CHAPTER VII.

  This quarrel may draw blood another day.

  Henry IV. Part I.

  The conclave of citizens appointed to meet for investigating the affrayof the preceding evening had now assembled. The workroom of Simon Gloverwas filled to crowding by personages of no little consequence, some ofwhom wore black velvet cloaks, and gold chains around their necks.They were, indeed, the fathers of the city; and there were bailies anddeacons in the honoured number. There was an ireful and offended air ofimportance upon every brow as they conversed together, rather in whisperthan aloud or in detail. Busiest among the busy, the little importantassistant of the previous night, Oliver Proudfute by name, and bonnetmaker by profession, was bustling among the crowd, much after themanner of the seagull, which flutters, screams, and sputters most at thecommencement of a gale of wind, though one can hardly conceive what thebird has better to do than to fly to its nest and remain quiet till thegale 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 moreclosely and mysteriously utter his sentiments; and standing on tiptoe,and supporting himself by the cloak collars of tall men, that he mightdole out to them also the same share of information. He felt himself oneof the heroes of the affair, being conscious of the dignity of superiorinformation on the subject as an eyewitness, and much disposed to pushhis connexion with the scuffle a few points beyond the modesty of truth.It cannot be said that his communications were in especial curious andimportant, consisting chiefly of such assertions as these:

  "It is all true, by St. John! I was there and saw it myself--was thefirst to run to the fray; and if it had not been for me and anotherstout fellow, who came in about the same time, they had broken intoSimon Glover's house, cut his throat, and carried his daughter offto the mountains. It is too evil usage--not to be suffered, neighbourCrookshank; not to be endured, neighbour Glass; not to be borne,neighbours Balneaves, Rollock, and Chrysteson. It was a mercy that Iand that stout fellow came in, was it not, neighbour and worthy BailieCraigdallie?"

  These speeches were dispersed by the busy bonnet maker into sundry ears.Bailie Craigdallie, a portly guild brother, the same who had advised theprorogation of their civic council to the present place and hour, a big,burly, good looking man, shook the deacon from his cloak with prettymuch the grace with which a large horse shrugs off the importunatefly that has beset him for ten minutes, and exclaimed, "Silence, goodcitizens; here comes Simon Glover, in whom no man ever saw falsehood. Wewill hear the outrage from his own mouth."

  Simon being called upon to tell his tale, did so with obviousembarrassment, which he imputed to a reluctance that the burgh shouldbe put in deadly feud with any one upon his account. It was, he dared tosay, 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 ironstanchions on his daughter's window, in case of such another frolic.

  "Why, then, if this was a mere masking or mummery," said Craigdallie,"our townsman, Harry of the Wind, did far wrong to cut off a gentleman'shand for such a harmless pleasantry, and the town may be brought to aheavy fine for it, unless we secure the person of the mutilator."

  "Our Lady forbid!" said the glover. "Did you know what I do, you wouldbe as much afraid of handling this matter as if it were glowing iron.But, since you will needs put your fingers in the fire, truth must bespoken. And come what will, I must say, that the matter might have endedill for me and mine, but for the opportune assistance of Henry Gow, thearmourer, well known to you all."

  "And mine also was not awanting," said Oliver Proudfute, "though I donot profess to be utterly so good a swordsman as our neighbour HenryGow. You saw me, neighbour Glover, at the beginning of the fray?"

  "I saw you after the end of it, neighbour," answered the glover, drily.

  "True--true; I had forgot you were in your house while the blows weregoing, and could not survey who were dealing them."

  "Peace, neighbour Proudfute--I prithee, peace," said Craigdallie, whowas obviously tired of the tuneless screeching of the worthy deacon.

  "There is something mysterious here," said the bailie; "but I think Ispy the secret. Our friend Simon is, as you all know, a peaceful man,and one that will rather sit down with wrong than put a friend, or say aneighbourhood, in danger to seek his redress. Thou, Henry, who art neverwanting where the burgh needs a defender, tell us what thou knowest ofthis matter."

  Our smith told his story to the same purpose which we have alreadyrelated; and the meddling maker of bonnets added as before, "And thousawest me there, honest smith, didst thou not?"

  "Not I, in good faith, neighbour," answered Henry; "but you are a littleman, you know, and I might overlook you."

  This reply produced a laugh at Oliver's expense, who laughed forcompany, but added doggedly, "I was one of the foremost to the rescuefor all that."

