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 THE 
 
 BROWNIE OF BODSBECK; 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER TALES. 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES HOGG, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " THE QUEEN'S AVAKE," &c. &c. 
 
 '' What, has this thing appeared again to-night ?" 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 EDINBURGH ; 
 
 PRINTED FOR WILLIAM BLACKWOOD, PRINCE'S-STREET 
 
 AND 
 
 JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE-STREET, LONDON. 
 
 1818.
 
 
 > 
 
 ^ TO 
 
 U>l 
 
 t 
 
 THE RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 ^ LADY ANNE SCOTT, 
 
 OF BUCCLEUCH. 
 
 To HeR;, whose bounty oft hath shed 
 Joy round the peasant's lowly bed. 
 When trouble press'd and friends were few, 
 ^ And God and Angels only knew — 
 25. To Her, who loves the board to cheer, 
 I And hearth of simple Cottager ; 
 ^ Who loves the tale of rural kind, 
 y^ And wayward visions of his mind, 
 •" I dedicate, with high delight, 
 >^ The themes of many a winter night. 
 
 ^ What other name on Yarrow's vale 
 ^ ' Can Shepherd choose to grace his tale ?
 
 u 
 
 There other living name is none 
 
 Heard with one feeling, — one alone. 
 
 Some heavenly charm must name endear 
 
 That all men love, and all revere ! 
 
 Even the rude boy of rustic form. 
 
 And robes all fluttering to the storm,, 
 
 Whose roguish lip and graceless eye 
 
 Inclines to mock the passer by. 
 
 Walks by the Maid with softer tread. 
 
 And lowly bends his burly head. 
 
 Following with eye of milder ray 
 
 The gentle form that glides away. 
 
 The little school-nymph, drawing near. 
 
 Says, with a sly and courteous leer. 
 
 As plain as eye and manner can, 
 
 " Thou lov'st me — bless thee. Lady Anne !' 
 
 Even babes catch the beloved theme. 
 
 And learn to lisp their Lady's name. 
 
 The orphan's blessing rests on thee ; 
 Happy thou art, and long shalt be !
 
 ux 
 
 'Tis not in sorrow, nor distress. 
 Nor Fortune's power, to make tliee less. 
 The heart, unaltered in its mood, 
 Tliat joys alone in doing good. 
 And follows in the heavenly road. 
 And steps where once an Angel trode, — 
 The joys within such heart that bvim. 
 No loss can quench, nor time o'erturn ! 
 The stars may from their orbits bend. 
 The mountains rock, the heavens rend,— . 
 The sun's last ember cool and quiver. 
 But these shall glow, and glow for ever ! 
 
 Then thou, who lov'st the shepherd's home. 
 And cherishest his lowly dome, 
 
 list the mystic lore sublime. 
 Of fairy tales of ancient time. 
 
 1 learned them in the lonely glen. 
 The last abodes of living men ; 
 Where never stranger came our way 
 By summer night, or winter day ;
 
 IV 
 
 Wher^ neighbouring hind or cot was none. 
 Our converse was with Heaven alone, 
 With voices through the cloud that sung. 
 And brooding storms that round us hung. 
 
 O Lady, judge, if judge you may. 
 How stern and ample was the sway 
 Of themes like these, when darkness fell. 
 And gray-hair'd sires the tales would tell ! 
 When doors were barr'd, and eldron dame 
 Plied at her task beside the flame. 
 That through the smoke and gloom alone 
 On dim and umber'd faces shone— 
 The bleat of mountain goat on high. 
 That from the cliff came quavering by ; 
 The echoing rock, the rushing flood. 
 The cataract's swell, the moaning wood. 
 That undefined and mingled hum — 
 Voice of the desart, never dumb ! — 
 All these have left within this heart 
 A feeling tongue can ne'er impart ;
 
 A wilder'd and unearthly flame, 
 A something that's without a name. 
 
 And, Lady, thou wilt never deem 
 Religious tale offensive theme ; 
 Our creeds may differ in degree. 
 But small that difference sure can be 1 
 As flowers which vary in their dyes. 
 We all shall bloom in Paradise. 
 As sire who loves his children well. 
 The loveliest face he cannot tell, — 
 So 'tis with us. We are the same. 
 One faith, one Father, and one aim. 
 
 And had'st thou lived where I was bred. 
 Amid the scenes where martyrs bled. 
 Their sufferings all to thee endear'd 
 By those most honour'd and revered ; 
 And where the wild dark streamlet raves, 
 Had'st wept above their lonely graves.
 
 VI 
 
 Thou would*st have felt, I know it true. 
 
 As I have done, and aye must do. 
 
 And for the same exalted cause. 
 
 For mankind's right, and nature's laws. 
 
 The cause of liberty divine. 
 
 Thy fathers bled as well as mine. 
 
 Then be it thine, O noble Maid, 
 On some still eve these tales to read ; 
 And thou wilt read, I know full well. 
 For still thou lovest the haunted dell ; 
 To linger by the sainted spring. 
 And trace the ancient fairy ring 
 Where moonhght revels long were held 
 In many a lone sequester'd field. 
 By Yarrow dens and Ettrick shaw. 
 And the green moimds of Carterhaugh. 
 
 O for one kindred heart that thought 
 As minstrel must, and lady ought>
 
 vu 
 
 That loves like thee the whispering wood. 
 
 And range of mountain solitude ! 
 
 Think how more wild the greenwood scene. 
 
 If times were still as they have been ; 
 
 If fairies, at the fall of even, 
 
 Down from the eye-brow of the heaven. 
 
 Or some aerial land afar. 
 
 Came on the beam of rising star ; 
 
 Their lightsome gambols to renew. 
 
 From the green leaf to quaff the dew. 
 
 Or dance with such a graceful tread. 
 
 As scarce to bend the gowan's head ! 
 
 Think if thou wert, some evening still. 
 
 Within thy wood of green Bowhill— 
 
 Thy native wood ! — the forest's pride I 
 
 Lover or sister by thy side ; 
 
 In converse sweet the hour to improve 
 
 Of things below and things above. 
 
 Of an existence scarce begun* 
 
 And note the stars rise one by one. 
 
 6
 
 vin 
 
 Just then, the moon and daylight blending. 
 To see the fairy bands descending. 
 Wheeling and shivering as they came. 
 Like glimmering shreds of human frame ; 
 Or sailing, 'mid the golden air, 
 In skiffs of yielding gossamer. 
 
 O, I would wander forth alone 
 Where human eye hath never shone. 
 Away o'er continents and isles 
 A thousand and a thousand miles. 
 For one such eve to sit with thee. 
 Their strains to hear and forms to see ! 
 Absent the while all fears of harm. 
 Secure in Heaven's protecting arm ; 
 To list the songs such beings sung. 
 And hear them speak in human tongue ; 
 To see 4n beauty, perfect, pure. 
 Of human face the miniature. 
 And smile of being free from sm. 
 That had not death impress'd within.
 
 IX 
 
 Ohj can it ever be forgot 
 
 What Scotland had, and now has not ! 
 
 Such scenes, dear Lady, now no more 
 Are given, or fitted as before. 
 To eye or ear of guilty dust ; 
 But when it comes, as come it must. 
 The time when I, from earth set free. 
 Shall turn the spark I fain would be ; 
 If there's a land, as grandsires tell. 
 Where Brownies, Elves, and Fairies dwell> 
 There my first visit shall be sped— 
 Journeyer of earth, go hide thy head ! 
 Of all thy travelling splendour shorn. 
 Though in thy golden chariot borne ! 
 Yon little cloud of many a hue 
 That wanders o'er the solar blue. 
 That curls, and rolls, and fleets away 
 Beyond the very springs of day,— 
 That do I challenge and engage 
 To be my travelling equipage.
 
 Then onward, onward, far to steer. 
 The breeze of Heaven my charioteer ; 
 The soul's own energy my guide. 
 Eternal hope my all beside. 
 At such a shrine who would not bow ! 
 Traveller of earth, where art thou now r 
 
 ^ Then let me for these legends claim, 
 My young, my honour'd Lady's name ; 
 That honour is reward complete. 
 Yet 1 must crave, if not unmeet. 
 One little boon— delightfid task 
 For maid to grant, or minstrel ask I 
 
 One day, thou may"st remember well. 
 For short the time since it befel. 
 When o'er thy forest-bowers of oak, 
 The eddying storm in darkness broke ; 
 Loud sung the blast adov»'n tlie dell. 
 And Yarrow lent her treble smcII :
 
 XI 
 
 The mountain's form grew more sublime. 
 Wrapt in its wreaths of rolling rime; 
 And Newark Cairn, in hoary shroud, 
 Appear'd like giant o'er the cloud : 
 The eve fell dark, and grimly scowrd. 
 Loud and more loud the tempest howl'd : 
 Without was turmoil, waste, and din. 
 The kelpie's cry was in the linn, 
 But all was love and peace within ! 
 And aye, betM^een, the melting strain 
 Pom''d from thy woodland harp amain. 
 Which, mixing with the storm around. 
 Gave a wild cadence to the sound. 
 
 That mingled scene, in every part. 
 Hath so impressed thy shepherd's heart. 
 With glowing feelings, kindling bright 
 Some filial visions of delight. 
 That almost border upon p^iin. 
 And he would hear those strains again.
 
 Xll 
 
 They brought delusions not to last. 
 Blending the future with the past ; 
 Dreams of fair stems, in foliage new. 
 Of flowers that spring where others grew 
 Of beauty ne'er to be outdone. 
 And stars that rise when sets the sun ; 
 The patriarchal days of yore. 
 The mountain music heard no more. 
 With all the scene before his eyes, 
 A family's and a nation's ties- 
 Bonds which the Heavens alone can rend. 
 With Chief, with Father, and with Friend. 
 No wonder that such scene refin'd 
 Should dwell on rude enthusiast's mind ! 
 Strange his reverse ! — He little wist— 
 Poor inmate of the cloud and' mist ! 
 That ever he, as friend, should claim 
 The proudest Caledonian name. 
 
 J. H. 
 Eltrive Lake, April Ut, 1818.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 VOL, I.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " It will be a bloody night in Gemsop 
 this," said Walter of Chapelhope, as he sat 
 one evening by the side of his little parlour 
 fire, and wrung the rim of his wet bonnet 
 into the grate. His wife sat by his side, 
 airing a pair of clean hosen for her hus- 
 band, to replace his wet ones. She looked 
 stedfastly in his face, but uttered not a 
 word ; — it was one of those looks that can- 
 not be described, but it bespoke the height 
 of curiosity, mingled with a kind of indefi- 
 nite terror. She loved and respected her 
 husband, and sometimes was wont to teaze
 
 4 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 or cajole him from his purpose ; but one 
 glance of his eye, or scowl of his eyebrow, 
 was a sufficient admonition to her when she 
 ventured to use such freedom. 
 
 The anxious stare that she bent on his 
 face at this time was enquiry enough, what 
 he meant by the short and mysterious sen- 
 tence he had just uttered ; but from the ful- 
 ness of his heart he had said that which he 
 could not recal, and had no mind to com- 
 mit himself farther. His eldest son, John, 
 was in the room too, which he had not re- 
 marked before he spoke, and therefore he 
 took the first opportunity to change the 
 subject. ** Gudewife," said he, tartly, 
 '* what are ye sittin glowrin like a bendit 
 wulcat there for? Gae away and get me 
 something to eat ; I'm like to fa' atwae wi' 
 sheer hunger." 
 
 ** Hunger, father !'* said the lad ; " Tm 
 sure 1 saw ye take as much meat to the hill 
 with you as might have served six." 
 
 Walter looked first over the one shoulder 
 at him, and then over the other, but, re-
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 5 
 
 pressing his wratb, he sat silent about the 
 space of two minutes, as if he had not heard 
 what the youth said. " Gallant," then said 
 he, with the greatest seeming composure, 
 " rin away to the hill, an* see after the eild 
 nowt ; ca' them up by the Quare Burn, an' 
 bide wi' them till they lie down, gin that 
 sudna be till twal o'clock at night — Gae 
 away when I bid ye — What are ye muragiii 
 at ?" And saying so, he gave him such a 
 thwack on the neck and shoulders with the 
 wet bonnet as made him make the best of 
 his way to the door. Whether he drove 
 the young cattle as far as the Quare Burn, 
 or whether he looked after them that night 
 or not, Walter made no farther enquiry. 
 
 He sat still by his fire wrapt in deep 
 thought, which seemed to increase his un- 
 easy and fretful mood. Maron Linton, (for 
 that was the goodvvife of Chapelhope's 
 name) observing the bad humour of her 
 husband, and knowing for certain that 
 something disagreeable had befallen him, 
 wisely forbore all intermeddling or teazing
 
 6 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 questions respecting the cause. Long ex- 
 perience had taught her the danger of these. 
 She bustled about, and set him down the 
 best fare that tlie house afforded ; then, ta- 
 king up her tobacco pipe, she meditated an 
 escape into the kitchen. She judged that 
 a good hearty meal by himself might some- 
 what abate his chagrin ; and, besides, the 
 ominous words were still ringing in her 
 ears — " It will be a bloody night in Gemsop 
 this" — and she longed to sound the shep- 
 herds that were assembled around the kit- 
 chen fire, in order to find out their import. 
 Walter, however, perceiving her drift, stop- 
 ped her short with — *• Gudewife, whar are 
 ye gaun sae fast ? Come back an' sit down 
 here, I want to speak t'ye." 
 
 Maron trembled at the tone in which these 
 words were spoken, but nevertheless did as 
 she was desired, and sat down again by the 
 fire. " Weel, Watie, what is't ?" said she, 
 in a low and humble tone. 
 , Walter plied his spoon for some time 
 without deigning any reply j then turning
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 7 
 
 full upon her, " Has Kate been in her bed 
 every night this week ?" asked he seriously. 
 
 «* Dear gudeman, whaten a question's 
 that to speer at me ? What can hae put sic 
 a norie i' your head as that ?" 
 
 •* That's no answerin my qiestion, Ma- 
 ron, but speerin ither twa instead o't — I axt 
 ye gin Kate hadna been out o' her bed for 
 some nights bygane." 
 
 " How sude I ken ony thing about that, 
 gudeman ? — ye may gang an' speer at her 
 —Out p' her bed, quotha! — Na— there'll 
 nae young skempy amang them wile her 
 out o' her bed i'the night-time. — Dear 
 gudeman, what has put it i'your head that 
 our bairn stravaigs i'the night-time ?" 
 
 «< Na, na, Maron, there's nae mortal soul 
 will ever gar ye answer to the point." 
 
 " Dear gudeman, wha heard ever tell o' 
 a mortal soul ? — the soul's no mortal at a' — 
 Didna ye hear our ain worthy curate-clerk 
 say" 
 
 " O, Maron ! Maron ! ye'll aye be the 
 auld woman, if the warld sude turn upside-
 
 B THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 down ! — Canna ye answer my question 
 simply, ay or no, as far as ye ken, whether 
 our daughter has been out o' her bed at 
 midnight for some nights bygane or no ?-^ 
 If ye ken that she has, canna ye tell me sae 
 at aince, without ganging about the bush ? 
 it's a thing that deeply concerns us baith." 
 
 ** Troth, gudeman, gin she hae been out 
 o' her bed, mony a honest man's bairn has 
 been out o' her bed at midnight afore her, 
 an' nae ill in her mind nouther — the thing's 
 as common as the rising o' the se'en 
 sterns." 
 
 Walter turned round towards his meal, 
 after casting a look of pity and despair 
 upon his yokefellow, who went on at 
 great length defending the equivocal prac- 
 tice of young women who might deem 
 it meet and convenient to leave their 
 beds occasionally by night ; for that, with- 
 out some mode of private wooing, it was 
 well known that no man in the country 
 could possibly procure a wife, for that 
 darkness rendered a promise serious, which
 
 THE BROWNIE OP BODSBECK. y 
 
 passed in open day for a mere joke, or 
 words of course ; and at length Maron 
 Linton, with more sagacity than usual, con- 
 cluded her arguments with the following 
 home remark : — " Ye ken fu' weel, gude- 
 man, ye courtit me i'the howe o' the night 
 yoursel ; an' Him that kens the heart kens 
 weel that I hae never had cause to rue our 
 bits o' trysts i'the dark — Na, na ! mooy's 
 the time an' aft that I hae blest them, an' 
 thought o' them wi' pleasure ! We had ae 
 kind o' happiness then, Watie, we hae an- 
 other now, an' we'll hae another yet." 
 
 There was something in this appeal that 
 it would have been unnatural to have re- 
 sisted. There is a tenderness in the recol- 
 lection of early scenes of mutual joy and 
 love, that invariably softens the asperity of 
 our nature, and draws the heart by an in- 
 visible bond toward the sharer of these ; 
 but when they are at one view connected 
 with rhe present and the future, the de- 
 light receives a tinge of sublimity. In 
 A gl
 
 10 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 short, the appeal was one of the most hap- 
 py that ever fell from the lips of a simple 
 and ignorant, though a well-meaning wo- 
 man. It was not lost upon Walter ; who, 
 though of a rough exterior and impatient 
 humour, was a good man. He took his 
 wife's hand and squeezed it, while the pu- 
 pil of his eye expanded like that of a huge 
 mountain ram, w^hen he turns it away from 
 the last ray of the setting sun. 
 
 " My gude auld wife," said he, '* God 
 bless ye ! — Ye hae bits o' queer gates 
 whiles, but I wadna part wi' ye, or see ane 
 o' yer grey hairs wranged, for a' the ewes 
 on the Hermon Law." — Maron gave two 
 or three sobs, and put the corner of her 
 check-apron upon the eye that was next 
 Walter. — " Fair fa' your heart, Maron," 
 said he, '* we'll say nae mair about it ; but, 
 my woman, we maun crack about our bits 
 o' hame affairs, an'. I had the strongest 
 reasons for coming to the truth o' yon j 
 however, I'll try ither means, — But, Maron
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 11 
 
 Linton, there's anither thin^, that in spite 
 o' my heart is like to breed me muckle 
 grief, an' trouble, an' shame. — Maron, has 
 the Brownie o' Bodsbeck been ony mair 
 seen about the town ?" 
 
 " Troth, gudeman, ye're aye sae hard i' 
 the belief — wi* a' your kindness to me and 
 mine, ye hae a dour, stiff, unbowsome kind 
 o' nature in ye — it'll hardly souple whan 
 steepit i' yer ain e'esight — but I can tell ye 
 for news, ye'U no hae a servant about yer 
 house, man, woman, nor boy, in less than 
 a fortnight, if this wicked and malevolent 
 spirit canna be put away — an' I may say i* 
 the language o' Scripture, « My name is 
 Legion, for we are many.' It's no ae 
 Brownie, nor twa, nor half-a -score, that's 
 about the house, but a great hantle — they 
 say they're ha'f deils ha'f fock — a thing that 
 I dinna weel understand. But how many 
 bannocks think ye I hae baken in our 
 house these eight days, an' no a crust o' 
 them to the fore but that wee bit on your 
 trencher ?"
 
 12 THE BaOWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 " I little wot, gudevvife ; maybe half-a- 
 dizen o' dizens." 
 
 " Half-a-dizen o' dizens, gudeman ! — aye 
 sax dizen o' dizens ! — a' the meal girnels i' 
 the country wadna stand if, let abee the 
 wee bit meal ark o' Chapel hope.'* 
 
 •* Gudewife, I'm perfectiy stoundit. I 
 dinna ken what to say, or what to think, 
 or what to do ; an' the mair sae o' what I 
 have heard sin' I gaed to the hill — Auld 
 John o' the Muir, our herd, wha I ken 
 wadna tell a lee for the Laird o' Drumel- 
 zier's estate, saw an unco sight the night 
 afore last." 
 
 ** Mercy on us, gudeman ! what mair has 
 been seen about the town ?" 
 
 " I'll tell ye, gudewife — on Monanday 
 night he cam yont to stop the ewes aff the 
 hogg-fence, the wind being eissel — it was 
 a wee after midnight, an' the moon wasna 
 just gane down — he was sittin i' the scug 
 o' a bit cleuch-brae, when, or ever he wist, 
 his dog Keilder fell a guniu' an' gurrin', as 
 he had seen something that he was terrified
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 13 
 
 for — John took him aneath his plaid, an* 
 held him, thinkin it was some sheep-steal- 
 ers ; but or it was lang he saw a white 
 thing an' a black thing comin' up the 
 Houm close thegither ; they cam by with- 
 in three catloups o' him — he grippit his 
 cudgel firm, an' was aince gaun to gie 
 them strength o' arm, but his power failed 
 him, an' a' his sinnens grew like dockans ; 
 there was a kind o' glamour cam o'er his 
 een too, for a' the hope an' the heaven grew 
 as derk as tar an' pitch — but the settin 
 moon shone even in their faces, and he saw 
 them as weel as it had been fore-day. The 
 tane was a wee bit hurklin crile of an un- 
 earthly thing, as shrinkit an' wan as he had ^ 
 lien seven years i' the grave ; the tither 
 was like a young woman — an' what d'ye 
 think? he says he'll gang to death wi't 
 that it was outher our dochter or her 
 wraith." 
 
 Maron lifted up her eyes and her clasped 
 hands toward the ceihng, and broke out 
 with the utmost vehemence into the fol-
 
 14j the brownie of bodsbeck. 
 
 lowing raving ejaculation : — " O mercy, 
 mercy ! Watie Laidlaw ! — ^O, may Him 
 that dwalls atween the Sherubeams be wi' 
 us, and preserve us and guide us, for we are 
 undone creatures !— O, Watie Laidlaw, 
 Watie Laidlaw ! there's the wheel within 
 the wheel, the mystery o' Babylon, the mo- 
 ther of harlots, and abominations of the 
 earth " 
 
 " Maron Linton ! — What are ye sayin ? 
 — Hand yer tongue, Maron Linton." 
 
 " O gudeman, I thought it was the young 
 fallows ye jaloosed her wi' — 1 wish it had, 
 I wad rather hae seen her i'the black stool, 
 in the place where repentance is to be 
 hoped for ; but now she's i'the deil's ain 
 hands. I jaloosed it, Watie — I kend it — I 
 was sure o't lang syne — our bairn's changed 
 — she's transplanted — she's no Keaty Laid- 
 law now, but an unearthly creature — we 
 might weel hae kend that flesh an' blude 
 cude never be sae bonny — Goodman, I hae 
 an awsome tale to tell ye — Wha think ye 
 was it that killed Clavers' Highlanders ?" 
 6
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 15 
 
 «* That, I suppose, will remain a mystery 
 till the day when a' secrets will be cleared 
 up, an' a' the deeds o' darkness brought to 
 light." 
 
 " Sae may it be, Watie ! Sae may it be ! 
 But it was neither ane nor other but our ain 
 only dochter Kate." 
 
 " Ye're ravin, Maron — troth, ye're gaun 
 daft — a bit skJendry lassie o' aughteen kill 
 sae mony armed Highlanders ? — Hout fye ! 
 keep within bounds, Maron." 
 
 ** I heard her wi' thir lugs it's i*my head 
 — Stannin on that very room floor, I heard 
 her gie the orders to her Brownie. She was 
 greetin whan I cam in — I listened and heard 
 her saying, while her heart was like to loup, 
 • Wae's me ! O wae's me ! or mid-day 
 their blood will be rinning Hke water ! — 
 The auld an' the young, the bonny an' the 
 gude, the sick an' the woundit — That blude 
 may cry to Heaven, but the cauld earth 
 will drink it up ; days may be better, but 
 waur they canna be ! Down wi' the clans. 
 Brownie, and spare nae ane,' In less than
 
 16 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 ten minutes after that, the men were found 
 dead. Now, Watie, this is a plain an' po- 
 sitive truth." 
 
 Walter's blood curdled within him at 
 this relation. He was superstitious, but he 
 always affected to disbelieve the existence 
 of the Brownie, though the evidences were 
 so strong as not to admit of any doubt ; but 
 this double assurance, that his only daugh- 
 ter, whom he loved above all the world be- 
 sides, was leagued with evil spirits, utterly 
 confounded him. He charged his wife, in 
 the most solemn manner, never more, du- 
 ring^her life, to mention the mysterious cir- 
 cumstance relating to the death of the 
 Highland soldiers. It is not easy to con- 
 ceive a pair in more consummate astonish- 
 ment than Walter and his spouse were by 
 the time the conversation had reached this 
 point. The one knew not what to think, to 
 reject, or believe — the other believed all, 
 without comprehending a single iota of 
 that she did believe ; her mind endeavour- 
 ed to grasp a dreadful imaginary form, but
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 17 
 
 the dimensions were too ample for its rea- 
 soning powers ; they were soon dilated, 
 burst, and were blown about, as it were, in 
 a world of vision and terror.
 
 18 THE BROWKIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 Before proceeding with the incidents as 
 they occurred, which is the common way 
 of telling a story in the country, it w^ill be 
 necessary to explain some circumstances 
 alluded to in the foregoing chapter. 
 
 Walter Laidlaw rented the extensive 
 bounds of Chapelhope from the Laird of 
 Drummelzier. He was a substantial, and 
 even a wealthy man, as times went then, 
 for he had a stock of 3000 sheep, cattle, 
 and horses ; and had, besides, saved con- 
 siderable sums of money, which he had 
 lent out to neighbouring farmers who 
 were not in circumstances so independent 
 as himself. 
 
 He had one only daughter, his darling, 
 who was adorned with every accomplish- 
 ment which the country could then afford.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 19 
 
 and with every grace and beauty that a 
 country maiden may possess. He had 
 likewise two sons, who were younger than 
 she, and a number of shepherds and fe- 
 male servants. 
 
 The time on which the incidents here 
 recorded took place, was, I believe, in the 
 autumn of the year 1685, the most dismal 
 and troublous time that these districts of 
 the south and west of Scotland ever saw, 
 or have since seen. The persecution for 
 religion then raged in its wildest and most 
 unbridled fury : the Covenanters, or the 
 whigs, as they were then called, were pro- 
 scribed, imprisoned, and at last hunted 
 down Hke wild beasts. Graham, Viscount 
 of Dundee, better known by the detested 
 name of Clavers, set loose his savage troop- 
 ers upon those peaceful districts, with pe- 
 remptory orders to plunder, waste, disperse, 
 and destroy the conventiclers, wherever 
 they might be found. 
 
 All the outer parts of the lands of Cha- 
 pelhope are broken into thousands of deep
 
 So THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 black ruts, called by the country people 
 moss haggs^. Each of the largest of these 
 has a green stripe along its bottom ; and 
 in this place in particular they are so nu- 
 merous, so intersected and complex in 
 their lines, that, as a hiding-place, they 
 are unequalled — men, foxes, and sheep, 
 may all there find cover with equal safety 
 from being discovered, and may hide for 
 days and nights without being aware of 
 one another. The neighbouring farms to 
 the westward abound with inaccessible 
 rocks, caverns, and ravines. To these 
 mountains, therefore, the shattered re- 
 mains of the fugitives from the field of 
 Bothwell Bridge, as well as the broken 
 and persecuted v./higs from all the western 
 and southern counties, fled as to their last 
 refuge. Being unacquainted, however, 
 with the inhabitants of the country in 
 which they had taken shelter — with their 
 religious principles, or the opinions which 
 they held respecting the measures of go- 
 vernment — they durst not trust them with
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 21 
 
 the secret of their retreat. They had 
 watches set, sounds for signals, and skulk- 
 ed away from one hiding-place to another 
 at the approach of the armed troop, the 
 careless fowler, or the solitary shepherd ; 
 yea, such precautions were they obliged to 
 use, that they often fled from the face of 
 one another. 
 
