress Lilias bore a loud echo, alwayshoping that God would teach him the true gospel.
To the true gospel the heart of Roland had secretly long inclined, andthe departure of the good Abbot for France, with the purpose ofentering into some house of his order in that kingdom, removed his chiefobjection to renouncing the Catholic faith. Another might have existedin the duty which he owed to Magdalen Graeme, both by birth and fromgratitude. But he learned, ere he had been long a resident in Avenel,that his grandmother had died at Cologne, in the performance of apenance too severe for her age, which she had taken upon herself inbehalf of the Queen and Church of Scotland, as soon as she heard of thedefeat at Langside. The zeal of the Abbot Ambrosius was more regulated;but he retired into the Scottish convent of------, and so lived there,that the fraternity were inclined to claim for him the honours ofcanonization. But he guessed their purpose, and prayed them, on hisdeath-bed, to do no honours to the body of one as sinful as themselves;but to send his body and his heart to be buried in Avenel burial-aisle,in the monastery of Saint Mary's, that the last Abbot of that celebratedhouse of devotion might sleep among its ruins.
[Footnote: This was not the explanation of the incident of searching forthe heart, mentioned in the introduction to the tale, which the authororiginally intended. It was designed to refer to the heart of RobertBruce. It is generally known that that great monarch, being on hisdeath-bed, bequeathed to the good Lord James of Douglas, the task ofcarrying his heart to the Holy Land, to fulfil in a certain degree hisown desire to perform a crusade. Upon Douglas's death, fighting againstthe Moors in Spain, a sort of military hors d'oeuvre to which he couldhave pleaded no regular call of duty, his followers brought back theBruce's heart, and deposited it in the Abbey church of Melrose, theKennaquhair of the tale.
This Abbey has been always particularly favoured by the Bruce. We havealready seen his extreme anxiety that each of the reverend brethrenshould be daily supplied with a service of boiled almonds, rice andmilk, pease, or the like, to be called the King's mess, and that withoutthe ordinary service of their table being either disturbed in quantityor quality. But this was not the only mark of the benignity of good KingRobert towards the monks of Melrose, since, by a charter of the dale29th May, 1326, he conferred on the Abbot of Melrose the sum of twothousand pounds sterling, for rebuilding: the church of St. Mary's,ruined by the English; and there is little or no doubt that theprincipal part of the remains which now display such exquisite specimensof Gothic architecture, at its very purest period, had their origin inthis munificent donation. The money was to be paid out of crown lands,estates forfeited to the King, and other property or demesnes of thecrown.
A very curious letter written to his son about three weeks before hisdeath, has been pointed out to me by my friend Mr. Thomas Thomson,Deputy-Register for Scotland. It enlarges so much on the love of theroyal writer to the community of Melrose, that it is well worthy ofbeing inserted in a work connected in some degree with Scottish History.
LITERA DOMINI REGIS ROBERTI AD FILIUM SUUM DAVID.
"Robertius dei gratia Rex Scottorum, David precordialissimo filio suo,ac ceteris successoribus suis; Salutem, et sic ejus precepta tenere,ut cum sua benedictione possint regnare. Fili carissime, digne censerividetur filius, qui, paternos in bonis mores imitans, piam ejus nititurexequi voluntatem; nec proprie sibi sumit nomen heredis, qui salubribuspredecessoris affectibus non adherit: Cupientes igitur, ut piamaffectionem et scinceram delectionem, quam erga monasterium de Melros,ubi cor nostrum ex speciali devotione disposuimus tumularidum, et ergaReligiosos ibidem Deo servientes, ipsorum vita sanctissima nos ad hocexcitante, concepimus; Tu ceterique successores mei pia scinceritateprosequarimi, ut, ex vestre dilectionis affectu dictis Religiosis nostricausa post mortem nostrum ostenso, ipsi pro nobis ad orandum ferveuciuset forcius animentur: Vobis precipimus quantum possumus, instantersupplicamus, et ex toto corde injungimus, Quatinus assignacionibus quaseisdem yiris Religiosis et fabrica Ecclesie sue de novo fecimus ac eciamomnibus aliis donacionibus nostris, ipsos libere gaudere permittatis,Easdem potius si necesse fuerit augmentantes quam diminuentes, ipsorumpeticiones auribus benevolis admittentes, ac ipsos contra suosinvasores et emuios pia defensione protegentes. Hanc autem exhortacionemsupplicacionem et preceptum tu, fili ceterique successores nostriprestanti animo complere curetis, si nostram benedictionem haberevelitis, una cum benedictione filii summi Regis, qui filios docuitpatrum voluntates in bono perficere, asserens in mundum se venisse nonut suam voluntatem faceret sed paternam. In testimonium autem nostredevotionis ergra locum predictum sic a nobis dilectum et electumconcepte, presentem literam Religiosis predictis dimittimus, nostrissuccessoribus in posterum ostendendam. Data apud Cardros, undecimo dieMaij, Anno Regni nostri vicesimo quarto."
If this charter be altogether genuine, and there is no appearance offorgery, it gives rise to a curious doubt in Scottish History. Theletter announces that the King had already destined his heart to bedeposited at Melrose. The resolution to send it to Palestine, under thecharge of Douglas, must have been adopted betwixt 11th May 1329, thedate of the letter, and 7th June of the same year, when the Bruce died;or else we must suppose that the commission of Douglas extended not onlyto taking the Bruce's heart to Palestine, but to bring it safe back toits final place of deposit in the Abbey of Melrose.
It would not be worth inquiring: by what caprice the author was inducedto throw the incident of the Bruce's heart entirely out of the story,save merely to say, that he found himself unable to fill up the canvasshe had sketched, and indisposed to prosecute the management ofthe supernatural machinery with which his plan, when it was firstrough-hewn, was connected and combined.]
Long before that period arrived, Roland Avenel was wedded to CatherineSeyton, who, after two years' residence with her unhappy mistress, wasdismissed upon her being subjected to closer restraint than had been atfirst exercised. She returned to her father's house, and as Roland wasacknowledged for the successor and lawful heir of the ancient house ofAvenel, greatly increased as the estate was by the providence of SirHalbert Gleninning, there occurred no objections to the match on thepart of her family. Her mother was recently dead when she first enteredthe convent; and her father, in the unsettled times which followed QueenMary's flight to England, was not averse to an alliance with a youth,who, himself loyal to Queen Mary, still held some influence, throughmeans of Sir Halbert Glendinning, with the party in power.
Roland and Catherine, therefore, were united, spite of their differingfaiths; and the White Lady, whose apparition had been infrequent whenthe house of Avenel seemed verging to extinction, was seen to sport byher haunted well, with a zone of gold around her bosom as broad as thebaldrick of an Earl.
END OF THE ABBOT.
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends
r>