  "Why, where wert thou, then, neighbour?" said the smith; "for I saw younot, and I would have given the worth of the best suit of armour I everwrought to have seen as stout a fellow as thou at my elbow."

  "I was no farther off, however, honest smith; and whilst thou wertlaying on blows as if on an anvil, I was parrying those that the rest ofthe villains aimed at thee behind thy back; and that is the cause thousawest me not."

  "I have heard of smiths of old time who had but one eye," said Henry; "Ihave two, but they are both set in my forehead, and so I could not seebehind my back, neighbour."

  "The truth is, however," persevered Master Oliver, "there I was, and Iwill give Master Bailie my account of the matter; for the smith and Iwere first up to the fray."

  "Enough at present," said the bailie, waving to Master Proudfute aninjunction of silence. "The precognition of Simon Glover and Henry Gowwould bear out a matter less worthy of belief. And now, my masters,your opinion what should be done. Here are all our burgher rights brokenthrough and insulted, and you may well fancy that it is by some man ofpower, since no less dared have attempted such an outrage. My masters,it is hard on flesh and blood to submit to this. The laws have framed usof lower rank than the princes and nobles, yet it is against reason tosuppose that we will suffer our houses to be broken into, and the honourof 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 ominouscountenance. "I hope still that all was not meant so ill as it seemedto us, my worthy neighbours; and I for one would cheerfully forgive thealarm and disturbance to my poor house, providing the Fair City were notbrought into jeopardy for me. I beseech you to consider who are to beour judges that are to hear the case, and give or refuse redress. Ispeak among neighbours and friends, and therefore I speak openly. TheKing, God bless him! is so broken in mind and body, that he will butturn us over to some great man amongst his counsellors who shall be infavour for the time. Perchance he will refer us to his brother the Dukeof Albany, who will make our petition for righting of our wrongs thepretence for squeezing money out of us."

  "We will none of Albany for our judge!" answered the meeting with thesame unanimity as before.

  "Or perhaps," added Simon, "he will bid the Duke of Rothsay take chargeof it; and the wild young prince will regard the outrage as somethingfor his gay companions to scoff at, and his minstrels to turn intosong."

  "Away with Rothsay! he is too gay to be our judge," again exclaimed thecitizens.

  Simon, emboldened by seeing he was reaching the point he aimed at, yetpronouncing the dreaded name with a half whisper, next added, "Would youlike the Black Douglas better to deal with?"

  There was no answer for a minute. They looked on each other with fallencountenances and blanched lips.

  But Henry Smith spoke out boldly, and in a decided voice, the sentimentswhich all felt, but none else dared give words to: "The Black Douglas tojudge betwixt a burgher and
a gentleman, nay, a nobleman, for all I knowor care! The black devil of hell sooner! You are mad, father Simon, somuch as to name so wild a proposal."

  There was again a silence of fear and uncertainty, which was at lengthbroken by Bailie Craigdallie, who, looking very significantly to thespeaker, replied, "You are confident in a stout doublet, neighbourSmith, or you would not talk so boldly."

  "I am confident of a good heart under my doublet, such as it is,bailie," answered the undaunted Henry; "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," reiteratedthe bailie in the same significant tone. "There are Border men in thetown who wear the bloody heart on their shoulder. But all this is norede. What shall we do?"

  "Short rede, good rede," said the smith. "Let us to our provost, anddemand his countenance and assistance."

  A murmur of applause went through the party, and Oliver Proudfuteexclaimed, "That is what I have been saying for this half hour, and notone of ye would listen to me. 'Let us go to our provost,' said I. 'He isa gentleman himself, and ought to come between the burgh and the noblesin all matters."

  "Hush, neighbours--hush; be wary what you say or do," said a thin meagrefigure of a man, whose diminutive person seemed still more reduced insize, and more assimilated to a shadow, by his efforts to assume anextreme degree of humility, and make himself, to suit his argument, lookmeaner yet, and yet more insignificant, than nature had made him.

  "Pardon me," said he; "I am but a poor pottingar. Nevertheless, I havebeen bred in Paris, and learned my humanities and my cursus medendi aswell as some that call themselves learned leeches. Methinks I can tentthis wound, and treat it with emollients. Here is our friend SimonGlover, who is, as you all know, a man of worship. Think you he wouldnot be the most willing of us all to pursue harsh courses here, sincehis family honour is so nearly concerned? And since he blenches awayfrom the charge against these same revellers, consider if he may nothave some good reason more than he cares to utter for letting the mattersleep. It is not for me to put my finger on the sore; but, alack! we allknow that young maidens are what I call fugitive essences. Suppose now,an honest maiden--I mean in all innocence--leaves her window unlatchedon St. Valentine's morn, that some gallant cavalier may--in all honesty,I mean--become her Valentine for the season, and suppose the gallantbe 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 amatter to place the town in feud for?"