 From the midst of that inhospitable 
 wilderness — from those dark mosses and 
 unfrequented caverns — the prayers of the 
 persecuted race nightly arose to the throne 
 of the Almighty — prayers, as all testified 
 who heard them, fraught with the most 
 simple pathos, as well as the most bold 
 and vehement sublimity. In the solemn 
 gloom of the evening, after the last rays 
 of day had disappeared, and again in the 
 morning before they began to streamer the 
 east, the song of praise was sung to that 
 Being, under whose fatherly chastisement 
 they were patiently suffering. These 
 psalms, always chaunted with ardour and 
 wild melody, and borne on the light
 
 22 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 breezes of the twilight, were often heard 
 at a great distance. The heart of the pea- 
 sant grew chill, and his hairs stood all on 
 end, as he ha ted home to alarm the cot- 
 tage circle with a tale of horror. Lights 
 were seen moving by night in wilds and 
 caverns whefe human thing never resided, 
 and where the foot of man seldom had 
 trode. 
 
 Ihe shepherds knew, or thought ihey 
 knew, that no human heing frequented 
 these places ; and they believed, as well 
 they might, that whole hordes of spirits 
 had taken possession of their remote and 
 solitary dells. They Hved in terror and 
 consternation. Those who had no tie in 
 the country left it, and retreated into 
 the vales, where the habitations of men 
 are numerous, and where the fairy, the 
 brownie, or the walking ghost, is rarely 
 seen. Such as had friends whom they 
 could not leave, or sheep and cattle upon 
 the lands, as the farmers and shepherds 
 had, were obliged to remain, but their
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 25 
 
 astonishment and awe continued to in- 
 crease. They knew there was but one 
 Being to whom they could apply for pro- 
 tection against these unearthly visitants; 
 family worship was begun both at evening 
 and morning in the farmers' hall and the 
 most remote hamlet ; and that age intro- 
 duced a spirit of devotion into those re- 
 gions, which one hundred and thirty years 
 continuance of the utmost laxity and inde- 
 cision in religious principles has not yet 
 been able wholly to eradicate. 
 
 It is likewise necessary to mention here, 
 though perfectly well known, that every 
 corner of that distracted country was fur- 
 nished with a gownsman, to instruct the 
 inhabitants in the mild and benignant prin- 
 ciples of prelacy, but chiefly to act as spies 
 upon the detested whigs. In the fulfilment 
 of this last task they were not remiss ; they 
 proved the most inveterate and incorrigible 
 enemies that the poor covenanters had, 
 even though heaven, earth, and hell seem- 
 ed to have combined against them.
 
 24 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 The officiating priest at the kirk of Saint 
 Mary of the Lowes had been particularly 
 active in this part of his commission. The 
 smallest number could not be convened for 
 the purposes of public devotion — two or 
 three stragglers could not be seen crossing 
 the country, but information was instantly 
 sent to Clavers, or some one of his officers ; 
 and, at the same time, these devotional 
 meetings were always described to be of 
 the most atrocious and rebellious nature. 
 The whigs became grievously incensed 
 against this ecclesiastic, for, in the bleak* 
 est mountain of their native land, they 
 could not enjoy a lair in common with the 
 foxes and the wild-goats in peace, nor wor- 
 ship their God witliout annoyance in the 
 dens and caves of the earth. Their con- 
 venticles, though held in places ever so re- 
 mote, were broke in upon and dispersed 
 by armed troops, and their ministers and 
 brethren carried away to prisons, to ba- 
 nishment, and to death. They waxed des- 
 perate 5 and what will not desperate men 
 9
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 25 
 
 do ? They way-laid, and seized upon one 
 of the priest's emissaries by night, a young 
 female, who was running on a message to 
 Grierson of Lag. Overcome with fear at 
 being in custody of such frightful-looking 
 fellows, with their sallow cheeks and long 
 beards, she confessed the whole, and gave 
 up her dispatches. They were of the most 
 aggravated nature. Forthwith two or three 
 of the most hardy of the whigs, without 
 the concurrence or knowledge of their 
 brethren, posted straight to the Virgin's 
 chapel that very night, shot the chaplain, 
 and buried him at a small distance from 
 bis own little solitary mansion ; at the 
 same time giving out to the country, that 
 he was a sorcerer, an adulterer, and a cha- 
 racter every way evil. = His name has ac- 
 cordingly been handed down to posterity 
 as a most horrid necromancer. 
 
 This was a rash and unpremeditated act ; 
 and, as might well have been foreseen, the 
 cure proved worse than the disease. It 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 26 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 brought the armed troops upon them both 
 from the east and the west. Dundee came 
 to Traquair, and stationed companies of 
 troops in a line across the country. The 
 Laird of Lag placed a body of men in the 
 narrowest pass of MofFatdale, in the only 
 path by which these mountains are accessi- 
 ble. Thus all communication was cut off 
 between the mountain-men and the west- 
 ern counties ; for every one who went or 
 came by that way, these soldiers took pri- 
 soner, searched, and examined ; and one 
 lad, who was coming from Moifat, carrying 
 more bread than they thought he could 
 w^ell account for, they shot dead on the 
 spot just as he had dropt on his knees to 
 pray. 
 
 A curate, named Clerk, still remained, 
 to keep an eye upon the whigs and pester 
 them. He had the charge of two chapels 
 in that vicinity j the one at a place now 
 called Kirkhope, which was dedicated to 
 Saint Irene, a saint of Vv^hom the narrator 
 of this story could give no account. The
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. ^7 
 
 other was dedicated to Saint Lawrence ; 
 the remains of it are still to be seen at 
 Chapelhope, in a small circular inclosure 
 on the west side of the burn. Clerk was 
 as malevolent to the full against the pro- 
 scribed party as his late brother, but he 
 wanted the abilities of the deceased ; he 
 was ignorant, superstitious, and had as-, 
 sumed a part of the fanaticism in religion^ 
 of the adverse party, for it was the age 
 and the country of fanaticism, and nothing 
 else would take. By that principally he 
 had gained some influence among his hear* 
 ers, on whom he tried every stimulant to 
 influence them against the whigs. The 
 goodwife of Chapelhope was particularly 
 attached to him and his tenets ; he held 
 her completely in leading-strings ; her con- 
 cience approved of every thing, or disap- 
 proved, merely as he directed ; he flatter- 
 ed her for her deep knowledge in true and 
 sound divinity and the Holy Scriptures, al- 
 though of both she was grossly ignorant. 
 But she had learned from her preceptor a
 
 28 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 kind of cant — a jargon of religious terms 
 and sentences of Scripture mixed, of which 
 she had great pride but Httle understanding. 
 She was just such a character as would 
 have been a whig, had she ever had an op- 
 portunity of hearing or conversing with any 
 of that sect. Nothing earthly could be so 
 truly ludicrous as some of her exhibitions 
 in a religious style. The family and ser- 
 vants were in general swayed by their mis- 
 tress, who took a decided part with Clerk 
 in all his schemes against the whigs, and 
 constantly dispatched one of her own ser- 
 vants to carry his messages of information 
 to the king's officers. This circumstance 
 soon became known to the m.ountain-men, 
 and though they were always obliged to 
 take refuge on the lands of Chapelhope by 
 day, they avoided carefully all communica- 
 tion with the family or shepherds (for se- 
 veral of the shepherds on that farm lived in 
 cottages at a great distance from one an- 
 other and from the tarm-house.) 
 
 Walter despised Clerk and his tenets
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 29 
 
 most heartily ; he saw that he was a shal- 
 low, hypocritical, and selfish being, and that 
 he knew nothing of the principles in which 
 he pretended to instruct them ; therefore 
 he sorely regretted the influence that he 
 had gained over his family. Neither did he 
 approve of the rigid and rebeUious princi- 
 ples which he believed the Covenanters pro- 
 fessed. When he met with any man, or 
 community of men, who believed firmly in 
 any thing and held it sacred, Walter reve- 
 red that, and held it sacred likewise ; but 
 it was rather from a deference to the be- 
 lief and feelings of his fellow creatures than 
 his own conviction. In short, Walter was 
 an honest, conscientious, good, old-fashion- 
 ed man, but he made no great fuss about 
 relig'on, and many supposed that he did 
 not care a pin who was right or who was 
 wrong. 
 
 On the 23d of Auixust, Clavers (I think 
 it bust to denominate him so, as he is al- 
 ways called by that name in the country,) 
 dispatched nineteen men irom Traquair, un-
 
 30 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 der the command of one Copland, a gen- 
 tleman volunteer in his troop, and a very 
 brave young man, to gain intelligence con- 
 cerning the murder of the curate, and use 
 every means to bring the perpetrators to 
 justice. Copland and his men came to the 
 mansion of the late chaplain, where they 
 remained all the night, and made every en- 
 quiry that they could concerning the mur- 
 derers. Several witnessess were brought in 
 and examined, and among others the very 
 identical girl whom the whigs took prison- 
 er, and robbed of the dispatches. She had 
 heard the letter read by one of the gang 
 who seized her, while the rest stood and 
 listened. It bore, " that great numbers of 
 the broken and rebelhous traitors kennel- 
 ed in the wilds around Loch-Skene, from 
 whence they committed depredations on 
 all the countries about ; that they likewise 
 made religious incursions into those dis- 
 tricts, where great multitudes attended their 
 inflammatory harangues." It also stated, 
 *< that a noted incendiary was to preach on
 
 THE BaOWNIE OF BODSBECK. 31 
 
 such a day in Kirkinhope Linn, where the 
 whole group might easily be surrounded 
 and annihilated j that many of them were 
 armed with guns, bludgeons, and broad- 
 swords, but that they were the most cow- 
 ardly, heartless dogs alive ; and that he 
 himself, who had private and certain in- 
 formation of all their hiding places, would 
 engage to rid the country of them in a few 
 days, if Lag would allow him but one com- 
 pany of soldiers.'* 
 
 Copland now began to suspect that his 
 force was too small to accomplish any 
 thing of moment ; he determined, how- 
 ever, to make a dash into the wild next 
 morning, and, if possible, to seize some 
 prisoners, and thereby gain more accurate 
 information. On the morning of the 24th, 
 having procured two trusty guides, he pro- 
 ceeded on his expedition. He and nine of 
 his followers went up by a place called 
 Sheiihope, the other nine by Chapel hope — 
 they w^ere to scour the broken ground, take 
 all thoseprisoners whom they found skulking^
 
 32 THE Bi'lOWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 fire upon such as refused to stand, and meet 
 on a certain height at noon. Copland and his 
 party reached the appointed place without 
 making any reprisal ; they perceived some 
 stragglers on the heights and rocks at a 
 great distance, who always vanished away, 
 like beings not of this world. Three of 
 the other party took one poor lad prisoner, 
 who was so spent and emaciated that he 
 had been unable to fly at the signal-sound ; 
 but so intent were they on blood that he 
 was not ever brought before their leader, 
 who never so much as knew of the capture. 
 The guide was wont to relate the cir- 
 cumstances of this poor man's trial and 
 execution, for, but for him, no such thing 
 w^ould ever have been known ; the death 
 of a whig, or a straggler of any kind, was 
 then a matter of no concern — ^They were 
 three Brae-mar Highlanders who took him ; 
 like the most part of his associates, he 
 answered their questions in a surly man- 
 ner, and In the most cutting retorts, which 
 particularly enraged a Donald Farquhar-
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 33 
 
 son, one of the party, against him. *' Weel, 
 rU pe pitting you to 'e test, and tat fery 
 shun, my coot freen," said Donald ; " and 
 I'll just pe teehng you, eince for a', tat ye 
 haif ne meer but tway meenets and a half 
 to leef." 
 
 The poor forlorn wight answered, ** that 
 he expected no better at their hands, 
 — that he desired no longer time, and 
 he hoped they would bear patiently with 
 him for that short space." He then 
 kneeled down and prayed most fervently, 
 while Donald, who wanted only a hair to 
 make a tether of, as the saying is, seemed 
 watching diligently for a word at \\hich to 
 quarrel. At length he spoke words to the 
 following purport. ** Father, forgive these 
 poor misled creatures, as I forgive iheax ; 
 they are running blindly upon a wrong 
 path, and without the power of thy grace 
 they shall never gain the right one more." 
 Donald, who did not well understand the 
 dialect in which the prisoner prayed, look- 
 B 2
 
 34t THE EilOWNIE OF BODS£ECK. 
 
 ed shrewdly at his companions. " Dugald 
 More," said he — " Dugald More, fat's 'e 
 man saying ?"' 
 
 ** He is praying," replied the other, " that 
 we may lose our way, and never find it 
 more." 
 
 <« Cot t — n 'e soul o' 'e tief, is he ?" said 
 Donald, and ran him through with his bay- 
 onet. 
 
 The wounded man groaned, and cried 
 most piteously, and even called out " mur- 
 der," but there was none to rescue or re- 
 gard him. The soldiers, however, cut the 
 matter short, by tossing him into a deep 
 hole in the morass, where he sunk in the 
 mire and was seen no more. 
 
 When Copland arrived at the place of 
 rendezvous, five out of his ten associates 
 were no where to be seen, nor did they 
 make their appearance, although he tarried 
 there till two in the afternoon. The guide 
 then conducted him by the path on which 
 those missing should have come, and on 
 arriving at a narrow pass in Chapelhope,
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. S5 
 
 he found the bodies of the four soldiers 
 and their guide mangled and defaced in no 
 ordinary way; and judging from this that 
 he had been long enough in that neigh- 
 bourhood, he hasted back to Traquair with 
 the news of the loss. Clavers is said to 
 have broke out into the most violent rage» 
 and to have sworn that night by the Bless- 
 ed Virgin and all the Holy Trinity, utterly 
 
 to extirpate the seed of the d d whining 
 
 psalm-singing race from the faee of the 
 earth, and that ere Beltein there should not 
 be as much whig blood in Scotland as 
 would make a dish of soup to a dog. He 
 however concealed from the privy council 
 the loss of these five men, nor did they 
 ever kn©w of it to this day.
 
 S6 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Things were precisely in this state, when 
 the goodman of Chapelhope, taking his 
 plaid and staff, went out to the heights one 
 misty day in autumn to drive off a neigh- 
 bour's flock from his pasture 5 but, as Wal- 
 ter was wont to relate the story himself, 
 when any stranger came there on a winter 
 evening, as long as he lived, it may haply 
 be acceptable to the curious, and the lovers 
 of rustic simplicity, to read it in his own 
 words, although he drew it out to an inor- 
 dinate length, and perhaps ktpt his own 
 personal feelings and prowess too much in 
 vit'w for the fastidious or critical reader to 
 approve. 
 
 ** It was on a mirk misty day in Sep tern-
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 37 
 
 ber," said Walter, <* I mind it weel, that I 
 took my plaid about me, and a bit gay 
 steeve aik stick in my hand, and away I 
 sets to turn aff the Winterhopeburn sheep. 
 The wind had been east-about a' that harst, 
 I hae some sma' reason ne'er to forget it, 
 and they had amaist gane wi' a' the gairs 
 i* our North Grain. I weel expected I wad 
 find them a' in the scaithe that dark day, 
 and I was just amind to tak them hame in 
 a drove to Aidie Andison's door, and say, 
 ' Here's yer sheep for ye, lad ; ye maun 
 outher keep them better, or else, gude 
 faith, I'll keep them for ye.'~I had been 
 crost and put about wi' them a' that year, 
 and I was just gaun to bring the screw to 
 the neb o' the mire-snipe. — Weel, off I 
 sets — I had a special dog at my feet, and 
 a bit gay fine stick in my hand, and I was 
 rather cross>natured that day — ' Auld Wat's 
 no gaun to be o'er-trampit wi' nane o* them, 
 for a' that's come and gane yet,' quo' 1 to 
 mysel as I gaed up the burn. — Weel, I 
 slings aye on wi' a gay lang step j but, by
 
 38 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 the time that I had won the Forkings, I gat 
 collied amang the mist, sae derk, that fient 
 a spark I could see — Stogs aye on through 
 ckuch and gill, and a' the gairs that they 
 used to spounge, but, to my great mervel, 
 I can nouther see a hair of a ewe's tail, nor 
 can I hear the bleat of a lamb, or the bell 
 of a wether — No ane, outher of my ain or 
 ither folks ! — • Ay,' says I to mysel, ' what 
 can be the meaning o' this? od, there has 
 been somebody here afore me the day !* 
 I was just standin looking about me aniang 
 the lang hags that lead out frae the head 
 o' the North Grain, and considering what 
 could be wort of a' the sheep, when I no- 
 ticed my dog, Reaver, gaun coursing away 
 forrit as he had been setting a fox. What's 
 this, thinks I — On he gangs very angry 
 like, cocking his tail, and setting up hh 
 birses, till he wan to the very brink of a 
 deep hag ; but when he gat there, my cer- 
 ty, he wasna lang in turning ! Back he 
 comes, by rne^ an* away as the deil had 
 been chasing him j as terrified a beast I
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 39 
 
 saw never — Od, sir, I fand the very hairs 
 o' my head begin to creep, and a prinkling 
 through a' my veins and skin like needles 
 and preens. — * God guide us !' thinks 1, 
 * what can tliis be T The day was derk, 
 derk ; for I was in the very stamoch o' the 
 cludd, as it were ; still it was the day time, 
 an' the e'e o' Heaven was open. I was as 
 near turned an' run after my tike as ever 
 I'll miss, but I just fand a stound o' man- 
 heid gang through my heart, an* forrit I 
 sets wi' a' the vents o' my head open. « If 
 it's flesh an' blude,* thuiks 1, • or it get the 
 owrance o* auld Wat Laidlaw, od it sal get 
 strength o' arm for aince.' It was a deep 
 hag, as deep as the wa's o' this house, and 
 a strip o' green sward alang the bottom 
 o't ; and when I came to the brow, what 
 does I see but twa lang liesh chaps lying 
 sleeping at ither's sides, haith happit wi' 
 the same maud. ' Hallo!' cries I, wi' a 
 stern voice, ' wha hae we here ? If ye 
 had but seen how they lookit when they
 
 40 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 stertit up ; od, ye wad hae thought they 
 were twa scoundrels wakened frae the 
 dead ! I never saw twa mair hemp-looking 
 dogs in my life, 
 
 * What are ye feared for, lads ? Whaten 
 twa blades are ye ? Or what are ye seek- 
 ing in sic a place as this r' 
 
 * This is a derk day, gudeman.' 
 
 < This is a derk day, gudeman ! That's 
 sic an answer as I heard never. I wish ye 
 wad tell me something I dinna ken — and 
 that's wha ye are, and what ye're seeking 
 here ?' 
 
 « We're seeking nought o^ yours, friend.' 
 
 * 1 dinna believe a word o't — ye're nae 
 folk o' this country — I doubt ye ken o'er 
 weel what stealing o' sheep is — But if ye 
 winna tell me plainly and honestly your 
 business here, the deil be my inmate gin I 
 winna knock your twa heads thegither.' 
 
 * There is a gude auld say, honest man, 
 It is best to let sleeping dogs lie, they may 
 rise and bite you' 
 
 10
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 41 
 
 ' Bite 77iey lad ! — Rise an' bite me ! — I 
 wad like to see a dog on a' the heights o' 
 Chapel hope that wad snarl at me, let be to 
 bite !' 
 
 '' 1 had a gay steeve dour aik stick in 
 my hand, an' wi' that I begoud to heave't 
 up, no to strike them, but just to gi'e 
 them a glisk o' the coming-on that was 
 in't. By this time they were baith on their 
 feet ; and the ane that was neist me he 
 gi*es the tabie of his jockey-coat a fling 
 back, and out he pu's a braid sword frae 
 aneath it — an' wi' the same blink the ither 
 whups a sma' spear out o' the heart o' his 
 aik stick, ' Here's for ye then, auld cam- 
 stary,' says they ; * an unhickv fish gets an 
 unlucky bait.' Od sir, I was raUier stound- 
 it ; I began to look o'er my shouther, but 
 there was naething there but the ssvathes 
 o' mist. AVhat wad 1 hae gien for twa mi- 
 nutes oFauld John o' the Muchrah ! How- 
 ever, there was nae time to lose — it was 
 come fairly to the neb o* the mire-snipe
 
 42 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 wi' me. I never was gude when taken by 
 surprise a' my life — gie me a wee time, an* 
 I turn quite foundemental then — sae, to 
 tell the truth, in my hurry I took the flier's 
 part, flang the plaid frae me, and ran off 
 up the hag as fast as my feet could carry 
 me, an* a' the gate the ragamuffian wi' the 
 sword was amaist close at my heels. The 
 bottom o' the hag was very narrow, twa 
 could hardly rin abreast. My very bluid 
 began to rise at being chased by twa ske- 
 bels, and I thought I heard a voice within 
 me, crying, * Dinna flee, Wat Laidlaw ! 
 dinna flee, auld Wat ! ye hae a gude cause 
 by the end !' I wheeled just round in a mo- 
 ment, sir, and drew a desperate straik at 
 the foremost, an' sae little kend the haniel 
 about fencing, that instead o' sweeing afF 
 my downcome wi' his sword, he held up 
 his sword-arm to save his head — I gart his 
 arm just snap like a pipe-stapple, and down 
 fell his bit whittle to the ground, and he 
 on aboon it. The tither, wi' his sma* spear, 
 
 4
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 43 
 
 durstna come on, but ran for it ; I follow- 
 ed, and was mettler o* foot than he, but I 
 durstna grip him, for fear he had run his 
 bit spit through my sma-fairns i' the strug- 
 gle, for it was as sharp as a lance, but I 
 keepit a little back till I gat the end o' my 
 stick just i' the how o' his neck, and then 
 1 gae him a push that soon gart him plew 
 the flow with his nose. On aboon him I 
 gets, and the first thing I did was to fling 
 away his bit twig of a sword — I gart it 
 shine through the air like a fiery dragon — 
 then I took him by the cifF o' the neck, 
 and lugged him back to his neighbour, wha 
 was lying graning in the hag. « Now, bilhes, 
 says I, ye shall answer face to face, it wad 
 hae been as good soon as syne 5 tell me di- 
 rectly wha ye are, and what's your business 
 here, or, d'ye hear me, I'll tye ye thegither 
 like twa tikes, and tak ye to them that will 
 gar ye speak. 
 
 < Ah ! lack-a-day, lack-a-day !' said the 
 wounded man, * ye're a rash, foolish, pas- 
 sionate man, whaever ye be.*
 
 44 THE BROWNIE OF DODSBECK. 
 
 * Ye're maybe no very far wrang there,' 
 quo' I ; ' but for aince, I trow, I had gude 
 reason. Ye thought to kill me \vi' your 
 bits o' shabbies o* swords !'* 
 
 * In the first place then,' said he, * ken 
 that we wadna hae shed ae drap o' your 
 blood, nor wranged a hair o' your head — 
 all that we wanted was to get quit of ye, to 
 keep ye out o' danger an' scaith. Ye hae 
 made a bonny day's wark on't truly, we had 
 naething in view but your ain safety — but 
 sin' ye will ken ye maun ken y we belang 
 to a poor proscribed remnant, that hae fled 
 from the face of a bloody persecution. We 
 have left all, and lost all, for tlve cause of our 
 religion, and are driven into this dismal 
 wihlerness, the only miserable retreat left 
 us in our native land.' 
 
 * Od, sir ! he hadna weel begim to speak 
 till the light o'the truth began to dawn with- 
 in me like the brc k o' the day-sky, an' I grew 
 as red too, for the devil needna hae envied 
 me my feelings at tliat time. I couldna 
 help saying to mysel, « Whow, whow, Wat
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 45 
 
 Laidlaw ! but ye bae made a bonny job o't 
 this morning ! — Here's twa puir creatures, 
 worn out wi' famine and watching, come 
 to seek a last refuge amang your hags and 
 mosses, and ye maun fa' to and be pelting 
 and threshing on them like an incarnate 
 devil as ye are. — Oh, wae's me ! wae's me 1' 
 — Lord, sir, I thought my heart wad burst 
 — There was a kind o' yuke came into my 
 een that I could hardly bruke ; but at 
 length the muckle tears wan out wi' a sair 
 faught, and down they came down ower 
 my beard, dribble for dribble. The men 
 saw the pliskie that I was in, and there was 
 a kind o' ruefu' benevolence i' their looks, 
 I never saw ony thing like it.' 
 
 * Dinna be wae for us, honest man,' 
 said they ; * we hae learned to suffer — we 
 hae kend nought else for this mony a lang 
 and bloody year, an' we look for nought 
 else for the wee while we hae to sojourn in 
 this weary world— we hae learned to suffer 
 patiently, and to welcome our sufferings as 
 mercies.'
 
 46 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 * Ye've won a gude length, man,' quo' 
 I ; ' but they're mercies that Vm never very 
 fond o' — I wish ye had suffered under ony 
 hand but mine, sin' it be your lot.' 
 
 * Dinna be sorry for us, honest man ; 
 there never was an act o' mair justice than 
 this that ye hae inflicted. Last night there 
 were fifteen o' us met at evening worship 
 — we hadna tasted meat for days and nights ; 
 to preserve our miserable lives, we stole a 
 sheep, dressed, and ate it ; and wi' this 
 very arm that you hae disabled, did I grip 
 and kill that sheep. It was a great sin, 
 nae doubt, but the necessity was also great 
 — I am sae far punished, and I hope the 
 Lord will forgie the rest.' 
 
 * If he dinna,' quo' I, * he's no what I 
 think him.' Then he began a lang serious 
 harangue about the riches o' free grace, 
 and about the wickedness o' our nature ; 
 and said, that we could do naething o' our- 
 sells hut sin. I said it was a hard construc- 
 tion, but I couldna argy the point ava 
 wi' him — I never was a dab at these lang-
 
 THE BUOWNIE OF BODSBECK. 4? 
 
 winded stories. Then they cam on about 
 prelacy and heresies, and something they 
 ca'd the act of abjuration. I couldna fol- 
 low him out at nae rate ; but I says, ^ I 
 pit nae doubt, callants, but ye*re right, for 
 ye hae proven to a' the warid that ye think 
 sae y and when a man feels conscious that 
 he's right, I never beheve he can be far 
 wrung in sic matters. But that's no the 
 point in question ; let us consider what 
 can be done for ye e'en now — Poor souls ! 
 God kens, my heart's sair for ye ; but this 
 land's mine, an' a' the sheep around ye, an' 
 ye*re welcome to half-a-dozen o' the best o' 
 them in sic a case.' 
 
