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Books: The Monastery

S >> Sir Walter Scott >> The Monastery




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.

It was a melancholy spectacle. War and terror, to use the expression
of the poet, had rushed on to the field, and left only wounds and
death behind them. The battle had been stoutly contested, as was
almost always the case with these Border skirmishes, where ancient
hatred, and mutual injuries, made men stubborn in maintaining the
cause of their conflict. Towards the middle of the plain, there lay
the bodies of several men who had fallen in the very act of grappling
with the enemy; and there were seen countenances which still bore the
stern expression of unextinguishable hate and defiance, hands which
clasped the hilt of the broken falchion, or strove in vain to pluck
the deadly arrow from the wound. Some were wounded, and, cowed of the
courage they had lately shown, were begging aid, and craving water, in
a tone of melancholy depression, while others tried to teach the
faltering tongue to pronounce some half-forgotten prayer, which, even
when first learned, they had but half understood. Halbert, uncertain
what course he was next to pursue, rode through the plain to see if,
among the dead or wounded, he could discover any traces of his brother
Edward. He experienced no interruption from the English. A distant
cloud of dust announced that they were still pursuing the scattered
fugitives, and he guessed, that to approach them with his followers,
until they were again under some command, would be to throw away his
own life, and that of his men, whom the victors would instantly
confound with the Scots, against whom they had been successful. He
resolved, therefore, to pause until Murray came up with his forces, to
which he was the more readily moved, as he heard the trumpets of the
English Warden sounding the retreat, and recalling from the pursuit.
He drew his men together, and made a stand in an advantageous spot of
ground, which had been occupied by the Scots in the beginning of the
action, and most fiercely disputed while the skirmish lasted.

While he stood here, Halbert's ear was assailed by the feeble moan of
a woman, which he had not expected to hear amid that scene, until the
retreat of the foes had permitted the relations of the slain to
approach, for the purpose of paying them the last duties. He looked
with anxiety, and at length observed, that by the body of a knignt in
bright armour, whose crest, though soiled and broken, still showed the
marks of rank and birth, there sat a female wrapped in a horseman's
cloak, and holding something pressed against her bosom, which he soon
discovered to be a child. He glanced towards the English. They
advanced not, and the continued and prolonged sound of their trumpets,
with the shouts of the leaders, announced that their powers would not
be instantly re-assembled. He had, therefore, a moment to look after
this unfortunate woman. He gave his horse to a spearman as he
dismounted, and, approaching the unhappy female, asked her, in the
most soothing tone he could assume, whether he could assist her in her
distress. The mourner made him no direct answer; but endeavouring,
with a trembling and unskilful hand, to undo the springs of the visor
and gorget, said, in a tone of impatient grief, "Oh, he would recover
instantly could I but give him air--land and living, life and honour,
would I give for the power of undoing these cruel iron platings that
suffocate him!" He that would soothe sorrow must not argue on the
vanity of the most deceitful hopes. The body lay as that of one whose
last draught of vital air had been drawn, and who must never more have
concern with the nether sky. But Halbert Glendinning failed not to
raise the visor and cast loose the gorget, when, to his great
surprise, he recognized the pale face of Julian Avenel. His last fight
was over, the fierce and turbid spirit had departed in the strife in
which it had so long delighted.

"Alas! he is gone," said Halbert, speaking to the young woman, in whom
he had now no difficulty of knowing the unhappy Catherine.

"Oh, no, no, no!" she reiterated, "do not say so--he is not dead--he
is but in a swoon. I have lain as long in one myself--and then his
voice would arouse me, when he spoke kindly, and said, Catherine, look
up for my sake--And look up, Julian, for mine!" she said, addressing
the senseless corpse; "I know you do but counterfeit to frighten me,
but I am not frightened," she added, with an hysterical attempt to
laugh; and then instantly changing her tone, entreated him to "speak,
were it but to curse my folly. Oh, the rudest word you ever said to
me would now sound like the dearest you wasted on me before I gave you
all. Lift him up," she said, "lift him up, for God's sake!--have you
no compassion? He promised to wed me if I bore him a boy, and this
child is so like to its father!--How shall he keep his word, if you do
not help me to awaken him?--Christie of the Clinthill, Rowley,
Hutcheon! ye were constant at his feast, but ye fled from him at the
fray, false villains as ye are!"

"Not I, by Heaven!" said a dying man, who made some shift to raise
himself on his elbow, and discovered to Halbert the well-known
features of Christie; "I fled not a foot, and a man can but fight
while his breath lasts--mine is going fast.--So, youngster," said he,
looking at Glendinning, and seeing his military dress, "thou hast
ta'en the basnet at last? it is a better cap to live in than die in. I
would chance had sent thy brother here instead--there was good in
him--but thou art as wild, and wilt soon be as wicked as myself."

"God forbid!" said Halbert, hastily.

"Marry, and amen, with all my heart," said the wounded man, "there
will be company enow without thee where I am going. But God be praised
I had no hand in that wickedness," said he, looking to poor Catherine;
and with some exclamation in his mouth, that sounded betwixt a prayer
and a curse, the soul of Christie of the Clinthill took wing to the
last account.

Deeply wrapt in the painful interest which these shocking events had
excited, Glendinning forgot for a moment his own situation and duties,
and was first recalled to them by a trampling of horse, and the cry of
Saint George for England, which the English soldiers still continued
to use. His handful of men, for most of the stragglers had waited for
Murray's coming up, remained on horseback, holding their lances
upright, having no command either to submit or resist.

"There stands our Captain," said one of them, as a strong party of
English came up, the vanguard of Foster's troop.

"Your Captain! with his sword sheathed, and on foot in the presence of
his enemy? a raw soldier, I warrant him," said the English leader.
"So! ho! young man, is your dream out, and will you now answer me if
you will fight or fly?"

"Neither," answered Halbert Glendinning, with great tranquillity.

"Then throw down thy sword and yield thee," answered the Englishman.

"Not till I can help myself no otherwise," said Halbert, with the same
moderation of tone and manner.

"Art thou for thine own hand, friend, or to whom dost thou owe
service?" demanded the English Captain.

"To the noble Earl of Murray."

"Then thou servest," said the Southron, "the most disloyal nobleman
who breathes--false both to England and Scotland."

"Thou liest," said Glendinning, regardless of all consequences.

"Ha! art thou so hot how, and wert so cold but a minute since? I lie,
do I? Wilt thou do battle with me on that quarrel?"

"With one to one--one to two--or two to five, as you list," said
Halbert Glendinning; "grant me but a fair field."

"That thou shalt have.--Stand back, my mates," said the brave
Englishman. "If I fall, give him fair play, and let him go off free
with his people."

"Long life to the noble Captain!" cried the soldiers, as impatient to
see the duel, as if it had been a bull-baiting.

"He will have a short life of it, though," said the sergeant, "if he,
an old man of sixty, is to fight, for any reason, or for no reason,
with every man he meets, and especially the young fellows he might be
father to.--And here comes the Warden besides to see the sword-play."