  The pottingar delivered his opinion in a most insinuating manner; buthe seemed to shrink into something less than his natural tenuity when hesaw the blood rise in the old cheek of Simon Glover, and inflame to thetemples the complexion of the redoubted smith.

  The last, stepping forward, and turning a stern look on the alarmedpottingar, broke out as follows: "Thou walking skeleton! thou asthmaticgallipot! thou poisoner by profession! if I thought that the puff ofvile breath thou hast left could blight for the tenth part of a minutethe fair fame of Catharine Glover, I would pound thee, quacksalver!in thine own mortar, and beat up thy wretched carrion with flower ofbrimstone, the only real medicine in thy booth, to make a salve to rubmangy 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 BailieCraigdallie, since such is the construction that is put upon mypatience, I am willing to pursue this riot to the uttermost; and thoughthe issue may prove that we had better have been patient, you willall see that my Catharine hath not by any lightness or folly of hersafforded grounds for this great scandal."

  The bailie also interposed. "Neighbour Henry," said he, "we came here toconsult, and not to quarrel. As one of the fathers of the Fair City, Icommand thee to forego all evil will and maltalent you may have againstMaster Pottingar Dwining."

  "He is too poor a creature, bailie," said Henry Gow, "for me to harbourfeud with--I that could destroy him and his booth with one blow of myforehammer."

  "Peace, then, and hear me," said the official. "We all are as muchbelievers in the honour of the Fair Maiden of Perth as in that of ourBlessed Lady." Here he crossed himself devoutly. "But touching ourappeal to our provost, are you agreed, neighbours, to put matter likethis into our provost's hand, being against a powerful noble, as is tobe feared?"

  "The provost being himself a nobleman," squeaked the pottingar, in somemeasure released from his terror by the intervention of the bailie."God knows, I speak not to the disparagement of an honourable gentleman,whose forebears have held the office he now holds for many years--"

  "By free choice of the citizens of Perth," said the smith, interruptingthe speaker with the tones of his deep and decisive voice.

  "Ay, surely," said the disconcerted orator, "by the voice of thecitizens. How else? I pray you, friend Smith, interrupt me not. I speakto our worthy and eldest bailie, Craigdallie, according to my poormind. I say that, come amongst us how he will, still this Sir PatrickCharteris is a nobleman, and hawks will not pick hawks' eyes out. He maywell bear us out in a feud with the Highlandmen, and do the part of ourprovost and leader against them; but whether he that himself wears silkwill take our part against broidered cloak and cloth of gold, thoughhe may do so against tartan and Irish frieze, is something to bequestioned. Take a fool's advice. We have saved our Maiden, of whomI never meant to speak harm, as truly I knew none. They have lost oneman'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, whocontested no man's claim to glory provided he was not himself compelledto tread the perilous paths which lead to it. "I say, neighbours, sincethey have left a hand as a pledge they will never come in CouvrefewStreet again, why, in my simple mind, we were best to thank our stouttownsman, and the town having the honour and these rakehells 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 ofacquiescence, with whom, notwithstanding 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 up the speech in his usualdownright manner.

  "I am neither the oldest nor the richest among you, neighbours, and I amnot sorry for it. Years will come, if one lives to see them; and I canwin and spend my penny like another, by the blaze of the furnace and thewind of the bellows. But no man ever saw me sit down with wrong donein word or deed to our fair town, if man's tongue and man's hand couldright 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 aknight, it is true, and a gentleman of free and true born blood, as weall know, since Wallace's time, who settled his great grandsire amongstus. But if he were the proudest nobleman in the land, he is the Provostof Perth, and for his own honour must see the freedoms and immunities ofthe burgh preserved--ay, and I know he will. I have made a steel doubletfor him, and have a good guess at the kind of heart that it was meant tocover."