 * Ah ! lack-a-day, lack-a-day ! If ye be 
 the gudeman o' the Chapelhope, ye'll rue 
 the day that ever ye saw us. If it's kend 
 that ye countenanced us in word or deed, 
 ye're a ruined man ; for the blood-hounds 
 are near at hand, and they'll herry ye out 
 and in, but and ben — Lack-a-day I lack-a- 
 day ! in a wee while we may gang and
 
 48 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 come by the Chapelhope, and nouther see a 
 lum reek nor hear a cock craw ; for Cla- 
 vers is on the one hand and Lag on the 
 other, and they're coming nearer and nearer 
 us every day, and hemming us in sairer and 
 sairer — renounce us and deny us, as ye wish 
 to thrive/ 
 
 * Na, na, lads, let them come — let them 
 come their ways ! Gin they should take a' 
 the ewes and kye on the Chapelhope, I can 
 stock it o'er again. I dinna gie a bawbee 
 about your leagues, and covenants, and as- 
 sociations, for I think aye there's a good 
 deal o' faction and dourness in them ; but 
 or I'll desert a fellow- creature that's op- 
 pressed, if he's an honest man, and lippens 
 to me, od, I'll gie them the last drap o' my 
 heart's bluid.' 
 
 " When they heard that, they took me 
 out to the tap of a knowe, and began to 
 whistle like plovers — nae herd alive could 
 hae kend but they were plovers — and or 
 ever I wist, ilka hag, and den, and tod-hole
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 49 
 
 round about, seemed to be fu' o' plovers, 
 for they fell a' to the whistling an' answer- 
 ing ane another at the same time* I had 
 often been wondering how they staid sae 
 lang on the heights that year, for I heard 
 them aye whewing e'en an' morn ; but lit- 
 tk trowed I they were a' twa-handed plo- 
 vers that I heard. In half an hour they 
 had sic a squad gathered thegither as e'e 
 never glimed on. There ye might hae seen 
 auld gray-bearded ministers, lairds, wea- 
 vers, and poor hinds, a' sharing the same 
 hard fate. They were pale, ragged, and 
 hungry, and several o' them lame and 
 w^ounded ; and they had athegither sic a 
 haggard severity i' their demeaner. Lord 
 forgie me, gin I wasna feared to look at 
 them ! There was ane o' them a doctor 
 blade, wha soon set the poor chield's arm ; 
 and he said, that after a' it wasna broken, 
 but only dislockit and sair brizzed. That 
 doctor was the gabbiest body ever I met j 
 wi' ; he spake for them a', and I whiles fear- 
 
 \0L, I. c
 
 50 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK# 
 
 ed that he sclented a wee. He tried a' that 
 he could to make me a Cameronian, but I 
 wadna grip ; and when I was coming away 
 to leave him, * Laidlaw,' quo' he, ' we ken 
 ye to be an honest, honourable man ; here 
 you see a remnant of poor, forlorn, misre- 
 presented creatures, who have thrown them- 
 selves on your mercy ; if ye betray us, it 
 will be the worse for ye both here and here- 
 after ; if you save and protect us, the pray- 
 ers of the just win their way to Heaven, 
 though fiends should be standing by to op- 
 pose them — Ay, there's naething can stop 
 ///<??> journey, Laidlaw ! — The winds canna 
 blaw them aside, the clouds canna drown 
 them, and the lights o' Heaven canna burn 
 them ; and your name will stand at that bar 
 where there's nae cruel and partial judge — 
 AVhat you gie to us, ye gie to your Maker, 
 and he will repay you seven fold.' Od, the 
 body was like to gar me play the bairn and 
 greet even out. Weel, I canna mind the 
 half that he said, but he endit wi' this : —
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 51 
 
 ♦ We have seen our friends all bound, ba* 
 nished, and destroyed ; they have died on 
 the field, on the scaffold, and at the stake ; 
 but the reek o' their blood shall drive the 
 cruel Stuarts frae the land they have dis- 
 graced, and out of it a church of truth and 
 liberty shall spring. There is still a handfu' 
 remaining in Israel that have not yet bow- 
 ed the knee to Baal, nor yet kissed him — 
 That remnant has fled here to escape the 
 cruelty of man j but a worse fate threatens 
 us now — we are all of us perishing with fa* 
 mine — For these three days we have tasted 
 nothing but the green moss, save a few 
 wretched trouts, eels, and adders,' ' Ethers, 
 man T quo' I,—* For the love o' God take 
 care how ye eat the ethers — ye may as weel 
 cut your throats at aince as eat them, Na, 
 na, lad, that's meat that will never do.' I 
 said nae mair, but gae just a wave to my 
 dog. ' Reaver,' quo' I, « yon's away.' — 
 In three minutes he had ten score o' ewes 
 and wedders at my hand. I grippit twa o' 
 
 UBHAfTf 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLflWlS
 
 52 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 the best I could wale, and cut aff their heads 
 wi' my ain knife. * Now, doctor,' quo' I, 
 * take these and roast them, and part them 
 amang ye the best way ye can — ye'Il find 
 them better than the ethers — Lord, man, 
 it will never do to eat ethers.' " 
 
 After a hearty laugh, in which his guests 
 generally joined, Walter concluded thus : 
 «« That meeting cost me twa or three hun- 
 der round bannocks, and mae gude ewes 
 and wedders than Til say ; but I never 
 missed them, and I never rued what I did. 
 Folk may say as they like, but I think aye 
 the prayers out amang the hags and rash- 
 bushes that year did me nae ill — It is as 
 good to hae a man's blessing as his curse, 
 let him be what he may." 
 
 Walter never went farther with his story 
 straight onward than this ; for it began to 
 involve family concerns, which he did not 
 much like to recount. He had a number 
 of abstract stories about the Covenanters 
 and their persecutors j but as I must now
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 53 
 
 proceed with the narrative as I gathered it 
 from others, these will be interwoven in 
 their due course.
 
 54 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Walter visited them next day at the 
 time and place appointed, taking with him 
 a dozen of bannocks and a small cheese. 
 These he was obliged to steal out of his 
 own pantry, for he durst not by any means 
 trust his wife and family with the discovery 
 he had made, knowing that he might as 
 well have confided it with the curate him- 
 self, the sworn enemy of his motley prote- 
 gees. They gathered around him with pro- 
 testations of gratitude and esteem ; for the 
 deserted and oppressed generally cling to 
 the first symptoms of friendship and pro- 
 tection with an ardency that too often over- 
 shoots its aim. Walter naturally felt an ho- 
 nest pride, not so much in that he had
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 55 
 
 done, as that he intended to do ; but be- 
 fore he produced his repast, he began in a 
 most serious way to question them relating 
 to some late incidents already mentioned. 
 They all with one assent declared, and 
 took God to witness, that they knew no- 
 thing at all about the death of the five sol- 
 diers ; that it was not perpetrated by them, 
 nor any connected with them ; nor could 
 they comprehend, in the least degree, how 
 it was effected, if not by some supernatural 
 agency — a judgment sent down from Hea- 
 ven for their bloody intent. With regard 
 to the murder of the priest, they were sor- 
 ry that they knew so much. It was perpe- 
 trated by a few rash men of their number, 
 but entirely without their concurrent as- 
 sent, as well as knowledge ; that though 
 his death might have been necessary to the 
 saving of a great number of valuable lives, 
 they had, nevertheless, unanimously pro- 
 tested against it ; that the perpetrators had 
 retired from their body, they knew not 
 whither 5 and that at that very time the
 
 56 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 Rev. Messrs Alexander Shiels and James 
 Ren wick were engaged in arranging for 
 publication a general protest against many- 
 things alleged against them by their ene- 
 mies, and that among others.* 
 
 * This curious protest is still extant^ and shows the 
 true spirit of the old Covenanters or Camcronians, as 
 they have since been called, better than any work re- 
 maining. It is called in the title page, **^ An informa" 
 tory Vindication of a -poor, Xi:asted, misrejjresented Reni" 
 nant of the siiffering j^nti-popish, jinti-prelatic^ ^nti" 
 erastian, Anti-sectarian ^ true Presbyterian Church of 
 Christ in Scotland. It is dated at Leadhills in 1687, and 
 is the conjoint work of Mr James Renwick, and Mr 
 Alexander Shiel?, author of The Hind let loose. The 
 following is an extract from it, p. 107 : — 
 
 " And in hke manner we do hereby disclaim all un- 
 warrantable practices committed by any few persons 
 reputed to be of us, whereby the Lord hath been of- 
 fended, his cause wronged, and we all made to endure 
 the scourge of tongues ; for which things we have de- 
 sired to make conscience of mourning before the Lord, 
 both in public and private. As the unwarrantable man- 
 ner of killing that curate at the Corsephairn, though 
 he was a man of death both by the laws of God and
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 57 
 
 There was a candour in this to which 
 Walter's heart assented. He feasted them 
 with his plentiful and homely cheer — pro- 
 mised to visit them every day, and so to 
 employ his shepherds that none of them 
 should come into that quarter to distress 
 them. Walter was as good as his word — 
 He visited them every day — told them all 
 
 man, and the fact not materially murder; it being 
 gone about contrary to our declaration, common or 
 competent consent,, (the conclusion and deed being 
 known only to three or four persons) in a rash and not 
 a Christian manner, and also other offences being com- 
 mitted at the time ; which miscarriages have proven a 
 mean to stop and retard lawful, laudable, and warrant- 
 able proceeding, both as to matter and manner." 
 
 These other offences committed at the timet unques- 
 tionably refer to the slaughter of the Highland sol- 
 diers ; about which, there was great stir and numerous 
 conjectures in the country ; although, owing to the re- 
 volution that immediately followed, the perpetrators 
 were never taken, nor the cause tried in a court of jus- 
 tice, nor indeed was the incident ever generally known. 
 c 2
 
 58 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 the news that he could gather of the troops 
 that beleagured them — of the executions 
 that were weekly and daily taking place — 
 and of every thing else relating to the state 
 of the country. He came loaden with food 
 to them daily ; and when he found it im- 
 possible to steal his own bread, butter, 
 and cheese, he supplied their wants from 
 his flock. The numbers of the persecuted 
 increased on his hands incalculaljly — The 
 gudewife of Chapelhope's bannocks vanish- 
 ed by scores, and the unconscionable, insa- 
 tiable Brownie of Bodsbeck was blamed 
 for the whole. 
 
 Some time previous to this, a youna: va- 
 grant, of the name of Kennedy, chanced to 
 be out on these moors shooting grouse, 
 which were extremely plentiful. He tarried 
 until the twilight, for he had the art of 
 calling the heath-fowl around him in great 
 numbers, by imitating the cry of the hen. 
 He took his station for this purp se in one 
 of those u'oss-hags formerly (iesrnhed ; l»ut 
 he had not well begun to call ere his ears
 
 THE 13 ROW VIE OF BODSBECK. 59 
 
 were saluted by the whistling of so many 
 plovers tliat he could not hear his Ovvn 
 voice. He was r^bliged to desist, and lay 
 for some time listening, in expectation that 
 they would soon cease crying. When lying 
 thus, he heard distinctly the sound of some- 
 thing like human voices, that spoke in 
 whispers hard by him ; he likewise imagi- 
 ned that he heard the pattering of feet, 
 which he took for those of horses, and, con- 
 vinced that it was a raid of the fairies, he 
 became mortally afraid ; he crept closer to 
 the earth, and in a short time heard a swell 
 of the most mellifluous music that ever rose 
 on the night. He then got up, and fled 
 with precipitation away, as he thought, from 
 the place whence the music seemed to 
 arise ; but ere he had proceeded above an 
 hundred paces, he met with one of the 
 strangest accidents that ever happened to 
 man. 
 
 That same night, about, or a little before, 
 the hour of midnight, two of Laidlaw's men, 
 M'ho happened to be awake, imagined that
 
 60 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 they heard a sh'ght noise without j tliey 
 arose, and looked cautiously out at a small 
 hole that v;as in the end of the stable where 
 they slept, and beheld to their dismay the 
 appearance of four men, who came toward 
 them carrying a coffin ; on their coming 
 close to the corner of the stable, where the 
 two men stood, the latter heard one of 
 them say distinctly, in a whisper, " Where 
 shall we lay him ?" 
 
 ** We must leave him in the barn," said 
 another. 
 
 " I fear," said a third, " the door of that 
 will be locked j" and they past on. 
 
 The men were petrified ; they put on 
 their clothes, but they durst not move, un- 
 til, in a short time thereafter, a dreadful 
 bellowing and noise burst forth about the 
 door of the farm-house. The family was 
 alarmed, and gathered out to see what was 
 the matter; and behold! there lay poor 
 Kennedy in a most piteous phght, and, in 
 fact, stark staring mad. He continued in 
 a high fever all the night, and the next
 
 THE BilOWNIE OF BODSBECK, 61 
 
 morning ; but a little after noon he became 
 somewhat more calm, and related to them 
 a most marvellous tale indeed. 
 
 He said, that by the time he arose to 
 fly from the sound of the music, the moor 
 was become extremely dark, and he could 
 not see with any degree of accuracy where 
 he was running, but that he still continued 
 to hear the sounds, which, as he thought, 
 came still nigher and nigher behind him. 
 He was, however, mistaken in this conjee, 
 ture ; for in a short space he stumbled on 
 a hole in the heath, into which he sunk at 
 once, and fell into a pit which he described 
 as being at least fifty fathom deep ; that he 
 there found himself immediately beside a 
 multitude of hideous beings, with green 
 clothes, and blue faces, who sat in a circle; 
 round a small golden lamp, gaping and 
 singing with the most eldrich yells. In 
 one instant all became dark, and he felt a 
 weight upon his breast that seemed heavier 
 than a mountain. They then lifted him up, 
 and bore him away through the air for
 
 62 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 hundreds of miles, amid regions of utter 
 darkness ; but on his repeating the name of 
 Jesus three times, the) brought him back, 
 and laid him down in an insensible state at 
 the door ol Chapelhope. 
 
 The feelings depicted in the features of 
 the auditors were widely different on the 
 close of this wonderful relation. The 
 beauteous Katharine appeared full of an- 
 xious and woful concern, but no marks of 
 fear appeared in her lovely face. The ser- 
 vants trembled every limb, and declared 
 with one voice, that no man about Chapel- 
 hope w^as now sure of his life for a moment, 
 and that nothing less than double wages 
 should induce them to remain there another 
 day. The good wife litted up her eyes to 
 Heaven, and cried, '* O the vails I the 
 vails ! — the vails are poured, and to pour !" 
 
 Walter pretended to laugh at the whole 
 nai ration ; but when he did, it was with an 
 altered countenance, for he observed, what 
 none of them did, that Kennedy haa in- 
 deed been borne through the air by some 
 8
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 6S 
 
 means or other ; for his shoes were all co- 
 vered with moss, which, if he had walked, 
 could not have been there, for the grass 
 would have washed it off from whatever 
 quarter he had come. 
 
 Kennedy remained several davs about 
 Chapelhope in a thoughtful, half deUnous 
 frame ; but no entreaties could prevail with 
 him at that time to accompany the men of 
 the place to where he supposed the acci- 
 dent had happened, nor yet to give them 
 any account where it was situated, for he 
 averred that he heard a voice say to him 
 in a solemn tone, '* If you wish to live 
 long, never tell what you have seen to- 
 night, nor ever come this way again." 
 Happy had it been for him had he at- 
 tended all along to this injunction. He 
 slipped away from Chapelhope in a tew 
 da)s, and was no more seen until the time 
 that Copland and his men appeared there. 
 It was he who came r^s guide to tht sol- 
 diers that were slain, and he tell with them
 
 64 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 in the strait linn of the South Grain of 
 Chapelhope, 
 
 These mysterious and unaccountable 
 incidents by degrees impressed the minds 
 of the inhabitants with terror that cannot 
 be described ; no woman or boy would 
 go out of doors after sunset, on any 
 account whatever, and there was scarce- 
 ly a man who durst venture forth alone 
 after the fall of evening. If they could 
 have been sure that brownies and fairies 
 had only power to assume the human 
 shape, they w^ould not have been nearly 
 in such peril and perplexity ; but there 
 was no form of any thing animate or in- 
 animate, save that of a lamb, that they 
 were sure of ; they were of course waylaid 
 at every turn, and kept in continual agita- 
 tion. An owl was a most dangerous and 
 suspicious-looking fellow — a white glede 
 made them quake, and keep a sharp look- 
 out upon his course in the air — a hare, 
 with her large intelligent eyes and equivo- 
 cal way of walking, was an object of gene- 
 1
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 65 
 
 ral distrust— and a cat, squalling after dark, 
 was the devil. Many were the ludicrous 
 scenes that occurred, among which I can- 
 not help mentioning those which follow, as 
 being particularly whimsical. 
 
 Jasper, son to old John of the Muchrah, 
 was the swiftest runner of his time ; but of 
 all those whose minds were kept in conti- 
 nual agitation on account of the late inun- 
 dation of spirits into the country, Jasper 
 was the chief. He was beset by them 
 morning and evening ; and even at high 
 noon, if the day was dark, he never consi- 
 dered himself as quite safe. He depended 
 entirely upon his speed in running to avoid 
 their hellish intercourse ; he essayed no 
 other means — and many wonderful escapes 
 he effected by this species of exertion alone. 
 He was wont to knit stockings while tend- 
 ing his flock on the mountains ; and hap- 
 pening to drop some yarn one evening, it 
 trailed after him in a long ravelled coil 
 along the sward. It was a little after the 
 sun had gone down that Jasper was coming
 
 66 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 whistling and singing over the shoulder of 
 the Hermon-Law, when, chancing to cast 
 a casual glance behind him, he espied 
 something in shape of a horrible serpent, 
 with an unequal body, and an enormous 
 length of tail, coming stealing along the 
 bent after him. His heart leapt to his 
 mouth, (as he expressed it,) and his hair 
 bristled so that it thrust the bonnet from 
 his head. He knew that no such monster 
 inhabited these mountains, and it moment- 
 ly occurred to him that it was the Brownie 
 of Bodsbeck come to seize him in that most 
 questionable shape. He betook him to his 
 old means of safety in great haste, never 
 doubting that he was well qualified to run 
 from any object that crawled on the ground 
 with its belly ; but, after running a consi- 
 derable way, he perceived his adversary 
 coming at full stretch along the hill after 
 him. His speed was redoubled ; and, as 
 he noted now and then that his inveterate 
 pursuer gained no ground on him, his exer- 
 tion was beyond that of man. There were
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 6? 
 
 two shepherds on an opposite hill who saw 
 Jasper running without the plaid and the 
 bonnet, and with a swiftness which they 
 described as quite inconceivable. The 
 cause set conjecture at defiance ; but they 
 remarked, that though he grew more and 
 more spent, whenever he glanced behind 
 he exented himself anew, and strained a 
 little harder. He continued his perseve- 
 rance to the last, as any man would do who 
 was running for bare life, until he came to 
 a brook called the Ker Cleuch, in the cross- 
 ing of which he fell down exhausted ; he 
 turned on his back to essay a last defence, 
 and, to his joyful astonishment, perceived 
 that the serpent likewise lay still and did 
 net move. The truth was then discovered 5 
 but many suspected that Jasper never over- 
 came that heat and that fright as long as 
 he lived. 
 
 Jasper, among many encounters with the 
 fairies and brownies, had another that ter- 
 minated in a manner not quite so pleasant. 
 The Brownie of Bodsbeck, or the Queen
 
 68 THE I3R0WNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 of the Fairies, (he was not sure which of 
 them it was,) came to him one night as he 
 was lying alone, and wide awake, as he 
 conceived, and proflered him many fine 
 things, and wealth and honours in abun- 
 dance, if he would go along to a very fine 
 country, which Jasper conjectured must 
 have been Fairyland. He resisted all these 
 tempting offers in the most decided man- 
 ner, until at length the countenance of his 
 visitant changed from the most placid and 
 bewitching beauty to that of a fiend. The 
 horrible form grappled with him, laid hold 
 of both his wrists, and began to drag him 
 off by force j but he struggled with all the 
 energy of a man in despair, and at length, 
 by a violent exertion, he disengaged his 
 right hand. The enemy still continuing, 
 however, to haul him off with the other, he 
 was obliged to have recourse to a desperate 
 expedient. Although quite naked, he reach- 
 ed his clotlies with the one hand and drew 
 his knife ; but, in endeavouring to cut off 
 those fingers which held his wrist so immo-
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 69 
 
 vably fast, he fairly severed a piece of the 
 thumb from his owa left hand. 
 
 Tiiis was the very way that Jasper told 
 the story to his dying day, denying stoutly 
 that he was in a dream ; and, singular as it 
 may appear, I can vouch for the truth of it. 
 Jasper Hay died at Gattonside at a right 
 old age, in the year 1739 ; and they are 
 y€t alive who have heard him tell those 
 stories, and seen him without the thumb 
 of the left hand. 
 
 Things went on in this distracted and 
 doubtful manner until the time when Wal- 
 ter is first introduced. On that day, at the 
 meeting place, he found no fewer than 130 
 of the poor wanderers, many of them as- 
 sembled to see him for the last time, and 
 take an affectionate leave of him ; for they 
 had previously resolved to part, and scatter 
 themselves again over the west country, 
 even though certain death awaited them, 
 as they could not in conscience longer re- 
 main to be the utter ruin of one who was 
 so generous and friendly to them. They
 
 70 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 saw, that not only would his whole stock 
 be wasted, but he would himself be sub- 
 jected to confiscation of goods, and impri- 
 sonment, if to nothing worse. Walter said, 
 the case seemed hard either way ; but he 
 had been thinking, that perhaps, if they 
 remained quiet and inoffensive in that se- 
 clusion, the violence of the government 
 might in a little relax, and they might then 
 retire to their respective homes in peace. 
 Walter soon heard with vexation that they 
 made conscience o^ not living in peace, but 
 of proclaiming aloud to the world the grie- 
 vous wrongs and oppression that the church 
 of Christ in Scotland laboured under. The 
 doctor chap, as Walter always called him, 
 illustrated at great length the sin that 
 would lie to their charge, should they re- 
 main quiet and passive in a time like that, 
 when the church's all was at stake in these 
 realms. '* We are but a remnant," added 
 he, *' a poor despised remnant ; but if none 
 stand up for the truth of the reformed reli- 
 gion, how are ever our liberties, civil or
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 71 
 
 ecclesiastical, to be obtained ? There are 
 many who think with us, and who feel 
 with us, who yet have not the courage to 
 stand up for the truth ; but the time must 
 ere long come, that the kingdoms of the 
 land will join in supporting a reformation, 
 for the iniquity of the Amorite is wearing 
 to the full." 
 
 Walter did not much like disputing about 
 
 these matters ; but in this he felt that his 
 
 reason acquiesced, and he answered thus : 
 
 " Ye speak like a true man, and a clever 
 
 man. Doctor ; and if I had a desperate 
 
 cause by the end, and wanted ane to back 
 
 me in't, the deil a step wad I gang ayont 
 
 this moss hag to find him ; but. Doctor, 
 
 there's a time for every thing. I wadna 
 
 hae ye to fling away a gude cause, as I 
 
 wad do a rotten ewe, that winna baud ony 
 
 langer. But dinna ye think that a fitter 
 
 time may come to mak a push ? yell 
 
 maybe sell mae precious lives for nae end, 
 
 wi' your declarations ; take care that you, 
 
 and the like o' you, haena these lives to
 
 72 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 answer for. — I like nae desperate broostles 
 — od, man, it's like ane that's just gaun to 
 turn divour, taking on a' the debt he can." 
 " Dinna fear, gudenian ! dinna fear ! 
 There's nae blood shed in sic a cause that 
 can ever be shed in vain. Na, na ! that 
 blood will argue better at the bar o' Hea- 
 ven for poor distressed Scotland than all 
 the prayers of all the living. We hae done 
 muckle, but we'll do niair yet — muckle 
 blood has been wantonly and diabolically 
 shed, and our's may rin wi' the rest — we'll 
 no thraw't wantonly and exultingly away ; 
 but, when our day comes, we'll gie it chetr- 
 fully — as cheerfully, gudeman, as ever ye 
 paid your mail to a kind landlord, even 
 though the season had been hard and stor- 
 my. We had aince enough of this warld's 
 wealth, and to spare ; but we hae nae- 
 thing now but our blood, and we*ll part wi' 
 that as cheerfully as the rest. And it will 
 tell some day ! and ye may live to see it 
 yet* But enough, gudeman ; we have all 
 resolved, that, whatever the consequence
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 7S 
 
 may be, to live no more on your bounty — 
 therefore, do not urge it — but give us all 
 your hand — Farewell ! — and may God bless 
 you in all your actings and undertakings ! — 
 There is little chance that we shall ever 
 meet again — We have no reward to give 
 but our blessing and good wishes; but, 
 whenever a knee here present is bowed at 
 the footstool of grace, you will be remem- 
 bered." 
 
 Walter could not bear thus to part with 
 them, and to give them up as it were to 
 certain destruction. He argued as well as 
 he could on the imprudence of the step 
 they were going to take — of the impossibi- 
 lity of their finding a retreat so inaccessi- 
 ble in all the bounds of the south of Scot- 
 land, and the prospect that there was of 
 the persecution soon relaxing. But when 
 he had said all that he could say, a thin 
 spare old man, with grey dishevelled locks, 
 and looks, Walter said, as stern as the ad- 
 ders that he had lately been eating, rose 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 74 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 up to address him. There was that in his 
 manner which commanded the most in- 
 tense attention. 
 
 " Dost thou talk of our rulers relax- 
 ing ?" said he. " Blind and mistaken man ! 
 thou dost not know them. No ; they will 
 never relax till their blood shall be mix- 
 ed with their sacrifices. That insatiate, 
 gloomy, papistical tyrant and usurper, the 
 Duke of York, and his commissioner, have 
 issued laws and regulations more extermi- 
 nating than ever. But yesterday we re- 
 ceived the woeful intelligence, that, within 
 these eight days, one hundred and fifty of 
 our brethren have suffered by death or ba- 
 nishment, and nearly one-half of these have 
 been murdered, even without the sham for- 
 mality of trial or impeachment, nor had 
 they intimation of the fate that awaited 
 them. York hath said in full assembly, 
 * that neither the realm nor the mother- 
 church can ever be safe, until the south of 
 Scotland is again made a hunting forest j' 
 and his commissioner hath sworn by the
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 75 
 
 living God, * that never a whig shall again 
 have time or warning to prepare for Hea- 
 ven, for that hell is too good for them.' 
 Can we hope for these men relaxing ? No ! 
 The detestable and bloody Clavers, that 
 wizard ! that eater of toads ! that locust of 
 the infernal pit, hems us in closer and closer 
 on one side, and that Muscovite beast on 
 the other ! They thirst for our blood j and 
 our death and tortures are to them matter 
 of great sport and amusement. My name 
 is Mackail ! I had two brave and beautiful 
 sons, and I had but two ; one of these had 
 his brains shot out on the moss of Monyhive 
 without a question, charge, or reply. T ga- 
 thered up his brains and shattered skull with 
 these hands, tied them in my own napkin, 
 and buried him alone, for no one durst assist 
 me. His murderers stood by and mocked 
 me, cursed me for a dog, and swore if I 
 howled any more that they would send me 
 after him. My eldest son, my beloved 
 Hew, was hung like a dog at the Market- 
 cross of Edinburgh, 1 conversed with him,
 
 76 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 I prayed with him in prison, kissed him, 
 and bade him farewell on the scaffold ! 
 My brave, my generous, my beautiful son ! 
 I tell thee, man, thou who preachest up 
 peace and forbearance with tyrants, should 
 ever the profligate Charles, or his diaboli- 
 cal brother — should ever the murderer 
 Clavers, or any of his hell-hounds of the 
 north, dare set foot in Heaven, one look 
 from the calm benignant face of my mar- 
 tyred son would drive them out howling !" 
 
 All this time the old man shed not a 
 tear ; his voice was wildly solemn, but his 
 looks were mixed with madness. He had 
 up his hand to swear, to pray, or to pro- 
 phecy, Walter knew not which, but he was 
 restrained by his associates, and led aside, 
 so that Walter saw no more of him ; but he 
 said he could not get him out of his mind 
 for many a day, for sic another desperate 
 auld body he had never seen. 
 
 These harangues took up much of the 
 time that they had to spare, but ere they 
 parted Walter persuaded them, probably
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 77 
 
 by his strong homely reasoning, to remain 
 where they were. He said, since they 
 persisted in refusing to take more of his 
 flock, there was an extensive common be- 
 yond the height, called Gemsope, which 
 had been a royal forest, where many gen- 
 tlemen and wealthy farmers had sheep that 
 fed promiscuously j and considering their 
 necessitous circumstances, he thought it no 
 evil, and he advised them to go and take 
 from that glen as many as would serve to 
 support nature for a time; — that for hi5 part 
 he had many a good wedder and dinmont 
 there, and was willing to run his risk, which 
 would then fall equal on a number, and 
 only on such as were rich and could well 
 bear it. In this plan, after some scruples 
 which were overborne by the majority, 
 they at length fully and thankfully ac- 
 quiesced. 
 
 That same day, on his way homeward, 
 Walter heard the wonderful relation of the 
 apparition of his beloved daughter in the
 
 78 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 Hope at midnight j he learned that Clavers 
 would be there in a few days, and he had 
 sent away above 100 men to steal sheep — 
 all these things made him thoughtful and 
 uneasy after he had reached his home, wet 
 and fatigued. — " It will be a bloody night 
 in Gemsope this," he said, sighing, not re- 
 collecting what he said or to whom he said 
 it. He could trust his wife with any of his 
 family concerns, but as long as she conti- 
 nued to be so much influenced by the cu- 
 rate Clerk, the sworn enemy of his poor 
 persecuted flock, he durst not give her a 
 hint of their retreat. 
 
 Walter became still more and more per- 
 plexed from all that he heard from his wife, 
 as well as from every one else — he found 
 that, in truth, there was some mysterious 
 thing about his house — the whole family 
 seemed convinced of it — there were many 
 things seen, heard, and done there that he 
 could in nowise account for in a rational 
 way, and though he resisted the general
 
 THE BttOWNIE OF BODSBECK. 79 
 
 belief for a good while, that the house was 
 haunted, circumstances at length obliged 
 him to yield to the torrent, and he believed 
 as faithfully in the Brownie of Bodsbeck 
 as any of them all.
 
 80 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The house which Walter occupied was 
 on the very spot where the farm-house of 
 Chapelhope now stands, but it was twice 
 as long ; indeed, a part of the house that 
 is still standing, or was lately so, is the very 
 one that was built for Laidlaw when he 
 first entered to that large farm. There 
 was likewise an outshot from the back of 
 the house, called the Old Room, which had 
 a door that entered from without, as well 
 as one from the parlour within. The end 
 of this apartment stood close to the bottom 
 of the steep bank behind the house, which 
 was then thickly wooded, as was the whole 
 of the long bank behind, so that, conse- 
 quently, any one, with a little caution.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK* SI 
 
 might easily have gone out or come ia 
 there, without being seen by any of the fa- 
 mily. It contained a bed, in which any 
 casual vagrant, or itinerant pedlar slept, be- 
 sides a great deal of lumber ; and as few 
 entered there, it had altogether a damp, 
 mouldy, dismal appearance. There was 
 likewise a dark closet in one corner of it, 
 with an old rusty lock, which none of the 
 family had ever seen opened. 
 
 The most part of the family soon grew 
 suspicious of this place. Sounds, either 
 real or imaginary, were heard issuing from 
 it, and it was carefully shunned by them 
 all. Walter had always, as I said, mocked 
 at the idea of the Old Room being haunted, 
 until that very night when we began with 
 him, and where, after many round-abouts, 
 we have now found him again. 
 
 It will be recollected that the conversa- 
 tion between Walter and his wife, which is 
 narrated in the first chapter of this book, 
 terminated with a charge from him never 
 more to mention the mysterious story relar 
 d2
 
 82 THE BROWNIE OF CODSBECK. 
 
 ting to their daughter and these five men 
 that were destroyed. After this she reti- 
 red about some housewife business, and 
 left Walter by himself to muse on that he 
 had seen and heard. He was sitting mu- 
 sing, and that deeply, on the strange ap- 
 parition of his daughter that old John had 
 seen, when he thought he heard something 
 behind him making a sound as if it growl- 
 ed inwardly. He looked around and saw 
 that it was his dog Reaver, who was always 
 an inmate of every place that his master 
 entered — he was standing in an attitude of 
 rage, but at the same time there was a mix. 
 ture of wild terror in his appearance — His 
 eyes, that gleamed like red burning coals, 
 were pointed directly to the door that open- 
 ed from the corner of the parlour into the 
 Old Room — Walter was astonished, for he 
 well knew his acuteness, but he kept his 
 eyes on him and said not a word — The dog 
 went forward with a movement scarce per- 
 ceptible, until he came close to the door, 
 but on putting his nose and ear to the bot-
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 83 
 
 torn of it, he burst out with such a bay and 
 howl as were truly frightful, and ran about 
 the apartment as if mad, trying to break 
 through the walls and window boards. — 
 Walter was fairly overcome ; there is no- 
 thing frightens a shepherd so much as the 
 seeing of his dog frightened. The shep- 
 herd's dog of the true breed will boldly at- 
 tack any animal on earth in defence of his 
 master, or at his command ; and it is no 
 good sign indeed when he appears terrified, 
 for the shepherd well knows that his dog 
 can discover spirits by the savour of the 
 wind, when he is all unconscious that any 
 such beings are near. 
 
 Walter fled into the kitchen with preci- 
 pitation — he found all the family standing 
 in alarm, for they had heard the hideous 
 uproar in the room. 
 
 " What's the matter ?" said half-a-dozen 
 at once. 
 
 " What's the matter !" said Walter, churl- 
 ishly — « nothing at all is the matter — tell
 
 84 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 me who of you were in the Old Room, and 
 what you were seeking there ?" 
 
 " No — none of them had been in the 
 Old Room — the whole of the family were 
 present, nor had one of them been away.'* 
 Walter's countenance changed — he fix- 
 ed his eyes on the ground for the space of 
 a minute. 
 
 «* Then I am sure," said he, emphatical- 
 ly, *^ something worse is there." 
 
 A breathless silence ensued ; save that 
 some groans and muttered prayers issued 
 from the lips of the goodwife, who sat in a 
 posture of deep humility, with her brow 
 leaned on both hands. 
 
 " Some of you go and see," added Wal- 
 ter, " what it is that is in the Old Room." 
 Every eye in the house turned on an- 
 other, but no one spoke or offered to move. 
 At length Katharine, who seemed in great 
 anxiety lest any of them should have had 
 the courage to go, went lightly up to her 
 father, and said, «< I will go, sir, if you 
 please.'*
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 85 
 
 ** Do, my dear, and let some of the men 
 go with you." 
 
 " No, sir 5 none of the men shall go with 
 me." 
 
 " Well then, Keatie, make haste ; light a 
 candle, and I will go with you myself." 
 
 « No — with your leave, father, if I go, 
 I go alone ; no one shall go with me." 
 
 " And why, my love, may not I, your 
 father, accompany you ?" 
 
 " Because, should you go with me into 
 the Old Room just now, perhaps you might 
 never be yourself again." 
 
 Here the goodwife uttered a smothered 
 scream, and muttered some inarticulate 
 ejaculations, appearing so much affected, 
 that her daughter, dreading she would fall 
 into a fit, flew to support her ; but on this 
 she grew ten times worse, screaming aloud, 
 «< Avoid thee, Satan ! avoid thee, Satan ! 
 avoid thee, imp of darkness and despair ! 
 avoid thee ! avoid thee I" And she laid 
 about her violently with both hands. The 
 servants, taking it for granted that she was
 
 86 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 bewitched, or possessed, fled aloof; but 
 Walter, who knew better how matters stood 
 with her mind than they, ran across the 
 floor to her in such haste and agitation, 
 that they supposed he was going to give 
 her strength of arm^ (his great expedient 
 when hardly controuled,) but in place of 
 that, he lifted her gently in his arms, and 
 carried her to her bed, in the further end 
 of the house. 
 
 He then tried to sooth her by every 
 means in his power ; but she continued in 
 violent agitation, sighing, weeping, and 
 praying alternately, until she wrought her- 
 self into a high nervous fever. Walter, 
 growing alarmed for her reason, which 
 seemed verging to a dangerous precipice, 
 kept close by her bed-side. A little before 
 midnight she grew calm ; and he, thinking 
 she had fallen asleep, left her for a short 
 time. Unfortunately, her daughter, drawn 
 toward her by filial regard and affection, 
 softly then entered the room. Maron Linton 
 was not so sound asleep as was supposed j she
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 87 
 
 instantly beheld the approach of that now 
 dreaded sorceress, and sitting up in her 
 bed, she screamed as loud as she was able. 
 Katharine, moved by a natural impulse, 
 hasted forward to the couch to calm her 
 parent ; but the frenzied matron sprung 
 from her bed, threw up the window, and 
 endeavoured to escape ; Katharine flew af- 
 ter her, and seized her by the waist. When 
 Maron found that she was fairly in her 
 grasp at such an hour, and no help at hand, 
 she deemed all over with her, both body 
 and soul ; which certainly was a case .ex- 
 treme enough. She hung by the sash of 
 the window, struggled, and yelled out, 
 ** Murder ! murder ! murder ! — O Lord ! 
 O Lord ! — save ! save ! save 1 save ! — Mur- 
 der ! murder 1" &c. At length Walter rush- 
 ed in and seized her, ordering his weeping 
 daughter instantly to bed. 
 
 Maron thanked Heaven for this wonder- 
 ful and timely deliverance, and persuaded 
 now that Providence had a special and pe- 
 cuUar charge over her, she became more
 
 88 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 calm than she had been since the first 
 alarm ; but it was a dreadful certainty that 
 she now possessed, that unearthly beings 
 inhabited the mansion along with her, and 
 that her daughter was one of the number, 
 or in conjunction with them. She spent 
 the night in prayer, and so fervent was she 
 in her devotions, that she seemed at length 
 to rest in the hope of their final accomplish- 
 ment. She did not fail, however, to hint 
 to Walter that something decisive ought to 
 be done to their daughter. She did not 
 actually say that she should be burnt alive 
 at a stake, but she spake of the trial by fire 
 — or that it might be better to throw her 
 into the lake, to make the experiment whe- 
 ther she would drown or not ; for she well 
 expected, in her own mind, that when 
 the creature found itself in such circum- 
 stances, it would fly off with an eldrich 
 laugh and some unintelHgible saying to its 
 own clime ; but she was at length persua- 
 ded by her husband to intrust the whole 
 matter to her reverend monitor, both as to
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 89 
 
 the driving away the herd of Brownies, and 
 the exorcism of her daughter. 
 
 Never was man in such a predicament 
 as Walter now found himself with regard to 
 his family. Katharine had never been a 
 favourite with her mother, who doated on 
 her boys to the detriment of the girl, but to 
 him she was all in all. Her demeanour of 
 late completely puzzled him — The words 
 that she had said to him the preceding 
 evening had no appearance of jocularity ; 
 besides, seriousness and truth formed her 
 natural character, and she had of late be- 
 come more reserved and thoughtful than 
 she had ever been before. 
 
 The bed that she slept in faced into the 
 parlour before mentioned ; that which Wal- 
 ter and his spouse occupied entered from 
 another apartment — their backs, however, 
 were only separated by a thin wooden par- 
 tition. Walter kept awake all that night, 
 thoughtful, and listening to every sound. 
 Every thing remained quiet till about the 
 second crowing of the cock j he then heard
 
 90 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 something that scratched like a rat, but 
 more regularly, and in more distinct time. 
 After the noise had been repeated three 
 times at considerable intervals, he thought 
 he heard his daughter rising from her bed 
 with extraordinary softness and caution — 
 He laid his ear to a seam, and distinctly 
 heard the sound of words uttered in a 
 whisper, but of their import he could make 
 nothing. He then heard his daughter re- 
 turn to her bed with the same caution that 
 she left it, utter some sighs, and fall sound 
 asleep. 
 
 After serious deliberation, Walter thought 
 his best expedient was to remove his daugh- 
 ter from home for some time ; and next 
 morning he proposed to her to go and spend 
 a week or two with her maternal uncle, 
 Thomas Linton, farmer at Gilmanscleuch. 
 To this she objected on several pretences ; 
 but at length, when urged to it, positively 
 refused to leave her father's house at that 
 time. He never in his life could say a harsh 
 word to her, but that day he appeared
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 91 
 
 chagrined, and bade her, with some asperi- 
 ty, keep away from her mother's presence, 
 as her malady, which was a nervous com- 
 plaint, required the utmost quietness. This 
 she promised with her accustomed cheer- 
 fulness, and they parted. During the day 
 she was absent for several hours, none 
 knowing whither she went, or by what way 
 she returned. 
 
 On the same day, the servants, who had 
 spent a sleepless night, packed up bag and 
 baggage, and went off in a body, all save 
 one elderly woman, who had lately come to 
 the house, and was a stranger to them all. 
 Her name, she said, was Agnes Alexander, 
 but she was better known by the familiar 
 one of Nanny Eishinder ; her former history 
 and connections were doubtful, but she was 
 of a cheerful complaisant temper, and al- 
 ways performed what she was ordered to do 
 without any remarks. Walter had hired her 
 at Moffat, in the fair called The Third Fri- 
 day ; and told Maron when he came home,
 
 92 THE BROWNIE OF EODSBECK. 
 
 that " he had hired a wastlin auldish quean, 
 wha, he beheved, was a wee crackit i'the 
 head, but, poor thing, she wasna Hke to 
 get a place, and was sic a good soul he 
 coudna think to leave her destitute ; and 
 whanever he begoud to parley wi' her, od, 
 she brought him to the neb o' the mire- 
 snipe directly." Saving this good woman, 
 all the house servants, man, woman, and 
 boy, deserted their service, and neither 
 promises nor threats could induce them to 
 stay another night about the town. They 
 said, " they might as weel bide i' hell ; they 
 "wad gang afore Gibby Moray, the king's 
 shirra, whanever he likit about it ; or, gin 
 he buid rather hae brawer burlymen, they 
 wad meet him face to face in the Parliment 
 Close." 
 
 Walter was now obliged to bring Jasper, 
 his young shepherd, down from the Much- 
 rah, to assist him in the labour of the farm 
 — the most unfit man in the world for a 
 haunted house. He knew that the Old Room
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 93 
 
 was frequented by his old adversary, the 
 Brownie of Bodsbeck, He likewise knew 
 that his young mistress was a witch, or 
 something worse, for the late servants had 
 told him, so that he had now a dangerous 
 part to act. Nevertheless, he came deter- 
 mined to take the bull by the horns ; for 
 as he and his father had stocks of sheep 
 upon the farm, they could not leave their 
 master, and he was never wont to disobey 
 him. He had one sole dependance — ^liis 
 swiftness of foot — that had never yet failed 
 him in eschewing them, save in the solitary 
 instance of the serpent. 
 
 On the first day of his noviceship as a 
 labourer, he and his master were putting 
 some ropes on the dwelling-house to keep 
 on the thatch. Jasper wanting something 
 whereon to stand, for that purpose, and 
 being within a few yards of the door of 
 the Old Room, and knowing that the tubs 
 stood there, thoughtlessly dashed into it 
 to bring out one to stand on j but he had 
 6
 
 94 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 not taken two steps within the door till he 
 beheld a human face, and nothing but a 
 face and a head, looking deliberately at 
 him. One would have thought that such a 
 man, seeing such a sight, would have cried 
 out, fled to his master on the other side of 
 the house, or into the kitchen to old Nanny. 
 Jasper did none of them all. He turned 
 round with such velocity that he fell — hast- 
 ed out at the door on all fours, and took to 
 the Piper-hill like a wild deer, praying fer- 
 vently all the way. His master saw him 
 from the ladder where he stood, and called 
 aloud after him, but he deigned not to heed 
 or look behir^d him — the head without the 
 body, and that at an ordinary distance from 
 the ground, was alone impressed on his 
 mind, and refused a share to any other con- 
 sideration. He came not back to the Cha- 
 pelhope that night. 
 
 Katharine, the young and comely friend 
 of the Brownie, having discovered that Jas- 
 per had been introduced to her familiar.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 95 
 
 and knowing his truth and simplicity of 
 heart, earnestly desired to sound him on 
 the subject. She knew he would return to 
 assist her father and brothers with the farm 
 labour, in their present strait, by a certain 
 hour next morning, and she waited on him 
 by the way. He came accordingly ; but 
 he knew her and her connections better 
 than she imagined. He tried to avoid her, 
 first by going down into the meadow, then 
 by climbing the hill ; but seeing that she 
 waylaid him both ways, and suspecting her 
 intentions to be of the very worst nature, 
 he betook him to his old expedient — fled 
 with precipitation, and returned to the 
 Muchrah. 
 
 Katharine could by no means compre- 
 hend this, and was particularly concerned 
 about it at this time, as she had something 
 she wished to reveal to him. Walter appear- 
 ed gloomy and discontented all that day. 
 The corn was ripe, but not a sheaf of it cut 
 down J — the hay was still standing on the
 
 96 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 meadow, the lint was to pull, the potatoes 
 to raise, the tar to bring home, and the 
 sheep to smear ; and there was no one left 
 to do all this but he and his two boys. The 
 gudewife, who used to bustle about and do 
 much household work, was confined to her 
 room. His daughter's character, her de- 
 meanour, and even her humanity, were be- 
 come somewhat doubtful, Walter was truly 
 in what he termed a picMed priminary, 
 
 Katharine, being still debarred all access 
 to her mother, began to dread that she 
 would be obliged^to leave her father's house; 
 and, in case of a last extremity, she be- 
 thought her of sounding the dispositions of 
 old Nanny. She was a character not easily 
 to be comprehended. She spoke much to 
 herself, but little to any other person- 
 worked so hard that she seldom looked up, 
 and all the while sung scraps of old songs 
 and ballads, the import of which it was 
 impossible to understand ; but she often 
 chaunted these with a pathos that seemed
 
 THE BaOWNIE OF BODSBECK. 97 
 
 to flow from the heart, and that never failed 
 to affect the hearer. She wore a russet 
 worsted gown, clouted shoes, and a quoif, 
 or mutch, upon her head, that was crimped 
 and plaited so close around her face that 
 very little of the latter was visible. In this 
 guise was Nanny, toiling hard and singing 
 her mournful ditty, when Katharine came 
 in and placed herself on a seat by her side. 
 
 " Nanny, this seems to be more than or- 
 dinary a busy day with you ; pray, what is 
 all this baking and boihng for ?" 
 
 " Dear bairn, dear bairn, what do I ken 
 — the like o' me maun do as we're bid- 
 den — guests are coming, my bairn — O, ay 
 —there's mony a braw an' bonny lad co- 
 ming this way — mony a ane that will gaur 
 a young thing's e'en stand i' back water — 
 
 " They are coming ! they are coming ! 
 
 Alak ! an* vvae's me ! 
 Though the sword be in the hand. 
 
 Yet the tear's in the e'e. 
 VOL. I. E
 
 9S THE BROWN'IE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 Is there blood in the moorlands 
 Where tlie wild burnies rin? 
 
 Or what gars the water 
 Wind reid down the lln ? 
 
 O billy, dear billy, 
 
 Your boding let be, 
 I'or it's nought but the reid lilt 
 
 That dazzles your e'e." 
 
 *' Prithee go on, Nanny ; let me hear 
 what it was that reddened the water ?" 
 
 •' Dear bairn, wlia kens ; sonae auld thing 
 an' out o' date ; but yet it is sae like the 
 da\s that we hae seen, ane wad think the 
 poetcr that made it had the .second sight. 
 Mony a w-ater as weel as the Clyde has 
 run reid wi' blude, an' that no sae iang sin' 
 s^yne ! — ay, an' the wild burnies too! I hae 
 seen them mysel leave a reid strip on the 
 sand an' tlie grey stanes — but the hoocjy 
 craw durstna pick thtie 1 — Dear bairn, has 
 the Chapelhope burn itsel never had the 
 
 hut r 
 
 Here Katharine's glance and Nanny's
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSEECK. 99 
 
 met each other,, but were as quickly with- 
 drawn, for they dreaded one another's con- 
 verse ; but they were soon relieved from that 
 dilemma by Nanny's melancholy chime — 
 
 " In yon green houm there sat a knight,— 
 An' the book lay open on his knee, 
 
 An' he laid his hand on his rusty sword. 
 An' turned to Heaven his watery e'e. 
 
 But in yon houm there is a kirk, 
 
 An' in that kirk there is a pew, 
 An' in that pew there sat a king, 
 
 Wha signed the deed we maun ever rue. 
 
 He wasna king o' fair Scotland, 
 
 Though king o' Scotland he should hae been, — 
 And he lookit north to the land he loved, 
 
 But aye the green leaves fell atween. 
 
 The green leaves fell, an' the river swell 'd. 
 An' the brigg was guardit to the key; 
 
 O, ever alak ! said Hamilton 
 
 That sic a day I should ever see i 
 
 As ever ye saw the rain d« wn fa*, 
 
 Or yet the arrow gae i'roai the bow — -
 
 lOO THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 '< No, that's not it — my memory is gane 
 wi' my last warldly hope — Hech ! dear 
 bairn, but it is a sad warld to live in, with- 
 out hope or love for ony that's in't — I had 
 aye some hope till now ! but sic a dream 
 as I had last night ! — I saw him aince 
 again — Yes, I saw him bodily, or may I 
 never steer aff this bit." — Here Nanny 
 sobbed hard, and drew her arms across her 
 eyes. — ^* Come, come," continued she, 
 «* gie me a bit sang, dear bairn, an' let it 
 be an auld thing — they do ane's heart gude 
 thae bits o' auld sangs." 
 
 " Rather tell me, Nanny — for we live 
 in ignorance in this wild place — what you 
 think of all that blude that has been shed 
 in our country since the killing-time be- 
 gan ? Do you think it has been lawfully 
 and rightfully shed ?" 
 
 " Wha doubts it, dear bairn ? — Wha 
 doubts that ?— But it will soon be ower now 
 — the traitors will soon be a' strappit and 
 strung — ay, ay — the last o' them will soon 
 be hackit and hewed, an' his bloody head
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 101 
 
 stannin ower the Wast Port — an' there will 
 be braw days than — we'll be a' right than." 
 Katharine sat silent and thoughtful, eye- 
 ing old Nanny with fixed attention ; but the 
 muscles of her contracted face and wild un- 
 stable eye were unintelligible. She there- 
 fore, with a desponding mien, went out, 
 and left the crazy dame to discourse and 
 sing to herself. Nanny ceased her baking, 
 stood upright, and listened to the maid's 
 departing steps, till judging her out of 
 hearing ; she then sung out, in what is now 
 termed the true bravura style, 
 
 " Then shall the black gown flap 
 
 0*er desk and true man ; 
 Then shall the horny cap 
 
 Shine like the new moon ; 
 An' the kist fu' o* whistles 
 
 That maks sic a cleary, 
 Lool away, bool away, 
 
 Till we grow weary. 
 
 Till we grow weary, &c. 
 
 Charlie, the cypher-man, 
 Drink till ye stew dame ;
 
 102 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 Jamie, the wafer-man, 
 
 Eat till ye ?pue t'nem ; 
 LauderdaiL' lick- o^y-f'udj 
 
 Binny and Gcordie, 
 Leish away, link away. 
 
 Hell is afore ye. 
 
 Hell is afore ye, &c> 
 
 Grneme will gano ower the brinks- 
 Down wi" a flaughter ; 
 
 Lagg an* Drumlandrick 
 Will soon follow after ; 
 
 Johnston and Lithgow, 
 Bruce and Macleary, 
 
 Scowder their harigalds, 
 Deils, ^vi' a bleery. 
 
 Till ye grow weary," drc. 
 
 In the mean time, Katharine, on hearing 
 the loud notes of the song, had returned 
 witliin the door to hsten, and heard the 
 most part of the hues and names distinct- 
 ly. She liad heard it once before, and the 
 singer reported it to be a new song, and 
 the composition of a young man who had 
 afterwards been executed in the Grass- 
 Market. How Nanny came ta sing such a
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 103 
 
 song, with so much seeming zest, after the 
 violent prelatic principles which she had 
 SO lately avowed, the maid could not well 
 comprehend, and she began to suspect 
 that there was n.ore in N:5nn}'s mind tiiaa 
 had yet been made manifest. Struck with 
 this thought, and ruminating upon it, she 
 continued standing in the same position, 
 and heard Nanny sometimes crooning, and 
 at other times talking rapidly and fervent- 
 ly to herself. After much incoherent mat- 
 ter, lines of psalms, &c. Katharine heard 
 with astonishment the following questions 
 and answers, in which two distinct voices 
 were imitated : — 
 
 ** Were you at the meeting of the traitors 
 at Lanark on the 12th of January ?" 
 
 '' I never was amang traitors that I was 
 certain of till this day — Let them take 
 that ! bloody fruesome beasts." 
 
 •* Were you at Lanark on that day ?" 
 
 " If you had been there you would have
 
 104 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 " D — n the old b — ! Burn her with 
 matches — squeeze her with pincers as long 
 as there's a whole piece of her together — 
 then throw her into prison, and let her lie 
 till she rot — the old wrinkled hag of h — ! 
 Good woman, I pity you ; you shall yet go 
 free if you will tell us where you last saw 
 Hamilton and your own goodman." 
 
 " Ye sail hing me up by the tongue first, 
 and cut me a' in collops while I'm hingin." 
 
 ** Burn her in the cheek, cut baith her 
 lugs out, and let her gae to h — her own 
 way." 
 
 After this strange soliloquy, the speaker 
 sobbed aloud, spoke in a suppressed voice 
 for some time, and then began a strain so 
 sweet and melancholy, that it thrilled the 
 hearer, and made her tremble where she 
 stood. The tune was something like the 
 Broom of Cowdenknows, the sweetest and 
 most plaintive of the ancient Scottish airs ; 
 but it was sung so slow, as to bear with it 
 a kind of solemnity.
 