  "Surely," said Bailie Craigdallie, "it would be to no purpose to stirat court without Sir Patrick Charteris's countenance: the ready answerwould be, 'Go to your provost, you borrel loons.' So, neighbours andtownsmen, if you will stand by my side, I and our pottingar Dwiningwill repair presently to Kinfauns, with Sim Glover, the jolly smith, andgallant Oliver Proudfute, for witnesses to the onslaught, and speak withSir Patrick Charteris, 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, neighbour, you must go," said Bailie Craigdallie."The town hold me a hot headed carle for a man of threescore; Sim Gloveris the offended party; we all know that Harry Gow spoils more harnesswith his sword than he makes with his hammer and our neighbourProu
dfute, who, take his own word, is at the beginning and end of everyfray in Perth, is of course a man of action. We must have at least oneadvocate amongst us for peace and quietness; and thou, pottingar, mustbe the man. Away with you, sirs, get your boots and your beasts--horseand hattock, I say, and let us meet at the East Port; that is, if it isyour pleasure, neighbours, to trust us with the matter."

  "There can be no better rede, and we will all avouch it," said thecitizens. "If the provost take our part, as the Fair Town hath a rightto expect, we may bell the cat with the best of them."

  "It is well, then, neighbours," answered the bailie; "so said, so shallbe done. Meanwhile, I have called the whole town council together aboutthis hour, and I have little doubt," looking around the company, "that,as so many of them who are in this place have resolved to consult withour 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 privycouncil, or Lords of the Articles; and they dispersed, the deputation toprepare for the journey, and the rest to tell their impatient wives anddaughters of the measures they had taken to render their chambers safein future against the intrusion of gallants at unseasonable hours.

  While nags are saddling, and the town council debating, or ratherputting in form what the leading members of their body had alreadyadopted, it may be necessary, for the information of some readers,to state in distinct terms what is more circuitously intimated in thecourse of the former discussion.

  It was the custom at this period, when the strength of the feudalaristocracy controlled the rights, and frequently insulted theprivileges, of the royal burghs of Scotland, that the latter, where itwas practicable, often chose their provost, or chief magistrate, not outof the order of the merchants, shopkeepers, and citizens, who inhabitedthe town itself, and filled up the roll of the ordinary magistracy, butelected to that preeminent state some powerful nobleman, or baron, inthe neighbourhood of the burgh, who was expected to stand their friendat court in such matters as concerned their common weal, and to leadtheir civil militia to fight, whether in general battle or in privatefeud, reinforcing them with his own feudal retainers. This protectionwas not always gratuitous. The provosts sometimes availed themselves oftheir situation to an unjustifiable degree, and obtained grants of landsand tenements belonging to the common good, or public property of theburgh, and thus made the citizens pay dear for the countenance whichthey afforded. Others were satisfied to receive the powerful aid of thetownsmen in their own feudal quarrels, with such other marks of respectand benevolence as the burgh over which they presided were willing togratify them with, in order to secure their active services in case ofnecessity. The baron, who was the regular protector of a royal burgh,accepted such freewill offerings without scruple, and repaid them bydefending the rights of the town by arguments in the council and by bolddeeds in the field.

  The citizens of the town, or, as they loved better to call it, theFair City, of Perth, had for several generations found a protectorand provost of this kind in the knightly family of Charteris, Lords ofKinfauns, in the neighbourhood of the burgh. It was scarce a century (inthe time of Robert III) since the first of this distinguished familyhad settled in the strong castle which now belonged to them, with thepicturesque and fertile scenes adjoining to it. But the history of thefirst settler, chivalrous and romantic in itself, was calculated tofacilitate the settlement of an alien in the land in which his lot wascast. 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 it 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 hisnative country, he is said to have undertaken a voyage to France, witha small band of trusty friends, to try what his presence (for he wasrespected through all countries for his prowess) might do to induce theFrench monarch to send to Scotland a body of auxiliary forces, or otherassistance, to aid the Scots in regaining their independence.

  The Scottish Champion was on board a small vessel, and steering for theport of Dieppe, when a sail appeared in the distance, which the marinersregarded, first with doubt and apprehension, and at last with confusionand dismay. Wallace demanded to know what was the cause of their alarm.The captain of the ship informed him that the tall vessel which wasbearing down, with the purpose of boarding that which he commanded, wasthe ship of a celebrated rover, equally famed for his courage, strengthof body, and successful piracies. It was commanded by a gentleman namedThomas de Longueville, a Frenchman by birth, but by practice one ofthose pirates who called themselves friends to the sea and enemies toall who sailed upon that element. He attacked and plundered vesselsof all nations, like one of the ancient Norse sea kings, as they weretermed, whose dominion was upon the mountain waves. The master addedthat no vessel could escape the rover by flight, so speedy was the barkhe 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 thehead of his followers.