 THE BaOWNTE OF BODSBECK. 105 
 
 ^ The kye are rowting in the lone, 
 
 The ewes bleat on the brae, 
 0, what can ail my auld gudeman, 
 
 He bides sae lang away ! 
 
 An* aye the Robin snng by the wud. 
 
 An' his note had a waesome fa' ; 
 An' the corbie croupit in the clud, 
 
 But he durstna light ava ; 
 
 Till out cam the wee grey moudiwort 
 
 Frae neath the hollow stane, 
 An' it howkit a grave for the auld grey head, 
 
 For the head lay a' its lane 1 
 
 But I will seek out the Robin's nest, 
 
 An* the nest of the ouzel shy, 
 For the siller hair that is beddit there 
 
 Maun wave aboon the sky." 
 
 The sentiments of old Nanny appeared 
 now to her young mistress to l^e more 
 doubtful than ever. Fain would she have 
 interpreted them tp be such as she wished, 
 but tlie path which that young female was 
 now obliged to tread required ^ circum- 
 E 2
 
 106 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK- 
 
 spection beyond her experience and dis- 
 cernment to preserve, while danger and 
 death awaited the slightest deviation.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 107 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 Next morning Clavers, with fifty dra- 
 goons, arrived at Chapelhope, where they 
 alighted on the green ; and putting their 
 horses to forage, he and Sir Thomas Li- 
 vingston, Captain Bruce, and Mr Adam 
 Copland, before mentioned, a gentleman 
 of Clavers' own troop, went straight into 
 the kitchen. Walter was absent at the hill. 
 The good wife was sitting lonely in the east 
 room, brooding over her trials and woes in 
 this life, and devising means to get rid of 
 her daughter, and with her of all the devour- 
 ing spiiits that haunted Chapelhope; con- 
 sequently the first and only person whom 
 the gentlemen found in the kitchen w^as 
 old Nanny. Clavers, w^ho entered first, 
 kept a shy and sullen distance, for he ne- 
 ver was familiar with any one ; but Bruce,
 
 108 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 who was a jocular Irish gentleman, and 
 well versed in harassing and inveigling tlie 
 ignorant country people to their destruc- 
 tion, made two low bows (almost to the 
 ground) to the astonished dame, and ac- 
 costed her as follows : *' How are you to- 
 day, mistress ? — 1 hope you are very well ?" 
 
 ** Thank ye kindly, sir," said Nanny, 
 curtseying in return ; " deed I'm no sae 
 weel as 1 hae been ; I hae e'en seen better 
 days ; but I keep aye the heart aboon, al- 
 though the achings and the stitches hae 
 been sair on me the year," 
 
 ** Lack-a-day ! I am so very sorry for 
 that ! — Where do they seize you ? about 
 the heart, I suppose? — Oh, dear soul! to 
 be sure you do not know how sorry 1 am 
 for your case— it must be so terribly bad ! 
 You should have the goodness to consult 
 your physicia'i, and get blood let." 
 
 <* Dear bairn, I hae nae blude to spare— 
 an' as for doctors, I haena muckle to lippen 
 to them. To be sure, they are whiles the 
 means, under Providence"—
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 109 
 
 " Oho !" said he, putting his finger to his 
 nose, and turning to his associates with a 
 wry face, — ** Oho ! the means under Pro- 
 vidence ! — a d-^d whig, by . Tell 
 
 me, my dear and beautiful Mistress Stitch- 
 aback, do you really believe in that bless* 
 ed thing, Providence ?" 
 
 " Do I believe in Providence ! — Did 
 ever ony body hear sic a question as that ? 
 Gae away, ye muckle gouk — d'ye think to 
 make a fool of a puir body ?" 
 
 So saying, she gave him a hearty slap on 
 the cheek ; at which his companions laugh- 
 ing, Bruce became somewhat nettled, and, 
 drawing out his sword, he pointed at the 
 recent stains of blood upon it. " Be so 
 good as to look here, my good lady," 
 said he, " and take very good note of all 
 that 1 say, and more ; for harkee, you must 
 either renounce Providence, and all that I 
 bid you renounce, — and you must, beside 
 that, answer all the questions that 1 shall 
 ever be after asking, — or, do you see, I am 
 a great doctor— this is my very elegant
 
 110 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 lance — and I'll draw the blood that shall 
 soon ease you of all yoiir stitches and 
 pains." 
 
 *' I dinna like your fleem ava, man — 'tis 
 rather ower grit for an auld body's veins. 
 But ye're surely some silly skemp of a fal- 
 low, to draw out your sword on a puir auld 
 woman. Dinna think, howanabee, that I 
 care for outher you or it. I'll let ye see 
 how little I mind ye ; for weel I ken your 
 comrades wadna let ye fash me, e'en though 
 ye were sae silly as to offer. Na, na ; d'ye 
 ever think that little bonny demure-looking 
 lad there wad suffer ye to hurt a woman ? — 
 I wat wad he no ! He has mair discreation 
 in his little finger than you hae i' your hale 
 bouk. — Now try me, master doctor — 111 
 nouther renounce ae thing that ye bid me, 
 nor answer ae question that ye speer at 
 me." 
 
 " In the first place, then, my good hearty 
 dame, do you acknowledge or renounce 
 the Covenant ?" *
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. Ill 
 
 *« Aha ! he's wise wha wats that, an' as 
 daft that speers." 
 
 •* Ay, or no, in a moment — No juggling 
 with me, old Mrs Skinflint." 
 
 " I'll tell ye what ye do, master — if ony 
 body speer at ye, gin aiild Nanny i' the 
 Chapelhope renounces the Covenant, shake 
 your head an* say ye dinna ken." 
 
 " And pray, my very beautiful girl, what 
 do you keep this old tattered book for ?" 
 
 " For a fancy,, to gar fools speer, an* 
 ye're the first — Come on now, sir, wi' your 
 catechis — Wally-dye man ! gin ye be nae 
 better a fighter than ye're an examiner, ye 
 may gie up the craft." 
 
 Bruce here bit his lip, and looked so 
 stern that Nanny, with a hysterical laugh, 
 ran away from him, and took shelter be- 
 hind Clavers. 
 
 " You are a d — d fool, Bruce," said he, 
 ** and constantly blundering. — Our busi- 
 ness here, mistress, is to discover, if possi- 
 ble, who were the murderers of an honest 
 curate, and some of our own soldiers that 
 5
 
 112 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK* 
 
 were slain in this neighbourhood while dis- 
 charging their duty ; if you can give us 
 any information on that subject, you shall 
 be well rewarded." 
 
 " Ye'll hear about the curate, sir— ye*ll 
 hear about him — he was found out to be a 
 ivarlock, and shot dead. — But ah, dear 
 bairn ! nane alive can gie you information 
 about the soldiers ! — It was nae human 
 hand did that deed, and there was nae e'e 
 out o' heaven saw it done — There wasna 
 a man that day in a' the Hope up an' down 
 •—that deed will never be fund out, unless 
 a spirit rise frae the dead an' tell o't — - 
 Muckle fear, an' muckle grief it has been 
 the cause o' here ! — But the men war a' de- 
 cently buried ; what raair could be done ?'' 
 
 " Do you say that my men were all de- 
 cently buried ?" 
 
 " Ay, troth, I wat we el, worthy sir, and 
 wi' the burial-service too. — My master and 
 mistress are strong king's folk." 
 
 " So you are not the mistress of this 
 house ?"
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 113 
 
 ** A bonny like mistress I wad be, for- 
 sooth — Na, na, my mistress is sittin be her- 
 sel ben the house there." With that, Nan- 
 ny fell a working and singing full loud — 
 
 ** Little wats she wha*s coming, 
 Little wats she wha*s coming, 
 Strath and Correy's ta'en the bent. 
 An' Ferriden an' a's coming ; 
 Knock and Craigen Sha's coming, 
 Keppoch an* Macraw's coming, 
 Clan-Mackinnon's ower the Kyle, 
 An' Donald Gun an* a's coming.'* 
 
 Anxious now to explore the rest of the 
 house, they left Nanny singing her song, 
 and entered the little parlour hastily, where, 
 finding no one, and dreading that some 
 escape might be effected, Clavers and Li- 
 vingston burst into the Old Room, and 
 Bruce and Copland into the other. In the 
 Old Room they found the beautiful witch 
 Katharine, with the train of her snow-white 
 joup drawn over her head, who looked as 
 if taken in some evil act by surprise, and
 
 11 1« THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 greatly confounded when she saw two gen- 
 tlemen enter her sanctuary in splendid uni- 
 forms. As they approached, she made a 
 slight curtsey, to which they deigned no 
 return ; but gouig straight up to her, C!a- 
 vers seized her by both wrists. *' And is 
 it, indeed, true," said he, '* my beautiful 
 shepherdess, that we have caught you at 
 your prayers so early this morning ?" 
 
 ** And what if you have, sir ?" returned 
 she, 
 
 «* Why, nothing at all, save that I ear- 
 nestly desire, and long exceedingly to join 
 with you in your devotional exercises," 
 laying hold of her in the rudest manner. 
 
 Katharine screamed so loud that in an 
 instant old Nanny was at their side, with 
 revenge gleaming from her half-shaded eyes, 
 and heaving over her shoulder a large 
 green- kale gully, with which she would 
 doubtless have silenced the renowned Dun- 
 dee for ever, had not Livingston sprung 
 forward with the utmost celerity, and 
 caught her arm just as the stroke was de-
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 115 
 
 scending. But Nanny did not spare her 
 voice ; she lifted it up with shouts on high, 
 and never suffered one yell to lose hearing 
 of another. 
 
 Walter, having just then returned from 
 the hill, and hearing the hideous uproar in 
 the Old Room, rushed into it forthwith to 
 see what was the matter. Katharine was 
 just sinking, when her father entered, 
 within the grasp of the gentle and virtuous 
 Clavers, The backs of both the knights 
 were towards Walter as he came in, and 
 they were so ei>gaged amid bustle and din 
 that neither of them perceived him, until he 
 was close at their backs. He was at least a 
 foot taller than any of them, and nearly as 
 wide round the chest as them both. In one 
 moment his immense fingers grasped both 
 their slender necks, almost meeting behind 
 each of their windpipes. They were ren- 
 dered powerless at once — they attempted 
 no more struggling with the women, for so 
 completely had Walter's gripes unnerved 
 them, that they could scarcely lift theiv
 
 116 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 arms from their sides ; neither could they 
 articulate a word, or utter any other sound 
 than a kind of choaked gasping for breath. 
 Walter wheeled them about to the light, 
 and looked alternately at each of them, 
 without quitting or even slackening his 
 hold. 
 
 " Gallants, wha ir ye ava? — or what's 
 the meanin' o' a' this unmencefu' rampa- 
 ging ?" 
 
 Sir Thomas gave his name in a hoarse 
 and broken voice ; but Clavers, whose nape 
 Walter's right hand embraced, and whose 
 rudeness to his daughter had set his moun- 
 tain-blood a-boiling, could not answer a 
 word. Walter, slackening his hold some- 
 what, waited for an answer, but none co- 
 ming — 
 
 ** Wha ir ye, I say, ye bit useless wea- 
 zel-blawn like urf that ye're ?" 
 
 The haughty and insolent Clavers was 
 stung with rage ; but seeing no immediate 
 redress was to be had, he endeavoured to 
 pronounce his dreaded name, but it was
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 11 7 
 
 in a whisper scarcely audible, and stuck in 
 his throat — '< Jo — o — o Graham,*' said 
 he. 
 
 " Jock Graham do they ca' ye ? — ^Ye're 
 but an unmannerly whalp, man. And ye're 
 baith king's officers too! — Weel, IMl tell 
 ye what it is, my denty clever callants 5 if 
 it warna for the blood that's i' your master's 
 veins, I wad nite your twa bits o' pows the- 
 gither." 
 
 He then threw them from him ; the one 
 the one way, and the other the other, and 
 lifting his huge oak staff, he strode out at 
 the door, saying, as he left them, — " Hech ! 
 are free men to be guidit this gate ? — I'll 
 step down to the green to your command- 
 er, an' tell him what kind o' chaps he keeps 
 about him to send into fock's houses. — 
 Dirty unmensefu' things !" 
 
 Clavers soon recovering his breath, and 
 being ready to burst with rage and indig- 
 nation, fell a cursing and fuming most vio- 
 lently J but Sir T. Livingston could scarce- 
 8
 
 118 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 ]y refrain from breaking out into a convul- 
 sion of laughter. Clavers had already de- 
 termined upon ample revenge, for the vio- 
 lation of all the tender ties of nature was 
 his delight, and wherever there was wealth 
 to be obtained, or a private pique to be re- 
 venged, there never was wanting sufficient 
 pretext in those days for cutting off mdi- 
 vidnals, or whole families, as it suited. On 
 the very day previous to that, the Earl of 
 Traquairhad complained, in company with 
 Clavers and his officers, of a tenant of his, 
 in a place called Bald, who would neither 
 cultivate his farm nor give it up. Captain 
 Bruce asked if he prayed in his family ? 
 The Earl answered jocularly, that he be- 
 lieved he did nothing else. Bruce said 
 that was enough ; and the matter passed 
 over without any fiarther notice. But next 
 morning, Bruce went out with four dra- 
 goons, and shot the farmer as he was going 
 out to his work. Instances of this kind are 
 numerous, if either history or tradition can
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 11§ 
 
 be in aught believed ; but in all the annals 
 of that age, there is scarcely a single in- 
 stance recorded of any redress having been 
 granted to the harassed country people for 
 injuries received. At this time, the word 
 of Argyle's rising had already spread, and 
 CI avers actually traversed the country more 
 like an exterminating angel, than a com- 
 mander of a civilized army. 
 
 Such were the men with whom Walter 
 had to do ; and the worst thing of all, he ( 
 was not aware of it. He had heard of such 
 things, but he did not believe them ; for 
 he loved his king and country, and there 
 was nothing that vexed him more than 
 hearing of aught to their disparagement ; 
 but unhickiiy his notions of freedom and 
 justice weie far above wliat the subjects of 
 that reign could count upon. 
 
 When Clavers and Livingstone entered 
 the Old Room, it will he remeaioered that 
 Btuce and Co[)land penetrated in'o the 
 other. There thev f'->und the jj;()odwife of 
 Ciiapelhope, neatly arcssed in her old-
 
 120 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 fashioned style, and reading on her BiblCj 
 an exercise in which she gloried, and of 
 which she was very proud. 
 
 Bruce instantly desired her " to lay that 
 very comely and precious book on the hot- 
 test place of all the beautiful fire, that was 
 burning so pleasantly with long crackling 
 peat J and that then he would converse 
 with her about things that were, to be sure, 
 of far greater and mightier importance." 
 
 " Hout, dear sir, ye ken that's no con- 
 sistent wi' natural reason — Can any thing 
 be o* greater importance than the tidings 
 o' grace an' salvation, an' the joys o' hea- 
 ven ?" 
 
 " Oho !** cried Bruce, and straddled 
 around the room with his face turned to 
 the joists. — " My dear Copland, did you 
 ever hear such a thing in all the days that 
 ever you have to live ? Upon my soul, the 
 old woman is talking of grace, and salva- 
 tion, and the joys of heaven too, by Saint 
 G — ! My dvarest honey and darling, will 
 you be so kind as stand up upon the soles
 
 THE BIIOWNIE OF BODSBECK. 121 
 
 of your feet, and let me see what kind of a 
 figure you will be in heaven. Now, by 
 the cross of Saint Patrick, I would take 
 a journey there to see you go swimming 
 through Heaven in that same form, with 
 your long waist, and plaitted quoif, and 
 that same charming face of yours. Och ! 
 och ! me ! what a vile she whig we have 
 got in this here corner ! — Copland, my 
 dear soul, I foresee that all the ewes and 
 kine of Chapelhope will soon be rouped at 
 the cross of Selkirk, and then what blessed 
 lawings we shall have ! Now my dear mis- 
 tress Grace, you must be after renouncing 
 the joys of heaven immediately ; for upon 
 my honour, the very sight of your face 
 would spoil the joys of any place whatever, 
 and the first thing you must do is to lay 
 that delightful old book with the beautiful 
 margin along the side of it, on the coals ; 
 but before you do that we shall sing to his 
 praise and glory from the 7th verse of the 
 149th psalm." 
 
 He then laid aside his helmet and sung 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 122 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 the psalm, giving out each line with a whine 
 that was truly ludicrous, after which he put 
 the Bible into the goodwife's hand, and de- 
 sired her, in a serious tone, instantly to lay it 
 on tlie fire. The captain's speech to his com- 
 panions about the ewes and kine of Chapel- 
 hope was not altogether lost on the con- 
 science of Maron Linton. It was not, as 
 she afterwards said, like water spilt upon 
 the ground, which cannot be gathered up 
 again. " Wh}^, dear sir," said she, " ye 
 ken, after a', that the beuk's naething but 
 paper an' ink, an' three shillings an' aught- 
 pence will buy as gude a ane frae Geordy 
 Dabson, the morn, an' if there be ony sin 
 in't, it will lye at your door, an' no at mine. 
 I'll ne'er haigel wi' my king's officer about 
 three and aughtpence." 
 
 So saying, Maron laid the Bible on the 
 fire, which soon consumed it to ashes. 
 
 " Now, may the devil take me," said 
 Bruce, " if I do not believe that you are a 
 true woman after all, and if so, my purse is 
 lighter by one half than it was ; but, my
 
 THE BROWNIE OF DODSBECK. 123 
 
 dear honey, you have the very individual 
 and genuine seeds of whiggism in your con- 
 stitution — You have, I will swear, been at 
 many a harmless and innocent conven- 
 ticle." 
 
 " Ye ken little about me, sir. — Gude 
 forbid that ever I countenanced sic traitors 
 to the kirk and state !" 
 
 " Amen ! say I ; but I prophecy and 
 say unto thee, that the first field-meeting 
 into which thou goest in the beauty of ho- 
 liness, thou shalt be established for ever 
 with thy one foot in Dan and the other in 
 Beersheba, and shalt return to thy respec-^ 
 tive place of abode as rank a whig as ever 
 swung in the Grass- Market." 
 
 A long dialogue next ensued, in which 
 the murder of the priest, Mass John Binram, 
 was discussed at full length, and by which 
 Bruce and Copland discerned, that supersti- 
 tious as Maron was, she told them what she 
 deemed to be the truth, though in a strange 
 round-about way. Just as they were be- 
 ginning to talk over the mysterious murder
 
 124! THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 of the soldiers, Claverhouse and Sir Thomas 
 joined them, and Bruce, turning round to 
 them, said, " My lord, this very honest 
 woman assures me, that she believes the 
 two principal murderers of the curate are 
 lying concealed in a linn not far hence, 
 and there seems to be little doubt but that 
 they must likewise have been concerned in 
 the murder of our soldiers." 
 
 Clavers, the horrors of whose execrations 
 are yet fresh in the memory of our peasants, 
 burst out as follows, to the astonishment 
 of Bruce, who was not aware of his cha- 
 grin, or of aught having befallen him. 
 
 " May the devil confound and d — n 
 them to hell ! — May he make a brander of 
 their ribs to roast their souls on !" 
 
 Maron Linton, hearing herself called a 
 good woman, and finding that she was ap- 
 proven of, could not refrain from interfe- 
 ring here. 
 
 " Dear sir, my lord, ye sudna swear that 
 gate, for it's unco ill-faur'd ye ken — an' at
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 125 
 
 ony rate, the deil canna damn naebody — 
 if ye will swear, swear sense." 
 
 The rage of the general, and the simpli- 
 city of the goodwife, was such an amusing 
 contrast, that the three attendants laughed 
 aloud. Clavers turned his deep grey eye 
 upon them, which more than the eye of any 
 human being resembled that of a serpent — 
 offence gleamed in it. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said he, " do you consi- 
 der where you are, and what you are about ? 
 Sacre ! am I always to be trysted with boys 
 and fools ?" 
 
 He then began and examined the good- 
 wife with much feigned deference and ci- 
 vility, which so pleased her that she told 
 him every thing with great readiness. She 
 was just beginning to relate the terrible, 
 but unfortunate story of the Browuiie of 
 Bodsbeck, and his train of officious spirits ; 
 of the meat which they devoured, and in 
 all probability would have ended the rela- 
 tion with the woeful connection between 
 the Brownie and her daughter, and the part
 
 126 THE BrtOWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 that she had taken in the murder of the 
 sol fliers, when Walter entered the room 
 with a discomposed mien, and gave a new 
 turn to the cornersation. But that event- 
 ful scene must be left to the next chapter.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 12' 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Walter, on coming to the troopers and 
 asking for their leader, soon discovered 
 how roughly he had treated Clavers ; and 
 it being so much the reverse of the recep- 
 tion he meant to have given him, he was 
 particularly vexed about it. Still he was 
 conscious that he had done nothing that 
 was wrong, nor any thing that it did not 
 behove a parent and a master of a family 
 to have done in the same circumstances ; 
 therefore there was nothing farther from 
 his intention than offering any apology. 
 He entered his own room, as he supposed 
 he had a good right to do, bluntly enough. 
 He indeed touched the rim of his bonnet 
 as he came in j but, seeing all the officers
 
 1£8 THE BROWKIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 covered, he stalked into the midst of them 
 with that immense circle of blue woolleil 
 on his head, which moved over their hel- 
 mets like a black cloud as he advanced, 
 Bruce, who was well used to insult the 
 peasantry \vith impunity, seeing Walter stri- 
 ding majestically by his general in this 
 guise, with his wonted forwardness and jo- 
 cularity lifted up his sword, sheathed as it 
 was, and with the point of it kicked oft" 
 Walter's bonnet. The latter caught it again 
 as it fell, and with his fist, he made Bruce's 
 helmet ring against the wall ; then again 
 fitting on his bonnet, he gave him such an 
 indignant and reproving look, that Bruce, 
 having no encouragement from the eye of 
 Clavers, resented it no farther than by say- 
 ing good-humouredly, ** Ton my body and 
 shoul, but the carle keeps his good-looking 
 head high enough." 
 
 " Copland," said Clavers, " desire Ser- 
 jeant Daniel Roy Macpherson, with eleven 
 troopers, to attend." They were instantly 
 at the door. " Seize and pinion that
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 129 
 
 haughty rebel, together with all his fami- 
 ly," said he, " and then go and search 
 every corner, chest, and closet in the 
 house ; for it is apparent that this is tlue 
 nest and rendezvous of the murdering fa- 
 natics who infest this country. Let the 
 rest of the soldiers guard the premises, 
 that none escape to the mountains with 
 tidhigs of our arrival. This good dame 
 we will first examine privately, and then 
 dispose of her as shall seem most meet." 
 
 The command was promptly obeyed. 
 Walter and all his family were taken into 
 custody, pinioned, and a guard set on 
 them ; the house was ransacked ^ and in 
 the meantime the general and his three 
 associates continued the examination of 
 the goodwife. Clavers observed that, on 
 the entrance of Walter before, she seemed 
 to be laid under some restraint, stopped 
 short in her narration, and said, " But 
 there's the gudeman ; he'll tell ye it wi' 
 mair preceesion nor me ;" and he had rio 
 doubt; if she were left tq herself, of wornd- 
 F 2
 
 ISO THE BUOWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 ing as much out of her as would condemn 
 her husband, or at least furnish a pretext 
 sufficient for the forfeiture of his wealth. 
 Clavers had caused to be sold, by public 
 roup, the whole stock on the farm of Phill- 
 hope, which belonged to Walter's brother- 
 in-law, merely because it was proven that 
 the farmer's wife had once been at a con- 
 venticle. 
 
 In the present instance, however, Cla- 
 vers was mistaken, and fairly overshot his 
 mark ; for poor Maron Linton was so over- 
 ivhelmed with astonishment when she saw 
 her husband and family taken prisoners 
 and bound, that her speech lost all manner 
 of coherence. She sobbed aloud — com- 
 plained one while, entreated another ; and 
 then muttered over some ill-sorted phrases 
 from the Scripture. When Clavers pressed 
 his questions, she answered him, weeping, 
 " O dear sir, my lord, ye ken I canna do 
 naething, nor think naething, nor answer 
 :naething, unless ye let Watie loose again ; 
 1 find as I war naebody, nor nae soul, nor
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 131 
 
 naething ava wantia' him, but just like a \ 
 vacation or a shadow. O my lord, set my 
 twa bits o' callants an' my puir auld man 
 loose again, and I'll say ony thing that ever 
 ye like." 
 
 Threats and proffers proved alike in vain 
 Maron's mind, which never was strong, had 
 been of late so much unhinged by the ter- 
 rors of superstition, that it wavered in its 
 frail tenement like " the baseless fabric of 
 a vision," threatening to depart, and leave 
 not a wreck behind. Clavers told her that 
 her husband's life depended on the prompt- 
 ness and sincerity of her answers, he having 
 rendered himself amenable to justice by 
 rescuing his daughter by force, whom they 
 had taken prisoner on their arrival, having 
 found her engaged in a very suspicious em- 
 ployment. This only increased Maron's 
 agony ; and at length Clavers was obliged 
 to give up the point, and ordered her into 
 custody. 
 
 The soldiers had by this time taken old 
 John of the Muchrah and another of Laid-
 
 132 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 law's shepherds prisoners, who had come to 
 assist their master with the farm-work that' 
 day. All these Clavers examined separate- 
 ly ; and their answers, as taken down in 
 short hand by Mr Adam Copland, are still 
 extant, and at present in my possession. 
 The following are some of them, as decy- 
 phered by Mr J. W. Robertson, whose ac- 
 quaintance with ancient manuscripts is well 
 known. 
 
 John Hay, shepherd in Muchrah, aged 
 fifty-six, sworn and examined. 
 
 " Do you know such a man as the Rev. 
 James Ren wick ?" 
 
 ** Yes. I once heard him pray and preach 
 for about the space of two hours." 
 
 ** Was it on your master's farm that he- 
 preached ?" ' 
 
 *' No, it was in a linn on the Earl Hill,: 
 in the march between two lairds' lands, 
 that he preached that day.*' 
 
 '* How durst you go to an unlawful con- 
 venticle ?" 
 
 " I didna ken there was a law against it
 
 THE BRbw'NtE OT BODSBECK. 13^ 
 
 till after — it's a wild place this — we never 
 bear ony o' the news, unless it be twice a- 
 year frae the Moffat fairs. But as soon as 
 I heard him praying and preaching against 
 the king I cam aff" an' left him, an' brought 
 a' my lads an' lasses wi' me ; but my wife 
 wadna steer her fit — there she sat, shaking 
 her head and glooming at me ; but I trow 
 I cowed her for't after." 
 
 " What did he say of the king ?" 
 
 '' O, I canna mind — he said nae muckle 
 gude o' him." 
 
 ** Did he say that he was a bloody per- 
 jured tyrant ?" * 
 
 " Ay, he said muckle waur nor that. He 
 said some gayan ill-farr'd things about him. 
 But I cam away and left him ; I thought 
 he was saying mair than gude manners 
 warrantit." 
 
 '* Were you in the Hope, as you call it; 
 on that day that the king's soldiers were 
 Sjaiii?" 
 
 " Ay, that I was ; I was the first whd 
 came on them whan they war just new
 
 134 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 dead, an' a' reeking i* their warm blude — 
 Gude keep us a' frae sic sights again ! — for 
 my part, I never gat sic a confoundit gliff 
 sin* I was born o' my mother." 
 
 " Describe the place where the corpses 
 were lying " 
 
 " It is a deep cleuch, wi' a sma' sheep 
 rodding through the h'nn not a foot wide ; 
 and if ye war to stite aff that, ye wad gang 
 to the boddom o' the linn wi' a flaip." 
 
 " Were the bodies then lying in the bot- 
 torn of that linn ?" 
 
 " Odd help ye, whar could they be lying 
 else ? — D'ye think they could lie on the 
 Cleuch-brae ? Ye might as weel think to 
 lie on the side o' that wa' gin ye war 
 dead." 
 
 " How did it appear to you that they 
 had been slain ? were they cut with swords, 
 or pierced with bullets ?" 
 
 ** I canna say, but they war sair hashed." 
 
 " How do you mean when you say they 
 v;ere hashed ?"
 
 THE BaOWNIE OP BODSBECK, 185 
 
 ** Champit like — a' broozled and jur- 
 mummled, as it war." 
 
 <* Do you mean that they were cut, or 
 cloven, or minced ?" 
 
 " Na, na — no that ava — But they had 
 gotten some sair doofs — They had been 
 terribly paikit and daddit wi' something." 
 
 " I do not in the least conceive what 
 you mean." / 
 
 '* That's extrordnar, man — can ye no un- 
 derstand folk's mother-tongue ? — I'll mak 
 it plain to you. Ye see, whan a thing 
 comes on ye that gate, that's a dadd — sit 
 still now. Then a paik, that's a swapp or a 
 skelp like — when a thing comes on ye that 
 way, that's a paik. But a doofs warst ava 
 
 *« Prithee hold ; I now understand it all 
 perfectly well. — What, then, is your opi- 
 nion with regard to these men's death ? 
 How, or what way do you think they were 
 killed ?" 
 
 •* O, sir, there's naebody can say. It was 
 some extrordnar judgment, that's out of a'
 
 136 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 doubt. There had been an unyerdly raid 
 i' the Hope that day." .i 
 
 . ** What reason have you for supposing 
 such a tiling ?" > 
 
 *' Because there wasna a leevin soul i' 
 the hale Hope that day but theirsels — they 
 wadna surely hae felled ane another — It's, 
 by an' attoar, an awsome bit where they 
 war killed ; there hae been things baith 
 seen and heard about it ; and I saw an ap- 
 parition there mysel on the very night be* 
 fore.'' 
 
 ** You saw an apparition at the place the 
 night before, did you ? And, pray, what 
 was that apparition like ?" 
 
 " It was like a man and a woman." 
 
 ** Had the figure of the woman no re^ 
 semblance to any one you had ever seen 
 before ? Was it in any degree, for instance, 
 like your master's daughter ?" 
 
 " No unlike ava." 
 
 " Then 1 think I can guess what the 
 other form was like — Had it a bonnet on 
 its head ?"
 
 •niE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 137 
 
 ** Not a bonnet certainly, but it had the 
 shape o' ane." 
 
 '* I weened as much — And was it a tall 
 gigantic figure ?" 
 
 " Na, na, sir; the very contrair o' that." 
 
 '* Are you certain of that you say ? Was 
 it not taller than the apparition of the wo- 
 man ?" 
 
 *• No half sae tall, sir." 
 
 " Had it not some sHght resemblance to 
 your master, little as it was ? Did that not 
 strike you ?" 
 
 '* Na, na, it was nae thing like my master, 
 nor nae yerdly creature that ever was seen ; 
 indeed it was nae creature ava." 
 
 " What then do you suppose it was ?" 
 
 *' Lord kens ! — A wraith, I hae little 
 doubt. My een rins a' wi* water whan, I 
 think about it yet." 
 
 ** AVraiths are quite common here, are 
 they ?" 
 
 " O yes, sir ! — oure common. They ap- 
 pear aye afore death, especially if the death 
 be to be sudden."
 
 1S8 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 " And what are they generally like ?' 
 ** Sometimes hke a light— sometimes 
 like a windin-sheet — sometimes like the 
 body that's to dee, gaen mad — and some- 
 times like a coffin made o' moon-light." 
 
 " Was it in the evening you saw this ap- 
 parition ?" 
 
 " It was a little after midnight." 
 " And pray, what might be your business 
 in such a place at that untimely hour ? — 
 Explain that fully to me if you please." 
 
 *< I sail do that, sir, as weel as I can : — 
 Our ewes, ye see, lie up in the twa Grains 
 an' the Middle a' the harst — Now,theQuave 
 Brae again, it's our hogg-fence, that's the 
 hained grund like ; and whenever the wind 
 gangs easterly about, then whan the atdd 
 luckies rise i' the ho we o' the night to get 
 their rug, afF they come, snouckin a* the 
 way to the Lang Bank, an' the tither end 
 o' them round the Piper Snout, and into the 
 Quave Brae to the hained grund ; an' very 
 often they think naething o' landing i' the 
 mids o' the corn. Now I never mindit the
 
 THE BflOWNIE OF BODSBECK. 139 
 
 corn sae muckle j but for them to gang wi* 
 the hogg- fence, I couclna bide that ava ; 
 for ye ken, sir, how coud we turn our hand 
 wi' our pickle hoggs i' winter if their bit 
 foggage war a* riven up by the auld raikin 
 hypalts ere ever a smeary's clute clattered 
 on't ?" 
 
 Though Clavers was generally of an im- 
 patient temper, and loathed the simplicity 
 of nature, yet he could not help smiling at 
 this elucidation, which was much the same 
 to him as if it had been delivered in the lan- 
 guage of the Moguls J but seeing the shep- 
 herd perfectly sincere, he suffered him to 
 go on to the end. 
 
 " Now, sir, ye ken the wind very often 
 taks a swee away round to the east i' the 
 night time whan the wather's gude i' the 
 harst months, an' whanever this was the 
 case, and the moon i' the lift, I had e'en 
 aye obliged to rise at midnight, and gang 
 round the hill an' stop the auld kimmers — • 
 very little did the turn— just a bit thraw
 
 140 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 yont the brae, an' they kend my whistle, or 
 my tike's bark, as weel as I did mysel, still 
 they wadna do wantin't. Weel, ye see, sir, 
 I gets up an' gangs to the door — it was a 
 bonny night — the moon was hingin o'er the 
 derk brows o' Hopertoody, an' the lang 
 black scaddaws had an eiry look — I turned 
 my neb the tither gate, an' I fand the air 
 was gane to the eissel ; the se'en starns had 
 gaen oure the lum, an' the tail o' the king's 
 elwand was just pointin to the Muchrah 
 Crags. It's the very time, quo' I to mysel, 
 I needna think about lying down again — 
 I maun leave Janet to lie doverin by hersel 
 for an hour or twa — Keilder, my fine dog, 
 where are ye ?— He was as ready as me — 
 he likes a play i' the night-time brawly, for 
 he's aye gettin a broostle at a hare, or a tod, 
 or a foumart, or some o' thae beasts that 
 gang snaikin about i' the derk. Sae to mak 
 a lang tale short, sir, oW we sets, Keilder an' 
 me, an' soon comes to the place. The ewes 
 had been very mensefu' that night, they
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 141 
 
 had just corned to the march and nae far- 
 ther ; sae, I says, puir things, sin' ye hae 
 been sae leifii', we*Jl sit down an' rest a 
 while, the dog an' me, an' let ye tak a pluck 
 an' fill yersels or we turn ye back up to your 
 cauld lairs again. Sae down we sits i* the 
 scaddaw of a bit derksome cleuch-brae — 
 naebody could hae seen us ; and ere ever I 
 wats, I hears by the grumblin o' my friend, 
 that he outher saw or smelled something 
 mair than ordinar. I took him in aneath 
 my plaid for fear o' some grit brainyell of 
 an outbrik ; and whan I lookit, there was a 
 white thing and a black thing new risen 
 out o' the solid yird ! They cam close by 
 me ; and whan I saw the moon shinin on 
 their cauld white faces, I lost my sight an' 
 swarfed clean away. Wae be to them for 
 droichs, or ghaists, or whatever they war, 
 for aye sin' syne the hogg-fence o' the 
 Quave Brae has been harried an' traisselled 
 till its little better nor a drift road — I dar- 
 na gang an' stop the ewes now for the sauI 
 
 2
 
 142 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 that's i' my bouk, an' little do I wat what's 
 to come o* the hoggs the year." 
 
 <« Well now, you have explained this 
 much I believe to your own satisfaction — 
 Remember then, you are upon oath — Who 
 do you think it was that killed these men ?" 
 
 " I think it was outher God or the deil, 
 but whilk o' them, I coudna say." 
 
 <« And this is really your opinion ?" 
 
 ♦« Yes, it is." 
 
 '* Have you «een any strangers about 
 your master's house of late ?" 
 
 " I saw one not long ago." 
 
 « What sort of a man was he ?" 
 
 " A douse-looking man wi'a brown yaud ; 
 I took him for some wool-buyer." 
 
 «« Was he not rather like a preacher ?" 
 
 " The man might hae preached for aught 
 contrair till't in his appearance — 1 coudna 
 9ay." 
 
 ** Are you certain it was not Mr Ren- 
 wick ?" 
 
 " 1 am certain." 
 
 5
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 143 
 
 " Is your master a very religious man ?*' 
 
 *« He's weel eneugh that way — No that 
 very reithe on't ; but the gudewife hauds 
 his neb right sair to the grindstane about it." 
 
 •* Does he perform family worship ?'* v 
 
 •* Sometimes." 
 
 " Is he reckoned a great and exemplary 
 performer of that duty ?" 
 
 " Na, he's nae great gun, I trow ; but he 
 warstles away at it as weel as he can." 
 
 " Can you repeat any part, or any parti- 
 cular passage of his usual prayer ?" 
 
 «* Tm sure I might, for he gangs often 
 aneuch oure some o' them. Let me see— • 
 there's the still waters, and the green pas- 
 tures, and the blood of bulls and of goats ; 
 and then there's the gos-hawk, and the slo- 
 gy riddle, and the tyrant an' his lang neb ; 
 1 hae the maist o't i' my head, but then I 
 canna mouband it." 
 
 *• What does he mean by the tyrant and 
 his long neb ?" 
 
 ** Aha ! But that's mair nor ever I could
 
 144 niE BaowNiE of bodsbeck. 
 
 find out yet. We whiles think he means 
 the Kelpy — him that raises the storms an* 
 the floods on us, ye ken, and gars the wa- 
 ters an' the burns come roarin down wi' 
 bracks o' ice an' snaw, an' tak away our 
 sheep. But whether it's Kelpy, or Clavers, 
 or the Deil, we can never be sure, for we 
 think it applies gay an' weel to them a'." 
 : " Repeat the passage as well as you can," 
 
 " Bring down the tyrant an' his lang neb, 
 for he has done muckle ill this year, and 
 gie him a cup o' thy wrath; an' gin he 
 winna tak that, gie him kelty." 
 . " What is meant by kelty ?" 
 
 " That's double — it means twa cups — ■ 
 ony body kens that." 
 ^ " Does he ever mention the king in his 
 
 "O 
 
 prayer ?" 
 
 " O yes : always." 
 
 " What does he say about him ?" 
 ; " Something about the sceptre of right- 
 eousness, and the standard of truth. I ken 
 he has some rhyme about him,"
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBCK. 145 
 
 " Indeed ! And does he likewise make 
 mention of the Covenant ?" 
 
 " Ay, that's after — that's near the end, 
 just afore the resurrection. O yes, he harls 
 aye in the Covenant there. * The bond o' 
 the everlasting Covenant, as he ca^s it, weel 
 ordered in all things, and sure." 
 
 " Ay, that's very well ; that's quite suffi- 
 cient. Now, you have yourself confessed, 
 that you were at an unlawful and abomina- 
 ble conventicle, holding fellowship with in- 
 tercommuned rebels, along with your wife 
 and family. You must be made an example 
 of to the snarling and rebellious hounds 
 that are lurking in these bounds ; but as 
 you have answered me with candour, though 
 I might order you instantly to be sliot, I 
 will be so indulgent as to g\v^ you your 
 choice, whether you will go to prison m 
 Edinburgh, and be there tried by the Coun- 
 cil, or submit to the judgment which I may 
 pronounce on you here ?" 
 
 " O, sir, I canna win to Edinbrough at 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 146 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 no rate — that's impossible. What think ye 
 wad come o' the sheep ? The hogg-fence o* 
 the Quave Brae is maistly ruined already ; 
 and war I to gae to the prison at Edin- 
 brough, it wad be mair loss than a' that I'm 
 worth. I maun just lippen toyoursel 5 but 
 ye maunna be very sair on me. I never did 
 ony ill designedly ; and as for ony rebellion 
 against the Bruce's blood, I wad be hangit 
 or I wad think o' sic a thing." 
 
 " Take the old ignorant animal away — 
 Burn him on the cheek, cut off his ears, 
 and do not part with him till he pay you 
 down a fine of two hundred merks, or va- 
 lue to that amount. And, do you hear, 
 make him take all the oaths twice ; and a 
 third oath, that he is never to repent of 
 these. By G — •, if either Monmouth or 
 Argyle get him, they shall have a perjured 
 dog of him." 
 
 As John was dragged oif to this punish- 
 ment, which was executed without any mi- 
 tigation, he shook his head and said, '* Ah, 
 lak-a day ! I fear things are muckle waur
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 147 
 
 wi' US than I had ony notion o' ! I trowed 
 aye that even down truth an' honesty bure 
 some respect till now — I fear our country's 
 a* wrang thegither." — Then looking back 
 to Clavers, he added, " Gude-sooth, lad, 
 but ye'U mak mae whigs wherever ye show 
 your face, than a' the hill preachers o' Scot- 
 land put thegither."
 
 148 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 It has been remarked by all the histo- 
 rians of that period, that the proceedings 
 of Clavers about this time were severe in 
 the extreme. The rising, both in the north 
 and south at the same time, rendered the 
 situation of affairs somewhat tickhsh. Still 
 the Lowlands were then perfectly peace- 
 able ; but he seemed determined, lest he 
 should be called away, to destroy the Co- 
 venanters, and all that hankered after civil 
 and religious liberty, root and branch. Cer- 
 tainly his behaviour at Chapelhope that 
 morning, was sufficient to stamp his cha- 
 racter for ever in that district, where it is 
 still held in at least as great detestation a« 
 that of the arch-fiend himself.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 149 
 
 When the soldiers, by his order, seized 
 and manacled Walter, he protested vehe- 
 mently against such outrage, and urged 
 the general to prove his fidelity to his so- 
 vereign by administering to him the test 
 oath, and the oath of abjuration ; but this 
 Clavers declined, and said to him, with a 
 sneer, that " they had other ways of trying 
 dogs beside that." 
 
 When those who had been appointed to 
 search the house came before him, and gave 
 in their report, among other things, they 
 said they had found as much bread new 
 baked, and mutton newly cooked, as would 
 be a reasonable allowance for an hundred 
 men for at least one whole day. Clavers 
 remarked, that in a family so few in num- 
 ber, this was proof positive that others 
 were supported from that house. '* But we 
 shall disappoint the whigs of one hearty 
 meal," added he ; and with that he ordered 
 the meat to be brought all out and set 
 down upon the green — bid his troopers
 
 150 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 eat as much as they could — feed their 
 horses with the bread which they left, and 
 either destroy the remainder of the vic- 
 tuals or carry them away. 
 
 It was in vain that Walter told him the 
 honest truth, that the food was provided 
 solely for himself and his soldiers, as he 
 knew they were to come by that road, ei- 
 ther on that day or the one following j 
 nay, though all the family avouched it, as 
 they well might, he only remarked, with a 
 look of the utmost malignity, that " he ne- 
 ver in his life knew a whig who had not 
 a d — d He ready on his tongue, or some 
 kind of equivocation to save his stinking 
 life, but that they must necessarily all be 
 taught who they were deahng with." He 
 then made them all swear that they were 
 to tell the truth, the whole truth, and no- 
 thing but the truth, and to utter the most 
 horrid imprecations on themselves and their 
 souls for ever, if they deviated in one sin- 
 gle item ; and beginning with old John, as
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 151 
 
 before related, he examined them all sepa- 
 rately and out of hearing of one another. 
 
 The interrogations and answers are much 
 too long to be inserted here at full length ; 
 but the only new circumstances that came 
 to light were these two. One of the young 
 men deponed, that, when the bodies of the 
 soldiers were found in the Hope, their mus- 
 kets were all loaded, which showed that 
 they had not fallen in a regular skirmish ; 
 and the other boy swore, that he had lately 
 seen eighty large thick bannocks baked in 
 one day in his father's house, for that he had 
 counted them three times over as they stood 
 cooling. Thiswas another suspicious circum- 
 stance, and Clavers determined to search 
 it to the bottom. He sifted the two youths 
 backward and forward, trying to get the 
 secret out of them by every wile in his 
 power ; and because they were unable to 
 give him any satisfactory account who con- 
 sumed all that store of bread, he caused his 
 dragoons to lake hold of the youngest and
 
 152 THE BROWNIE OV BODSBECK. 
 
 gird his head with a cord, twisting it witk 
 a horse pistol, until in some places it cut 
 him to the skull. The eldest he hung up 
 to the beam by the thumbs until he fainted 
 through insufferable pain ; but he could 
 get nothing more out of them, for they h^ 
 at first told him all that they knew, being 
 quite unconscious of any evil. 
 
 Still bent, as it seemed, on the full con- 
 viction and ruin of the family, he told the 
 boys that they were two of the most con- 
 summate knaves and rebels that he had in 
 all his life seen ; and that if they had any 
 hopes at all of going to Heaven, they should 
 say their prayers, for in a few minutes he 
 would order them both to be shot. 
 
 John, the eldest, who possessed a good 
 deal of his mother's feebleness of charac- 
 ter, and was besides but newly recover- 
 ed from a fainting fit, was seized with a 
 stupor, appeared quite passive, and acted 
 precisely as they bade him, without seem- 
 ing to know what he did j but the young-
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 153' 
 
 est, whose name was William, preserved an 
 interesting firmness, in such a trial, for a 
 considerable time. On being advised by 
 Clavers to tell all he knew rather than die, 
 and asked if he was not afraid of death ? 
 He answered, with the tear in his eye, ^^I'm 
 nouther feared for you nor death, man. I 
 think if fock may be guidit this way at their 
 ain hames, the sooner they're dead the bet- 
 ter." Then turning his looks to his brother, 
 who kneeled according to the general's or- 
 der on the green beside him, he added, with 
 convulsive sobs, *' But poor Jock's gaun to 
 be shot too — 1 wonder what ye need kill 
 him for ? — What ill hae we ever done t'ye ? 
 -—Jock's a very good callant — I canna pray 
 weel, but if ye'll let my billy Jock gang, I'll 
 pray for ye as I can, and kiss ye too." 
 
 Happy was it for the wits of poor Maron 
 that she saw nothing of this touching scene ; 
 she, as well as Walter, being then with the 
 rest under a strong guard in the Old Room. 
 Clavers paid no regard to the kneeling boy's 
 G 2
 
 154 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 request. He caused his troopers to draw 
 up around them, present their firelocks, 
 and then an executioner, who was always 
 one of his train, tied up both their eyes. 
 He gave the word himself, and instantly ten 
 or twelve carabines were discharged on 
 them at once. John fell flat on the earth ; 
 but William, with a violent start, sprung to 
 his feet, and, being bUndfolded, ran straight 
 on the files of soldiers. 
 
 Clavers laid hold of him. '* My brave 
 little fellow," said he, " the soldiers have 
 all missed you, bungling beasts that they 
 are ! and since so wonderful a thing hath 
 befallen, you shall yet have your life, though 
 a most notorious rebel, if you will tell me 
 what people frequent your father's house." 
 
 « What's corned o' Jock ?" said the boy, 
 '' O tell me what's comed o' Jock, for I 
 canna see." 
 
 " Jock is lying dead on the green there, 
 all bathed in his blood," said Clavers ; 
 " poof wretch ! it is over with him, and
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 1S5 
 
 unless you instantly tell me who it was that 
 consumed all that store of bread that has 
 been baked in your father's house for the 
 last month, you must be sent after him." 
 
 William withdrew backward a few paces, 
 and kneeling a second time down on the 
 sward with great decency and deliberation, 
 ** Shoot again," said he ; " try me aince 
 mair ; an' O see to airch a wee better this 
 time. I wad rather dee a hunder times, or 
 I saw poor Jock lying a bloody corp." 
 
 Clavers made a sign to one of his dra- 
 goons, who unbound William, and took the 
 bandage from his eyes. Regardless of all 
 else, he looked wildly around in search of 
 his brother, and seeing his only companion 
 lying flat on his face, he at first turned 
 away, as if wishing to escape from a scene 
 so dismal ; but his helpless and forlorn si- 
 tuation staring him in the face, and the 
 idea doubtless recurring that he was never 
 to part with his brother, but forthwith to 
 be slaughtered and carried to the grave with 
 him, he returned, went slowly up to the
 
 156 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 body, kneeled down beside it, and pulliHg 
 the napkin farther down over the face to 
 keep the dead features from view, he clasp- 
 ed his arms about his brother's neck, laid 
 his cheek to his, and wept bitterly. 
 
 The narrator of this part of the tale was 
 wont to say, that the scene which followed 
 had something more touching in it than any 
 tongue could describe, although Clavers 
 and his troops only laughed at it. William 
 had now quite relinquished all sensations of 
 fear or danger, and gave full vent to a flood 
 of passionate tenderness and despair. He 
 clasped his brother's neck closer and closer, 
 steeped his cheek with his tears, and seem- 
 ed to cling and grow to the body with a 
 miserable fondness. While he was giving 
 full scope in this maoner to the affections 
 of his young heart, his brother made a heave 
 up with his head and shoulder, saying at 
 the same time, like one wakening from a 
 dream, " Little Will, is that you ? — Haud 
 aff;_What ails ye ?" 
 
 William raised up his head, — fixed his 
 8
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 15T 
 
 eyes on vacancy, — the tears dried on his 
 cheek, and his ruby Hps were wide open, — 
 the thing was beyond his comprehension, 
 and never was seen a more beautiful statue 
 of amazement. He durst not turn his eyes 
 towards his brother, but he uttered in words 
 scarcely articulate, '* Lord ! I believe they 
 hae missed Jock too !" 
 
 Clavers had given private orders to his 
 dragoons to fire over the heads of the two 
 boys, his intent being to intimidate them 
 so much as to eradicate every principle of 
 firmness and power of concealment from 
 their tender minds ; a scheme of his own 
 fertile invention, and one which he often 
 practised upon young people with too sure 
 effect. When William found that his bro- 
 ther was really alive, and that both of them 
 were to be spared on condition that he 
 gave up the names and marks of all the 
 people that had of late been at Chapel- 
 hope ; he set himself with great earnestness 
 to recount them, along with every mark by
 
 158 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECE, 
 
 which he remembered them, determined 
 that every hidden thing should be brought 
 to light, rather than that poor Jock should 
 be shot at again. 
 
 " Weel, ye see, first there was Geordie 
 Skin-him-alive the flesher, him that took 
 away the crocks and the paulies, and my 
 brockit-lamb, and gae me a penny for setting 
 him through atween the lochs. Then there 
 was Hector Kennedy the tinkler, him that 
 the bogles brought and laid down at the 
 door i' the night-time — hesuppit twa bicker- 
 fu's o' paritch, an' cleekit out a hantle o' 
 geds an' perches wi' his toum. Then there 
 was Ned Huddersfield the woo-man, wi' 
 the leather bags and the skeenzle thread — 
 him that kissed our bire-woman i' the barn 
 in spite o* her teeth, — he had red cheeks 
 and grit thees, and wasna unlike a glutton ; 
 he misca'd my father's woo, an' said aye, 
 * Nay, it's nane clean, howsomever, — it's 
 useless, that's its warst fault.' Then there 
 was wee Willie the nout herd, him that had
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 159 
 
 the gude knife an' the duddy breeks ; but 
 the Brownie's put him daft, an' his mither 
 had to come an' tak him away upon a 
 cuddy." 
 
 In this manner went he on particulari- 
 zing every one he remembered, till fairly 
 cut short with a curse. John continued 
 perfectly stupid, and when examined, an- 
 swered only YeSf or A^o, as their way of 
 asking the question dictated. 
 
 " Are there not great numbers of peo- 
 ple who frequent your father's house du- 
 ring the night ?" 
 
 «« Yes." 
 
 ** Do you see and hear them, after you 
 go to bed ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " What are they generally employed in 
 when you hear them ? Do they read, and 
 pray, and sing psalms ?" 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 " Do your father and mother always join 
 them ?" 
 
 '« Yes."
 
 160 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 Here William could restrain himself no 
 longer. ** Gude faith, Jock, man," said he, 
 *' ye're just telling a hirsel o' eindown lees. 
 It canna be lees that the man wants, for 
 that maks him nae the wiser ; an' for you 
 to say that my father rises to pray i' the 
 night-time, beats a,' when ye ken my mither 
 has baith to fleitch an' %ht or she can get 
 him eggit on till't i' the Sabbath e'enings. 
 He's ower glad to get it foughten decently 
 by, to rise an' fa' till't again. O fye, Jock ! 
 I wad stand by the truth ; an', at ony rate, 
 no just gaung to hell open mouth." 
 
 When the volley of musketry went off, 
 all the prisoners started and stared on one 
 another ; even the hundred veterans that 
 guarded them appeared by their looks to 
 be wholly at a loss. Macpherson alone ven- 
 tured anv remark on it. " Pe Cot*s life, 
 fat she pe pluff pluffing at now ? May the 
 teal more pe her soul's salvation, if she do 
 not believe te man's pe gone out of all rea- 
 son." 
 The women screamed j and Maron, whose
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 16 1 
 
 tongue was a mere pendulum to the work- 
 ings of the heart within, went on sighing 
 and praying ; asking questions, and answer- 
 ing them alternately ; and at every pause, 
 looked earnestly to her husband, who lean- 
 ed against the corner of the room, ashamed 
 that his bound hands should be seen. 
 
 " Och ! Aigh me !" cried Maron," — 
 " Dear sirs, what's the fock shootin at? — 
 Eh ? — I'm sure they hae nae battlers to 
 fight wi' there ? — No ane — I wat, no ane. 
 Aigh now, sirs ! the lives o' God's crea- 
 tures ! — They never shoot nae callants, do 
 they ? Oh, na, na, they*il never shoot in- 
 nocent bairns, puir things ! They'll maybe 
 hae been trying how weel they could vizy 
 at the wild ducks ; there's a hantle o' cleck- 
 ins about the saughs o' the lake. Hout 
 ay, that's a'. — He hasna forgotten to be 
 gracious, nor is his mercy clean gane." 
 