  Wallace smiled sternly, while the master of the ship, with alarm in hiscountenance and tears in his eyes, described to him the certainty oftheir being captured by the Red Rover, a name given to De Longueville,because he usually displayed the blood red flag, which he had nowhoisted.

  "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 battlewas 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 themariners below, excepting such as were absolutely necessary to managethe vessel; and he gave the master instructions, upon pain of death, soto steer as that, while the vessel had an appearance of attempting tofly, he should in fact permit the Red Rover to come up with them and dohis worst. Wallace himself then lay down on the deck, that nothing mightbe seen which could intimate any purpose of resistance. In a quarter ofan hour De Longueville's vessel ran on board that of the Champion, andthe Red Rover, casting out grappling irons to make sure of his prize,jumped on the deck in complete armour, followed by his men, who gave aterrible shout, as if victory had been already secured. But the armedScots started up at once, and the rover found himself unexpectedlyengaged with men accustomed to consider victory as secure when theywere only opposed as one to two or three. Wallace himself rushed on thepirate captain, and a dreadful strife began betwixt them with such furythat the others suspended their own battle to look on, and seemed bycommon consent to refer the issue of the strife to the fate of thecombat between the two chiefs. The pirate fought as well as man coulddo; but Wallace's strength was beyond that of ordinary mortals. Hedashed the sword from the rover's hand, and placed him in such perilthat, to avoid being cut down, he was fain to close with the ScottishChampion in hopes of overpowering him in the grapple. In this also hewas foiled. They fell on the deck, locked in each other's arms, but theFrenchman fell undermost; and Wallace, fixing his grasp upon his gorget,compressed it so closely, notwithstanding it was made of the fineststeel, that the blood gushed from his eyes, nose, and month, and he wasonly able to ask for quarter by signs. His men threw down their weaponsand begged for mercy when they saw their leader thus severely handled.The victor granted them all their lives, but took possession of theirvessel, and detained them prisoners.

  When he came in sight of the French harbour, Wallace alarmed the placeby displaying the rover's colours, as if De Longueville was coming topillage the town. The bells were rung backward, horns were blown, andthe citizens were hurrying to arms, when the scene changed. The ScottishLion on his shield of gold was raised above the piratical flag, andannounced that the Champion of Scotland was approaching, like a falconwith his prey in his clutch. He landed
with his prisoner, and carriedhim to the court of France, where, at Wallace's request, the robberieswhich the pirate had committed were forgiven, and the king evenconferred the honour of knighthood on Sir Thomas de Longueville, andoffered to take him into his service. But the rover had contracted sucha friendship for his generous victor, that he insisted on uniting hisfortunes with those of Wallace, with whom he returned to Scotland, andfought by his side in many a bloody battle, where the prowess of SirThomas de Longueville was remarked as inferior to that of none, save ofhis heroic conqueror. His fate also was more fortunate than that of hispatron. Being distinguished by the beauty as well as strength of hisperson, he rendered himself so acceptable to a young lady, heiress ofthe ancient family of Charteris, that she chose him for her husband,bestowing on him with her hand the fair baronial Castle of Kinfauns, andthe domains annexed to it. Their descendants took the name of Charteris,as connecting themselves with their maternal ancestors, the ancientproprietors of the property, though the name of Thomas de Longuevillewas equally honoured amongst them; and the large two handed sword withwhich he mowed the ranks of war was, and is still, preserved amongthe family muniments. Another account is, that the family name of DeLongueville himself was Charteris. The estate afterwards passed to afamily of Blairs, and is now the property of Lord Gray.

  These barons of Kinfauns, from father to son, held, for severalgenerations, the office of Provost of Perth, the vicinity of the castleand town rendering it a very convenient arrangement for mutual support.The Sir Patrick of this history had more than once led out the men ofPerth to battles and skirmishes with the restless Highland depredators,and with other enemies, foreign and domestic. True it is, heused sometimes to be weary of the slight and frivolous complaintsunnecessarily brought before him, and in which he was requested tointerest himself. Hence he had sometimes incurred the charge of beingtoo proud as a nobleman, or too indolent as a man of wealth, and one whowas too much addicted to the pleasures of the field and the exercise offeudal hospitality, to bestir himself upon all and every occasionwhen the Fair Town would have desired his active interference. But,notwithstanding that this occasioned some slight murmuring, thecitizens, upon any serious cause of alarm, were wont to rally aroundtheir provost, and were warmly supported by him both in council andaction.