 Thus poor Maron went on, and though 
 she had but little discernment left, she per- 
 ceived that there was a tint of indignant 
 madness in her husband's looks. His lips
 
 162 THE BROWNIE OF BODSFECK. 
 
 quivered — his eyes dilated — and the wrin- 
 kles on his brow rolled up to the roots of 
 his dark grizzled hair, *< Watie," cried 
 she, in a shrill and tremulous voice — ** Wa- 
 tie, what ails ye ? — Oh ! tell me what ails ye, 
 Watie ?— What's the fock shooting at ? Eh ?• 
 Ye'U no tell me what they're shooting at, 
 Watie ?~0h, oh, oh, oh I*' 
 
 Walter uttered no word, nor did his 
 daughter, who sat in dumb astonishment^ 
 with her head almost bent to her feet ; but 
 old Nanny joined in full chorus with her 
 mistress, and a wild unearthly strain the 
 couple raised, till checked by Serjeant Roy 
 Macpherson, 
 
 " Cot's curse be t — ning you to te ever- 
 lasting teal ! fat too-whooing pe tat ? Do 
 you think that should the lenoch beg pe 
 shot trou te poty, tat is te son to yourself? 
 Do you tink, you will too-whoo him up 
 akain ?— Hay ? — Cot tamn, pe holding your 
 paice."
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 16S 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Upon the whole, there was no proof 
 against Walter. Presumption was against 
 him, but the evidence was rather in his fa- 
 vour. Military law, however, prevailed; 
 and he found that there was no redress to 
 be had of any grievance or insult, that this 
 petty tyrant, in his caprice, thought fit to 
 inflict. His drivers were ordered to take 
 the whole stock from the farms of Kirkin- 
 hope, belonging to David Bryden, who li- 
 ved at a distance, because it was proven, 
 that Mr Renwick had preached and bapti- 
 zed some children on the bounds of that 
 farm. That stock he caused to be taken to 
 Selkirk, and sent orders to the sheriff to sell 
 it by public roup, at the cross, to the high*
 
 164 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 est bidder ; but with Walter's stock he did 
 not meddle at that time 5 so far did justice 
 mark his proceedings. He strongly sus- 
 pected him, and wished to have him con- 
 victed ; and certainly would have taken all 
 the family with him prisoners, had not the 
 curate-clerk arrived at that critical time. 
 Him Clavers consulted apart, and was soon 
 given to understand the steadfast loyalty of 
 the gudewife, daughter, and all the family, 
 save Walter, whom, he said, he suspected 
 of a secret connivance with the Came- 
 ronians. This was merely to serve a sel- 
 fish purpose, for the clerk suspected no 
 such thing at that time. It had the desi^ 
 red effect. Clavers set all the rest of the 
 family free, but took the good man with 
 him prisoner 5 put two of his best horses 
 in requisition ; mounted himself on a di- 
 minutive poney, with the thumbikins on 
 his hands, and his feet chained below 
 its belly. In this degrading situation, he 
 was put under the ca^e of Serjeant Roy
 
 THE BROA\^NIE OF BODSBECK. 165 
 
 Macpherson and ^ve troopers ; and Cla- 
 vers, with the rest of his company, hasted, 
 with great privacy and celerity, into that 
 inhospitable wild, which forms the bound- 
 ary between Drummelzier and the John- 
 stons of Annandale. The greater part of 
 the fugitives had taken shelter there at that 
 time, it being the most inaccessible part in 
 the south of Scotland, and that where, of 
 all others, they had been the least troubled. 
 No troops could subsist near them ; and all 
 that the military could do was to set watches 
 near every pass to and from these moun- 
 tains, where a few stragglers were killed, 
 but not many in proportion to the numbers 
 that had there sought a retreat. 
 
 The Covenanters knew that Clavers would 
 make a sweeping and exterminating circuit 
 about that time — incidents which were not 
 to be overlooked, had been paving the way 
 for it — incidents with which the main body 
 of that people were totally unconnected. 
 But it was usual at that time, and a very 
 unfair practice it was, that whatever was
 
 166 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 said, or perpetrated, by any intemperate fa- 
 natical individual, or any crazy wight, dri- 
 ven half mad by ill usage — whatever was 
 said or done by such, was always attributed 
 to the w^hole sect as a body. It is too true 
 that the Privy Council chose, invariably, 
 men void of all feeling or remorse to lead 
 these troops. A man had nothing to study 
 but to be cruel enough to rise in the army 
 in those days ; yet, because there was a 
 Dalziel, a Graham, a Creighton, and a 
 Bruce among the king's troops, it would be 
 unfair to suppose all the rest as void of eve- 
 ry principle of feeling and forbearance as 
 they. In hke manner, because some of 
 the Covenanters said violent and culpable 
 things, and did worse, it is hard to blame 
 the whole body for these ; for, in the scat- 
 tered prowling way in which they were dri- 
 ven to subsist, they had no controul over 
 individuals. 
 
 They had been looking for the soldiers' 
 appearing there for several days, and that 
 same morning had been on the watch ; but 
 
 21
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 16? 
 
 the day was now so far advanced that they 
 were waxen remiss, and had retired to their 
 dens and hiding-places. Besides, he came 
 so suddenly upon them, that some parties, 
 as well as several stragglers, were instantly 
 discovered. A most determined pursuit en- 
 sued, Clavers exerted himself that day in 
 such a manner, gallopping over precipices, 
 and cheering on his dragoons, that all the 
 country people who beheld him believed 
 him to be a devil, or at least mounted on 
 one. The marks of that infernal courser's 
 feet are shewn to this day on a steep, near- 
 ly perpendicular, below the Bubbly Craig, 
 along which he is said to have ridden at full 
 speed, in order to keep sight of a party of 
 the flying Covenanters. At another place, 
 called the Blue Sklidder, on the Merk side, 
 he had far outrode all his officers and dra- 
 goons in the pursuit of ^ve men, who fled 
 straggling athwart the steep. He had dis- 
 charged both his pistols without effect ; and 
 just as he was making ready to cleave down
 
 16S THE BROWNIE OF BODSBEClC* 
 
 the hindmost with his sabre, he w^s attack* 
 ed by another party, who rolled huge stones 
 at him from the precipice above, and obli- 
 ged him to make a hasty retreat. 
 
 Tradition has preserved the whole of his 
 route that day with the utmost minuteness. 
 It is not easy to account for this. These 
 minute traditions are generally founded on 
 truth ; yet though two generations have 
 scarcely passed away since the date of this 
 tale,* tradition, in this instance, relates 
 things impossible, else Clavers must indeed 
 have been one of the infernals. Often has 
 the present relater of this tale stood over 
 the deep green marks of that courser's 
 hoof, many of which remain on that liill, 
 in awe and astonishment, to think that he 
 was actually looking at the traces made 
 
 * One of the women baptized in the Linn of Riskin- 
 hope .by Renwick that year, has several children yet 
 alive, not very aged people.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 169 
 
 by the devil's foot, or at least by a horse 
 that once belonged to him. 
 
 Five men were slain that day ; but as 
 they were all westland men, very little is 
 known concerning them. One of them was 
 shot at a distance by some dragoons who 
 were in pursuit of him, just as he was en- 
 tering a morass, where he would certainly 
 have escaped them. He is buried on a place 
 called the Watch Knowe, a little to the 
 south-east of Loch Skene, beside a cairn 
 where he had often sat keeping watch for 
 the approach of enemies, from which cir- 
 cumstance the height derived its name. 
 When he fell, it being rough broken ground, 
 they turned and rode off without ever go- 
 ing up to the body. Four were surprised 
 and taken prisoners on a height called Ker- 
 Cleuch- Ridge, who were brought to Clavers 
 and shortly examined on a little crook in 
 the Erne Cleuch, a little above the old 
 steading at Hopertoudy. 
 
 Macpherson kept the high road, such as 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 170 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 it was, with his prisoner ; but travelled no 
 faster than just to keep up with the parties 
 that were scouring the hills on each side ; 
 and seeing these unfortunate men hunted in 
 from the hill, he rode up with his compa- 
 nions and charge to see the issue, remark- 
 ing to Walter, that '* he woolt not pe much 
 creat deal te worse of scheeing fwat te Cot 
 t — n'd fvvigs would pe getting." 
 
 How did Walter's heart smite him when 
 he saw that one of them was the sensible, 
 judicious, and honourable fellow with whom 
 he fought, and whose arm he had disloca- 
 ted by a blow with his stick ! It was still 
 hanging in a sling made of a double rash 
 rope. 
 
 They would renounce nothing, confess 
 nothing, nor yield, in the slightest degree, 
 to the threats and insulting questions put 
 by the general. They expected no mercy, 
 and they cringed for none ; but seemed all 
 the while to regard him with pity and con- 
 teuipt. Walter often said that he was an 
 ill judge of the cause for which these men
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 171 
 
 suffered ; but wliatever might be said of it, 
 they were heroes in that cause. Their com- 
 plexions were sallow, and bore marks of 
 famine and other privations ; their beards 
 untrimmed ; their apparel all in rags, and 
 their hats slouched down about their ears 
 with sleeping on the hills. All this they 
 had borne with resignation and without a 
 murmur ; and, when brought to the last, 
 before the most remorseless of the human 
 race, they shewed no symptoms of flinching 
 or yielding up an item of the cause they had 
 espoused. 
 
 When asked " if they would pray for the 
 king ?" 
 
 They answered, " that they would with 
 all their hearts ; — they would pray for his 
 forgiveness, in time and place convenient, 
 but not when every profligate bade them, 
 which were a loathful scurrility, and a 
 mockery of God." 
 
 " Would they acknowledge him as their 
 right and lawful sovereign ?" 
 
 " No, that they would never do ! He
 
 172 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 was a bloody and designing papist, and had 
 usurped a prerogative that belonged not to 
 him. To acknowledge the Duke of York 
 for king, would be to acknowledge the di- 
 vine approbation of tyranny, oppression, 
 usurpation, and all that militates against 
 religion or liberty, as well as justifying tlie 
 abrogation of our ancient law relating to 
 the succession; and that, besides, he had 
 trampled on every civil and religious right, 
 and was no king for Scotland, or any land 
 wherc the inhabitants did not chuse the 
 most abject and degrading slavery. For 
 their parts, they would never acknowledge 
 him ; and though it was but little that their 
 protestations and their blood could avail, 
 they gave them freely. They had but few 
 left to mourn for them, and these few might 
 never know of their fate ; but there was One 
 who knew their hearts, who saw their suf- 
 ferings, and in Him they trusted that the 
 days of tyranny and oppression were wear- 
 ing to a close, and that a race yet to come
 
 THE BaOWNIE OF BODSBECK. 173 
 
 might acknowledge that they had not shed 
 their blood in vain." 
 
 Glavers ordered them all to be shot. 
 They craved time to pray, but he object- 
 ed, sullenly alleging, that he had not time 
 to spare. Mr Copland said, — " My lord, 
 you had better grant the poor wretches 
 that small indulgence." On which Clavers 
 took out his watch, and said he would 
 grant them two minutes, provided they did 
 not howl. When the man with the hurt 
 arm turned round to kneel, Walter could 
 not help crying out to him in a voice half 
 stifled with agony— 
 
 *• Ah ! lak.a-day, man ! is it come to this 
 with you, and that so soon ? This is a sad 
 sight!" 
 
 The man pretended to put on a strange 
 and astonished look towards his benefactor. 
 
 " Whoever you are," said he, " that pities 
 the sufferings of a hapless stranger, I thank 
 you. May God requite you ! but think of 
 yourself, and apply for mercy where it is to
 
 174 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 be found, for you are in the hands of those 
 whose boast it is to despise it." 
 
 Walter at first thought this was strange, 
 but he soon perceived the policy of it, and 
 wondered at his friend's readiness at such an 
 awful hour, when any acknowledgment of 
 connection would have been so fatal to him- 
 self. They kneeled all down, clasped their 
 hands together, turned their faces to Hea- 
 ven, and prayed in a scarce audible whisper. 
 Captain Bruce, in the mean time, kneeled 
 behind the files, and prayed in mockery, 
 making a long face, wiping his eyes, and 
 speaking in such a ludicrous whine, that it 
 was impossible for the gravest face to re- 
 tain its muscles unaltered. He had more 
 to attend to him than the miserable suffer- 
 ers. When the two minutes were expired, 
 Clavers, who held his watch all the time, 
 made a sign to the dragoons who were 
 drawn up, without giving any intimation 
 to the sufferers, which, perhaps, was mer- 
 ciful, and in a moment all the four were 
 launched into eternity.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 175 
 
 The soldiers, for what reason Walter ne- 
 ver understood, stretched the bodies all in, 
 a straight line on the brae, with their faces 
 upwards, antl about a yard distant from 
 one another, and then rode off as fast as 
 they could to get another hunt, as they 
 called it. These four men were afterwards 
 carried by the fugitives, and some country 
 people, and decently interred in Ettrick 
 church-yard. Their graves are all in a row 
 a few paces from the south-west corner of 
 the present church. The goodman of Cha- 
 pelhope, some years thereafter, erected a 
 head-stone over the grave of the unfortu- 
 nate sufferer whose arm he had broken, 
 which, with its rude sculpture, is to be 
 seen to this day. His name was Walter 
 Biggar. A small heap of stones is raised 
 on the place where they were shot. 
 
 The last look which Walter took of the 
 four corpses, as they lay stretched on the 
 brae, with the blood streaming from them, 
 had nearly turned his brain. His heart 
 sunk within him. For years and days they
 
 176 TEE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 never left his mind's eye, sleeping nor wa- 
 king. He always thought he saw them 
 lying on the green sloping brae, with their 
 pale visages, blue open lips, clasped hands, 
 and dim stedfast eyes still fixed on the Hea- 
 vens. He had heard Clavers and his offi- 
 cers called heroes : He wished those who 
 believed so had been there that day to have 
 judged who were the greatest heroes. 
 
 " There ! let them take that !" said Cap- 
 tain Bruce, as he mounted his horse. 
 
 " Poor misled unfortunate beings !" said 
 Copland, and mounted his. 
 
 « Huh ! Cot t— n !" said Roy Macpher- 
 son, in a voice that seemed to struggle for 
 an outlet ; and Walter, to his astonishment, 
 saw a tear glistening on his rough weather- 
 beaten cheek, as he turned to ride away ! 
 
 The pursuit continued unabated for the 
 whole of that day. There was a great deal 
 of firing, but the hills of Polmoody were 
 inaccessible to cavalry. There was no more 
 blood shed. They lodged that night at a 
 place called Kippelgill, where they put
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 177 
 
 every thing in requisition about the house, 
 and killed some of the cattle. Ciavers was 
 in extremely bad humour, and Walter had 
 no doubt that he once intended to have sa- 
 crificed him that night, but seemed to 
 change his mind, after having again exa- 
 mined him. He was very stern, and threat- 
 ened him wdth the torture, swearing that he 
 knew him to be the supporter of that nest 
 of miscreants that harboured around him, 
 and that though he should keep him pri- 
 soner for a dozen years, he would have it 
 proven on him. Walter made oath that 
 there had never one of them been within 
 his door, consistent with his knowledge j 
 that he had never been at a conventicle ; 
 and proffered to take the test, and oath of 
 abjuration, if allowed to do so. All this 
 would not satisfy Ciavers. Walter said he 
 wondered at his discernment, for, without 
 the least evil or disloyal intent, he found 
 he had rendered himself liable to punish, 
 ment, but how he could be aware of that 
 he knew not. 
 
 h2
 
 178 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 That night Walter was confined in a cow- 
 liouse, under the same guard that had con- 
 ducted him from Chapelhope. The soldiers 
 put his arms round one of the stakes for the 
 cattle, and then screwed on the thumbikins, 
 so that he was fastened to the stake with- 
 out being much incommoded. When Mae- 
 pherson came in at a late hour, (for he was 
 obliged likewise to take up his abode in the 
 cow-house over night), the fir&t word he 
 said was, — 
 
 " Cot t — n, she no pe liking to schee an 
 honest shentleman tied up to a stake^ as 
 she were peing a poollock."^ 
 
 He then began to lecture Walter on the 
 magnitude of folly it would be in him to 
 run away, " when he took it into consider- 
 ation that he had a ponny fhamily, and 
 sheeps, and horses, and bhcasts, that would 
 all pe maide acchountable." 
 
 Walter acknowledged the force of his 
 reasoning; said it was sterling common 
 sense, and that nothing would induce him 
 to attempt such a dangerous experiment as
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 179 
 
 attempting to make his escape. Macpher- 
 son then loosed him aUogether, and coni 
 versed with him until he fell asleep. Wal- 
 ter asked him, what he thought of his case 
 with the general ? Macpherson shook his 
 head. Walter said there was not the sha- 
 dow of a proof against liim ! 
 
 ** No !" said Macpherson ; " py cot's curse 
 but there is ! There is very much deal of 
 proof. Was not there my countrymen and 
 scholdiers murdered on your grhounds? 
 Was not there mhore scoans, and prochin, 
 and muttons in your house, than would 
 have peen eaten in a mhonth by the fha- 
 mily that pelongs to yourself. By the pode 
 more of the auld deal, but there is more 
 proof than would hang twenty poor peheo- 
 ples." 
 
 ** That's but sma' comfort, man ! But 
 what think ye I should do ?" 
 
 «« Cot t— n, if I know !— Who is it that is 
 your Chief?" 
 
 "Chief!— What's that?"
 
 180 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 ** Tat is te head of te clan — Te pig man 
 of your name and fhamily." 
 
 ** In troth, man, an' there isna ane o' my 
 name aboon mysel." 
 
 " Fwat ? Cot's everlasting plissing ! are 
 you te chief of te clan, M*Leadle ? Then, 
 sir, you are a shentleman indeed. Though 
 your clan should pe never so poor, you are 
 a shentleman ; and you must pe giving me 
 your hand j and you need not think any 
 shame to pe giving me your hand ; for her- 
 sel pe a shentleman pred and porn, and 
 furst coosin to Cluny Macpherson's sister- 
 in-law. Who te deal dha more she pe this 
 clan, M*Leadle ? She must be of Macleane. 
 She ance pe prhother to ourselves, but fell 
 into great dishunity by the preaking off of 
 Finlay Gorm More Machalabin Macleane 
 of Ilanterach and Ardnamurchan." 
 
 Walter having thus set Daniel Roy Mac- 
 pherson on the top of his hobby-horse by 
 chance, there was no end of the matter ! 
 He went on with genealogies of uncouth
 
 THE b:iownie of bodsbeck. 181 
 
 names, and spoke of some old free-booters 
 as the greatest of all kings. Walter had no 
 means of stopping him, but by pretending 
 to fall asleep, and when Macpherson ween- 
 ed that no one was listening farther to him, 
 he gave up the theme, turned himself over, 
 and uttered some fervent sentences in Gae- 
 lic, with heavy moans between. 
 
 ** What's that you are saying now," said 
 Walter, pretending to rouse himself up. 
 
 " Pe sad works this," said he. *' Huh ! 
 Cot in heaven aye ! Hersel would be fight- 
 ing te Campbells, sword in hand, for every 
 inch of the Moor of Rhanoch ; but Cot 
 t — n, if she like to pe pluffing and shooting 
 through te podies of te poor helpless insig- 
 nificant crheatures. T — n'd foolish igno- 
 rant peheople ! Cot t — n, if she pe having 
 the good sense and prhudence of a bheast." 
 
 Walter commended his feeling, and again 
 asked his advice with regard to his own 
 conduct. 
 
 <* W1io is te great man tat is te laird to 
 yourself?" asked he.
 
 182 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 " Mr Hay of'DrumelzIer," was answered. 
 
 ** Then lose not a mhoment in getting 
 his very good report or security. All goes 
 by that. It will do more ghood than any 
 stock of innocence ; and you had need to 
 look very sharp, else he may soon cut you 
 short. It's a very good and a very kind 
 man, but she pe caring no more for the 
 lives of peoples, tan I would do for as 
 many ptarmigans." 
 
 Walter pondered on this hint throughout 
 the night ; and the more he did so the more 
 he was convinced, that, as the affairs of the 
 country were then conducted, Macpherson's 
 advice was of the first utility. He sent for 
 one of the shepherds of Kippelgill next 
 morning, charged him with an express to 
 his family, and unable to do any thing fur- 
 ther for himself, submitted patiently to his 
 fate. 
 
 Glavers having been informed that night 
 that some great conventicles had been held 
 to the southward, he arose early, crossed 
 the mountains by the Pennera Corse, and
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 183 
 
 entered that district of the south called 
 Eskdale. He had run short of ammunition 
 by the way, and knowing of no other sup- 
 ply, dispatched Bruce with 20 men by the 
 w^ay of Ettrick, to plunder the aisle where 
 the ancient and noble family of the Scotts 
 of Thirlstane were enshrined in massy lead- 
 en chests. From these he cut the lids, and 
 otherwise damaged them, scattering the 
 bones about in the aisle ; but the Scotts of 
 Daventon shortly after gathered up the re- 
 lics of their ancestors, which they again de- 
 posited in the chests, — closed them up with 
 wooden lids, and buried them deep under 
 the aisle floor, that they might no more be 
 discomposed by the hand of wanton de- 
 pravity. 
 
 At a place called the Steps of Glenderg, 
 Clavers met with Sir James Johnston of 
 Westeraw, with fifty armed men, who gave 
 him an exaggerated account of the district 
 of Eskdale, telling him of such and such 
 field-meetings, and what inflammatory dis- 
 courses had there been delivered, insinua-
 
 184 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 ting all the while that the whole dale ought 
 to be made an example of. Clavers rejoi- 
 ced in his heart at this, for the works of 
 devastation and destruction were beginning 
 to wear short. The Covenanters were now 
 so sorely reduced, that scarcely durst one 
 show his face, unless it were to the moon 
 and stars of Heaven. A striking instance 
 of this I may here relate by the way, as it 
 happened on the very day to which my 
 tale has conducted me. 
 
 A poor wanderer, named, I think. Mat- 
 thew Douglas, had skulked about these 
 mountains, chiefly in a wild glen, called 
 the Caldron, ever since the battle of Both- 
 well-bridge. He had made several narrow, 
 and, as he thought, most providential es- 
 capes, but was at length quite overcome by 
 famine, cold, and watching ; and finding 
 his end approaching, he crept by night into 
 a poor widow's house at Kennelburn, whose 
 name, if my informer is not mistaken, was 
 Ann Hyslop. Ann was not a Cameronian, 
 but being of a gentle and humane disposi-
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 185 
 
 lion, she received the dying man kindly- 
 watched, and even wept over him, adminis- 
 tering to all his wants. But the vital springs 
 of life were exhausted and dried up : He 
 died on the second day after his arrival, 
 and was buried with great privacy, by 
 night, in the church-yard at Westerkirk. 
 
 Sir James Johnston had been a zealous 
 Covenanter, and at first refused the test 
 with great indignation ; but seeing the dan- 
 gerous ground on which he stood^ and that 
 his hand was on the lion's mane, he renoun- 
 ced these principles ; and, to render his 
 apostacy effective, became for a time a most 
 violent distresser of his former friends. He 
 knew at this time that Clavers was coming 
 round ; and in order to ingratiate himself 
 with him, he had for several days been ra- 
 ging up and down the country like a roar- 
 ing lion, as they termed it. It came to his 
 ears what Ann Hyslop had done ; whereon, 
 pretending great rage, he went with his 
 party to the burial ground, digged the 
 body out of the grave, and threw it over the
 
 186 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 church-yard wall for beasts of prey to devour. 
 Forthwith he proceeded to Kennelburn — 
 plundered the house of A ^n Hyslop, and 
 then burnt it to ashes ; but herself he could 
 not find, for she hatl previously absconded. 
 Proceeding to the boundary of the county, 
 he met and welcomed Clavers to his assist- 
 ance, brearhintT nothing but revenge against 
 all non-conformists, and those of his own 
 district in particular. 
 
 Clavers knew mankind well. He percei- 
 ved the moving cause of all this, and did 
 not appear so forward and hearty in the 
 business as Sir James expected. He resol- 
 ved to ravage Eskdale, but to manage mat- 
 ters so that the whole blame might fall on 
 Johnston. This he effected so completely, 
 that he made that knight to be detested 
 there as long as he lived, and his memory 
 to be abhorred after his decease. He found 
 him forward in the cause ; and still the 
 more so that he appeared to be, the more 
 shy and backward was Clavers, appearing 
 to consent to every thing with reluctance.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 187 
 
 They condemned the stocks of sheep on 
 Fingland and the Casways on very shallow 
 grounds. Clavers proposed to spare them ; 
 but Sir James swore that they should not 
 be spared, that their owners might learn 
 the value of conventicles. 
 
 ** Well, well," said Clavers, " since you 
 will have it so, let them be driven off" 
 
 In this manner they proceeded down that 
 unhappy dale, and at Craikhaugh, by sheer 
 accident, lighted on Andrew Hyslop, son 
 to the widow of Kennelburn above-men- 
 tioned. Johnston apprehended him, cursed, 
 threatened, and gnashed his teeth on him 
 with perfect rage. He was a beautiful youth, 
 only nineteen years of age. On his exami- 
 nation, it appeared that he had not been at 
 home, nor had any hand in sheltering the 
 deceased j but he knew, he said, that his 
 mother had done so, and in doing it, had 
 done well ; and he was satisfied that act of 
 her's would be approven of in the eye of 
 the Almighty.
 
 188 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECnr. 
 
 Clavers asked, « Have you ever attended 
 the field conventicles ?" 
 
 « No." 
 
 ** Have you ever preached yourself ?* 
 
 « No." 
 
 ** Do you think that you could preach ?'* 
 
 " I am sure I could not." 
 
 " 1*11 be d — d but you can pray then,** 
 said he. 
 
 He then proffered him his liberty if he 
 would confess that his mother had done 
 wrong, but this he would in no wise do ; 
 for, he said, it would be a sinful and shame- 
 ful lie, he being convinced that his mother 
 had done what was her duty, and the duty 
 of every Christian to do towards his fellow- 
 creatures, 
 
 Johnston swore he should be shot. Clavers 
 hesitated, and made some objections ; but 
 the other persisting, as Clavers knew he 
 would, the latter consented, as formerly, 
 saying, " Well, well, since you will have it 
 so, let it be done — his blood bp on youx
 
 THE BROWNIE O^ BODSBECK. 189 
 
 head, I am free of it. — Daniel Roy Mac- 
 pherson, draw up your file, and put the sen- 
 tence in execution." 
 
 Hyslop .kneeled down. They bade him 
 put on his bonnet, and draw it over his 
 eyes ; but this he calmly refused, saying, 
 ** He had done nothing of which he was 
 ashamed, and could look on his murderers 
 and to Heaven without dismay." 
 
 When Macpherson heard this, and look- 
 ed at him as he kneeled on the ground with 
 his hands pinioned, his beautiful young face 
 turned toward the sky, and his long fair 
 ringlets hanging waving backward, his heart 
 melted within him, and the great tears 
 had for sometime been hopping down his 
 cheeks. When Clavers gave the word of 
 command to shoot the youth, Macpherson 
 drew up his men in a moment — wheeled 
 them off at the side — presented arms — and 
 then answered the order of the general as 
 follows, in a voice that was quite choaked 
 one while, and came forth in great vollies
 
 190 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 at another — *« Now, Cot t — n — sh — sh— 
 she'll rather pe fighting Clavers and all her 
 draghoons, pe — pe — pefore she'll pe killing 
 tat dear good Ihad." 
 
 Captain Bruce burst out into a horse- 
 laugh, leaping and clapping his hands on 
 hearing such a singular reply ; even Clavers 
 had much ado to suppress a smile, which, 
 however, he effected by uttering a horrible 
 curse. 
 
 « I had forgot, Sir James," said he ; 
 *^ Macpherson is as brave a man as ever 
 strode on a field of battle ; but in domestic 
 concerns, he has the heart of a chicken." 
 
 He then ordered four of his own guards 
 to shoot him, which they executed in a mo- 
 ment. Some of his acquaintances )eing pre- 
 sent, they requested permission of Clavers 
 to bury him, which he readily granted, and 
 he was interred on the very spot where he 
 fell. A grave stone was afterwards erected 
 over him, which is still to be seen at Craik- 
 haugh, near the side of the road, a little to 
 the north of the Church of Eskdale-muir.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 191 
 
 Clavers and his prisoner lodged at West- 
 era w that night. Johnston wanted to have 
 him shot ; but to this Ciavers objected, 
 though rather in a jocular manner. 
 
 Walter said, he was sure if S\v James had 
 repeated his reque=^t another time, that Cla- 
 vers' answer would have been, " Well, well, 
 since you will have it so," &c. ; but, for- 
 tunately for Walter, he desisted just in 
 time. 
 
 These two redoubted champions conti- 
 nued their progress all next day ; and on 
 the third, at evening, Clavers crossed Dryfe, 
 wiih nine thousand sheep, three huriilred 
 goats, and about as many cattle and horses, 
 in his train, taken from the people of Esk- 
 dale alone. He took care to herry Sir 
 James's tenants, in particular, of every 
 thing they possessed, and apparently all 
 by their laird's desire, so that very little of 
 the blame attached to the general. He 
 was heard to say to Sir Thomas Living- 
 ston that night, " I trow, we hae left the 
 silly turn-coat a pirn to wind." — But we 
 
 1
 
 192 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 must now leave them to continue their 
 route of rapine and devastation, and return 
 to the distressed family of Chapelhope, in 
 order that we may watch the doings of the 
 Brownie of Bodsbeck.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 193 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 For all Maron Linton's grievous dis- 
 tresses, the arrival of Clerk, the curate, 
 proved an antidote of no small avail. It 
 was a great comfort to her, in the midst of 
 her afflictions ; and after she had been assu- 
 red by him of Walter's perfect safety, she 
 became apparently more happy, and cer- 
 tainly more loquacious, than she had been 
 for a great while byegone. She disclosed 
 to him the dreadful secret, that her child 
 was possessed of an evil spirit, and implo- 
 red his influence with Heaven, and his 
 power with hell, for its removal. This he 
 readily undertook, on condition of being 
 locked up with the maiden for a night, or 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 194 THE BaOWNIE OF BODSBECk; 
 
 two at most. She was to be left solely to 
 his ipanagement ; without the interference 
 of an}' other human being ; and with the 
 help only of the Bible, the lamp, and the 
 hour-glass, he declared that he would drive 
 the unclean spirit from his tabernacle of 
 clay. 
 
 To these conditions Maron Linton gladly 
 assented ; and, with grateful and fond ac- 
 knowledgments, called him their benefac- 
 tor and spiritual guide, their deliverer and 
 shield ; but he checked her, and said, there 
 was still one condition more on which she 
 behoved to condescend. It was likely that 
 he might be under the hard necessity of 
 using some violent measures in exorcising 
 her, for it would be hard to drive the ma- 
 lignant spirit from so sweet a habitation ; but 
 whatever noises might be heard, no one was 
 to interfere, or even listen, upon pain of 
 being delivered up to the foul spirit, soul 
 and body ; and it was ten to one that any 
 who was so imprudent as to intrude on these
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 195 
 
 awful and mysterious rites, might be torn 
 in pieces. 
 
 Maron blest herself from all interference, 
 and gave Nanny directions to the same 
 purport ; as for the two boys, they slept 
 out of hearing. She likewise gave him the 
 key, that he might lock both the doors of 
 the Old Room in the inside, and thus pre- 
 vent all intrusions, should any be offered. 
 He said prayers in the family, to which 
 Katharine was admitted ; and then taking 
 the lamp and the hourglass in his hand, 
 and the Bible below his arm, he departed 
 into the Old Room, where, in about half an 
 hour afterwards, the maiden was summon- 
 ed to attend him. He took her respectfully 
 by the hand, and seated her on a chair at 
 the side of the bed, saying, that he was 
 commissioned by her worthy mother to 
 hold a little private conversation with her. 
 Then locking the door, and putting the 
 key in his pocket, he added, ** You are my 
 prisoner for this night, but be not alarm- 
 ed J I have undertaken to drive an evil
 
 1 96 THE BIIOWNJE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 spirit away from you, but both my exor- 
 cisms and orisons shall be adapted to the 
 feelings of a young maiden, and as agree- 
 able to one whom I so much admire, as it 
 js in my power to make them." 
 o Katharine grew as pale as death as he 
 uttered these words, and placed himself 
 cordially by her side. 
 
 It is unmeet to relate the conversation 
 that ensued ; but the worthy curate soon 
 showed off in his true colours, and with un- 
 blushing front ventured a proposal that 
 shocked the innocent and modest Katha- 
 rine so much, that she could only reply to 
 it by holding up her hands, and uttering a 
 loud exclamation of astonishment. His 
 further precedure soon convinced her, that 
 she was in the hands of a man who was de- 
 termined to take every advantage of the 
 opportunity thus unwarrantably afforded 
 him, and to stick at no atrocity for the ac- 
 complishment of his purposes. 
 
 She neither descended to tears nor en- 
 treaties, but resisted all his approaches with
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 197 
 
 a firmness and dignity that he never con- 
 ceived to have formed any part of her cha- 
 racter ; and, when continuing to press her 
 hand, she said to him, ** You had better 
 keep your distance. Mass John Clerk, and 
 consider what befits your character, and 
 the confidence reposed in you by my unsus- 
 pecting parent j but 1 tell you, if you agaia 
 presume to touch me, though it were but 
 with one of your fingers, I will, in a mo- 
 ment, bring those out of the chink of the 
 * wall, or from under that hearth, that shall 
 lay you motionless at my feet in the twink- 
 ling of an eye, or bear you off to any part 
 of the creation that I shall name." 
 
 He smiled as she said this, and was about 
 to turn it into a jest ; but on looking at 
 her face, he perceived that there was not 
 one trait of jocularity in it. It beamed with 
 a mystical serenity which sent a chiHness 
 through his whole frame ; and, for the first 
 time, he deemed her deranged, or possess- 
 ed in some manner, he wist not how. 
 fStaunch, however, to his honourable pur-
 
 198 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 pose, he became so unequivocal, that she 
 was obhged to devise some means of attain- 
 ing a temporary cessation ; and feigning to 
 hesitate on his proposal, she requested a 
 minute or two to speak. 
 
 " I am but young, Mass John," said she, 
 " and have no experience in the ways of 
 the world ; and it seems, from what you 
 have advanced, that I attach more import- 
 ance to some matters than they deserve. 
 But I beg of you to give me a little time 
 to reflect on the proposal you have made. 
 See that hour-glass is half run out already : 
 I only ask of you not to disturb or impor- 
 tune me until it run out a second time." 
 
 " And do you then promise to do as I 
 request ?" said he. 
 
 *' I do," returned she, " provided you 
 still continue of the same mind as you are 
 now." 
 
 " My mind is made up," said he, ** and 
 my resolution taken in all that relates to 
 you ; nevertheless, it would be hard to re- 
 fuse a maid so gentle and modest a request
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK* 199 
 
 — I grant it — and should you attempt to 
 break off your engagement at the expiry of 
 the time, it shall be the worse for you." 
 
 ** Be it so," replied she ; '* in the mean- 
 time let me be undisturbed till then." And 
 so saying, she arose and went aside to the 
 little table where the Bible and the lamp 
 were placed, and began with great serious- 
 ness to search out, and peruse parts of the 
 sacred volume. 
 
 Clerk liked not this contemplative mood, 
 and tried every wile in his power to draw 
 herattention from the Scriptures. He sought 
 out parts which he desired her to read, if 
 she would read ; but from these she turned 
 away without deigning to regard them, and 
 gently reminded him that he had broken 
 one of his conditions. " Maids only im- 
 pose such conditions on men," said he, " as 
 they desire should be broken." At this 
 she regarded him with a look of ineffable 
 contempt, and continued to read on in her 
 Bible. 
 
 The hour of midnight was now passed,—
 
 200 THE BROWNIE OF 130DSBLCK, 
 
 the sand had nearly run out for the second 
 time since the delay had been acceded to, 
 and Clerk had been for a while tapping the 
 glass on the side, and shaking it, to make 
 it empty its contents the sooner. Katharine 
 likewise began to eye it with looks that 
 manifested some degree of perturbation ; 
 she clasped the Bible, and sate still in one 
 position, as if listening attentively for some 
 sound or signal. The worthy curate at 
 length held the hour-glass up between her 
 eye and the burning lamp, — the last linger- 
 ing pile of sand fell reluctantly out as he 
 shook it in that position, — anxiety and sus- 
 pense settled more deeply on the lovely 
 and serene face of Katharine j but instead 
 of a flexible timidity, it assumed an air of 
 sternness. At that instant the cock crew, — 
 she started, — heaved a deep sigh, like one 
 that feels a sudden relief from pain, and a 
 beam of joy shed its radiance over her 
 countenance. Clerk was astonished, — he 
 could not divine the source or cause of her 
 emotions, but judging from his own corrupt
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. !201 
 
 heart, he judged amiss. True however to 
 his point, he reminded her of her promise, 
 and claimed its fulfilment. She deigned 
 no reply to his threats or promises, but kept 
 her eye steadfastly fixed on another part of 
 the room. He bade her remember that he 
 was not to be mocked, and in spite of^her 
 exertions, he lifted her up in his arms, and 
 carried her across the room towards the 
 bed. She uttered a loud scream, and in a 
 moment the outer-door that entered from 
 the bank was opened, and a being of such 
 unearthly dimensions entered, as you may 
 never wholly define. It was the Brownie 
 of Bodsbeck, sometimes mentioned before, i 
 small of stature, and its whole form utterly 
 mis-shaped. Its beard was long and grey, 
 while its look, and every lineament of its 
 face, were indicative of agony — its locks 
 were thin, dishevelled, and white, and Its 
 back hunched up behind its head. There 
 seemed to be more of the same species 
 of hagard beings lingering behind at the 
 door, but this alone advanced with a slow 
 12
 
 202 THE BROWNIE OF BODSEECK. 
 
 majestic pace. Mass John uttered two in- 
 voluntary cries, somewhat resembhng the 
 shrill bellowings of an angry bull, mixed 
 with inarticulate rumblings, — sunk power- 
 less on the floor, and, with a deep shi- 
 vering groan, fainted away. Katharine, 
 stretching forth her hands, flew to meet 
 her unearthly guardian ; — ** Welcome, my 
 watchful and redoubted Brownie," said 
 she ; " thou art well worthy to be familiar 
 with an empress, rather than an insignifi- 
 cant country maiden." 
 
 *' Brownie's here, Brownie's there^ 
 Brownie's with thee every wherCj" 
 
 said the dwarfish spirit, and led her off in 
 triumph. 
 
 Having bethought herself after she went 
 out, she returned lightly, took the keys 
 from the pocket of the forlorn priest, ex- 
 tinguished the lamp, and again disappear* 
 ed, locking the door on the outside. 
 
 Mass John's trance threw him into a 
 heavy and perturbed slumber, which over-
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECKi S03' 
 
 powered him for a long space ; and even 
 after he awaked, it was long before he could 
 fathom the circumstances of his case, for 
 he imagined he had only been in a fright- 
 ful and oppressiv^e dream ; till, beginning 
 to grope about, he discovered that he was 
 lying on the damp floor with his clothes on ; 
 and at length, without opening his eyes, he 
 recovered by degrees his reasoning facul- 
 ties, and was able to retrace the circum- 
 stances that led to his present situation. 
 He arose ingreatdismay — the day-lighthad' 
 begun to shine into the room, and finding 
 that both doors were locked, he deemed it 
 unadvisable to make any noise, and threw 
 himself upon the bed. The retrospect of 
 his adventure was fraught with shame and 
 astonishment. He had acted a considerable 
 part in it, but he had dreamed of a great 
 deal more, and with all his ingenuity he 
 could not separate in his mind the real in- 
 cidents from those that were imaginary. 
 He arose with the sun, and rapped gently 
 at the inner-door, which, to his still farther^
 
 204 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 astonishment, was opened by Katharine, in 
 her usual neat and cleanly morning dress. 
 He stared in her face, to mark if he could 
 read any meaning in it — he could distin* 
 guish none that spoke a language to him 
 either good or bad-^it was a face of calm 
 decent serenity, and wore no shade of ei- 
 ther shame or anger — somewhat paler than 
 it was the evening before, but still as lovely 
 as ever. The curate seemed gasping for 
 breath, but not having courage to address 
 her, he walked forth to the open air. 
 
 It was a beautiful morning in Septem- 
 ber; the ground was covered with a slight 
 hoar frost, and a cloud of light haze (or 
 as the country people call it, the blue ou- 
 rf^r,)flept upon the long valley of water, 
 and reached nearly midway up the hills. 
 The morning sun shone full upon it, ma- 
 king it appear like an ocean of silvery 
 down. It vanished by imperceptible de- 
 grees into the clear blue firmament, and 
 was succeeded by a warm sun and a south- 
 erly breeze. It was such a morning as
 
 THE BUOW^IE OF BODSBEGK. i05 
 
 could not fail to cheer and re-animate 
 every heart and frame, not wholly over- 
 come by guilt and disease — Clark's were 
 neither — he was depraved of heart, but in- 
 sensible to the evil of such a disposition ; 
 he had, moreover, been a hanger-on from 
 his youth upward, and had an effrontery 
 not to be outfaced. Of course, by the time 
 he had finished a three-hour's walk, he felt 
 himself so much refreshed and invigorated 
 in mind, that he resolved not to expose 
 himself to the goodwife, who was his prin- 
 cipal stay and support among his straggled 
 and dissatisfied flock, by a confession of the 
 dreadful fright he had gotten, but to wea- 
 ther out the storm with as lofty and saint- 
 ly a deportment as he could. 
 
 He had not well gone out when the lad 
 of Kepplegill arrived, and delivered to Ka- 
 tharine her father's letter. She saw the 
 propriety of the injunction which it bore, 
 and that an immediate application to their 
 laird, Drumelzier, who was then high in
 
 206 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 trust and favour with the party in power, 
 was the hkeliest of all ways to procure her 
 father's relief, neither durst she trust the 
 mission to any but herself. But ah ! there 
 was a concealed weight that pressed upon 
 her spirit — a secret circumstance that com- 
 pelled her to stay at home, and which could 
 not be revealed to mortal ear. Her father's 
 fate was at present uncertain and ticklish, 
 but that secret once revealed, tortures, 
 death, and ruin were inevitable— the doom 
 of the whole family was sealed. She knew 
 not what to do, for she had none to advise 
 with. There was but one on earth to whom 
 this secret could be imparted ; indeed there 
 was but one in whose power it was to exe- 
 cute the trust which the circumstances of 
 the case required, and that was old Nanny, 
 who was crazed, fearless, and altogether ia? 
 scrutable. Another trial, however, of her re- 
 ligious principles, and adherence to the esta- 
 blished rules of church government in the 
 country, was absolutely necessary ; and to
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 207 
 
 that trial our young and mysterious heroine 
 went with all possible haste, as well as pre- 
 caution. 
 
 Whosoever readeth this must paint to 
 themselves old Nanny, and they must paint 
 her aright, with her thin fantastic form and 
 antiquated dress, bustling up and down the 
 house. Her fine stock of bannocks had 
 been all exhausted — the troopers and their 
 horses had left nothing in her master's house 
 that could either be eaten or conveniently 
 carried away. She had been early astir, as 
 well as her sedate and thoughtful young 
 dame, had been busy all the morning, and 
 the whole time her tongue never at rest. 
 She had been singing one while, speaking 
 to herself another, and every now and then 
 intermixing bitter reflections on Clavers and 
 his troops. 
 
 " Wae be to them for a pack o' greedy 
 gallayniels — they haena the mence of a mil- 
 ler's yaud ; for though slie'll stap her nose 
 into every body's pock, yet when she's fou 
 she'll carry naething wi' her. IJeichow ! 
 1
 
 208 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 wae's me, that I sude hae lived to see the 
 day ! That ever I sude hae lived to see the 
 colehood take the laverock's place ; and the 
 stanchel and the merlin chatterin' frae the 
 cushat's nest ! Ah ! wae's me ! will the 
 sweet voice o' the turtle-doo be nae mair 
 heard in our land ! There was a time when 
 I sat on the bonny green brae an' listened 
 to it till the tears dreepit frae my een, an* 
 a' the hairs o' my head stood on end ! — The 
 hairs o' my head ? — Ay, that's nae lie ! 
 They're grey now, an' will soon be snaw- 
 white if heart's care can alter them ; but 
 they will never be sae white as they anes 
 war. I saw the siller- grey lock o' age, an' 
 the manly curls o' youth wavin' at my side 
 that day ! — But where are they now ? A* 
 mouled ! a' mouled!— But the druckit 
 blood winna let them rot ! I'll see them rise 
 fresh an' bonny 1 I'll look round to my right 
 hand and ane will sae, * Mother ! my dear 
 mother, are you here with us ?' Ill turn to 
 my left hand, another will say, * Nanny ! 
 my dear and faithful wife, are you too here
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 20f 
 
 with US ?' — I'll say, « Ay, John, Pm here ; 
 I was yours in life ; I have been yours in 
 death ; an' I'll be yours in life again.'— 
 Dear bairn, dear bairn, are you there," con- 
 tinued she, observing Katharine standing 
 close behind her ; " what was I saying, or 
 where was I at ? I little wat outlier what I 
 was saying or doing. — Hout ay ; I was 
 gaun ower some auld things, but they're a' 
 like a dream, an' when I get amang them 
 I'm hardly mysel. Dear bairn, ye maunna 
 mind an auld crazy body's reveries." 
 
 There was some need for this apology, if 
 Nanny's frame, air, and attitude, are taken 
 into account. She was standing with her 
 back to the light, mixing meal with water, 
 whereof to make bread — her mutch, or 
 nigliUhusslng^ as she called it, was tied close 
 down over her cheeks and brow as usual;, 
 her grey locks hanging dishevelled from 
 under it ; and as she uttered the last sen- 
 tence, immediately before noticing her 
 young mistress, her thin mealy hands were
 
 SIO THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 stretched upwards, her hea 1 and body bent 
 back, and her voice Hke one in a paroxysm. 
 Katharine quaked, ahhough well accus- 
 tomed to scenes of no ordinary nature. 
 
 " Nanny," said she, '* there is something 
 that preys upon your mind — some great 
 calamity that recurs to your memory, and 
 goes near to unhinge your tranquillity of 
 mind, if not your reason. Will you in- 
 form me of it, good Nanny, that I may talk 
 and sympathize with you over it ?" 
 
 *^ Dear bairn, nae loss ava — A' profit ! a' 
 profit i'the main ! I haena biggit a bield o' 
 the windlestrae, nor lippened my weight 
 to a broken reed ! Na, na, dear bairn j nae 
 loss ava." 
 
 " But, Nanny, I have overheard you in 
 your most secret hours, in your prayers and 
 self-examinations." 
 
 At 'the mention of this Nanny turned 
 about, and after a wild searching stare in 
 her young mistress's face, while every nerve 
 of her frame seemed to shrink from the re-
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 211 
 
 collection of the disclosures she feared she 
 had made, she answered as follows, in a 
 deep and tremulous tone : — 
 
 <« That was atween God and me — There 
 was neither language nor sound there for 
 the ear o' flesh ! — It was unfair ! — It was 
 unfair ! — Ye are mistress here, and ye keep 
 the keys o' the aumbry, the kitchen, the 
 ha', an' the hale house ; but wi' the secret 
 keys o' the heart and conscience ye hae 
 naething to do ! — the keys o* the sma est 
 portal that leads to heaven or hell are nana 
 o* yours j therefore, what ye hae done was 
 unfair. If I chose, sinful and miserable as 
 I am, to converse with my God about the 
 dead as if they war living, an' of the living 
 as if they war dead, what's that to you ? 
 Or if I likit to take counsel of that which 
 exists only in my own mind, is the rackle 
 hand o' steelrife power to make a handle o 
 that to grind the very hearts of the just and 
 the good, or turn the poor wasted frame o' 
 eild and resignation on the wheel ? — Lack- 
 a-day, my dear bairn, I'm lost again ! Ye
 
 212 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 canna an' ye maimna forgie me now. Walth's 
 dear, an' life's dearer — but sin' it maun be 
 sae, twal o'cJock sanna find me aneath your 
 roof^ — there shall naebody suffer for har- 
 bouring poor auld Nanny— she has seen 
 better days, an' she hopes to see better anes 
 again ; but it's lang sin' the warld's weel an' 
 the warld's wae came baith to her alike. I 
 inaun e'en bid ye fareweel, my bonny bairn, 
 but I maun tell ye ere I gae that ye're i'the 
 hraidway. Ye hae some good things about 
 ye, and O, it is a pity that a dear sweet 
 soul should be lost for want o' light to di- 
 rect ! How can a dear bairn find the right 
 way wi' its een tied up ? But I maun baud 
 my tongue an' leave ye — I wad tain greet, 
 but I hae lost the gate o't, for the fountain- 
 head has been lang run dry — Weel, weel — 
 it's a' ower ! — nae mair about it — How's 
 this the auld sang gaes ? 
 
 When the well runs dry then the rain is nigh, 
 
 The heavens o' earth maun bon'ovv. 
 An* the streams that stray thro* the wastes the day, 
 
 May sail aboon the morrow.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 213 
 
 Then dinna mourn, my bonny bird, 
 
 I dowua bide to hear ye ; 
 The storm may blaw, and the rain may fa', 
 
 But nouther sal come near ye. 
 
 O dinna weep for the day that's gane, 
 
 Nor on the present ponder, 
 For thou shalt sing on the iaverock's wing, 
 
 An' far away beyond her." 
 
 This Nanny sung to an air so soothing, 
 and at the same time so melancholy, it was 
 impossible to listen to her unaffected, espe- 
 cially as she herself was peculiarly so— a 
 beam of wild delight glanced in her eye, 
 but it was like the joy of grief, (if one may 
 be allowed the expression,) if not actually 
 the joy of madness. Nothing could be 
 more interesting than her character was 
 now to the bewildered Katharine — it arose 
 to her eyes, and grew on her mind like a 
 vision. She had been led previously to re- 
 gard her as having been crazed from her 
 birth, and her songs and chaunts to be 
 mere ravings of fancy, strung in rhymes to 
 suit favourite airs, or old scraps of ballads
 
 214 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 void of meaninjj^, that she had learned in 
 her youth. But there was a wild elegance 
 at times in her manner of thinking and ex- 
 pres^iof! — a dash of sublimity that was in- 
 consisterjt with such an idea. " Is it pos- 
 sil»le," (thus reasoned the maiden with her- 
 self,) ** that this demeanour can be the ef- 
 fect of ^reat worldly trouble and loss ? — 
 Perhaps she is berett oi all those who were 
 near and dear to her in life — is left alone 
 as it were in this world, and has lost a re- 
 lish for all its concerns, while her whole 
 hope, heart, and mind, is fixed on a home 
 above, to which all her thoughts, dreams, 
 and even her ravings insensibly turn, and 
 to which the very songs and chaunts of her 
 youthful days are modelled anew. If such 
 is really her case, how I could sympathize 
 with her in all her fieelrngs !" 
 
 ** Nanny," said she, " how wofully you 
 misapprehend me ; 1 came to exchange 
 burdens of heart and conscience with you 
 — to confide in you, and love you : Why 
 will not you do the same with me, and tell
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 215 
 
 me what loss it is that }oli seem to bewail 
 night and day, and what affecting theme it 
 is that thus puts you beside yourself? — If 
 I judge not far amiss, the knowledge of this 
 is of greater import to my peace than aught 
 in the world beside, and will lead to a se- 
 cret from me that clvCply concerns us both." 
 
 Nanny's suspicions were aroused, not 
 laid, by this speech ; she eyed her young 
 mistress steadfastly for a while, smiled, and 
 shook her head. 
 
 " Sae young, sae bonny, and yet sae cun- 
 ning !" said she. " Judas coudna hae sic 
 a face, but he had nouther a fairer tongue 
 nor a fauser heart ! — A secret frae you, 
 dear bairn ! what j^ecret can come frae you, 
 but some bit waefu' love story, enough to 
 mak the pinks an' the ewe gowans blush to 
 the very lip ? My heart's wae for ye, ae 
 way an' a' ways ; but its a part of your 
 curse — woman sinned an' woman maun suf- 
 fer — her hale life is but a succession o' 
 shame, degradation, and suffering, frae her 
 cradle till her grave."
 
 2L6 THE BIIOWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 Katharine was dumb for a space, for rea- 
 soning with Nanny was out of the question* 
 
 «< You may one day rue this misprision of 
 my motives, Nanny," rejoined she ; " in the 
 mean time, I am obliged to leave home, on 
 an express that concerns my father's life 
 and fortune ; be careful of my mother un- 
 til my return, and of every thing about the 
 house, for the charge of all must devolve 
 for a space on you." 
 
 " That I will, dear bairn — the thing that 
 Nanny has ta'en in hand sanna be neglect- 
 ed, if her twa hands can do it, and her auld 
 crazed head comprehend it." 
 
 " But, first, tell me, and tell me serious- 
 ly, Nanny, are you subject to any appre- 
 sion or terror on account of spirits ?' 
 
 " Nae mair feared for them than I am 
 for you, an' no half sae muckle, wi' your 
 leave. — Spirits, quoth I ! 
 
 Little misters it to me 
 Whar they gang, or whar they ride ; 
 Round the hillock, on the lea, 
 Round the auld borral tree, 
 4
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 217 
 
 Or bourock by the burn side ; 
 Deep within the bogle-howe, 
 Wi' his hafFats in a lowe, 
 Wons the waefu* wirricowe. 
 
 " Ah ! noble Cleland ! it is like his way- 
 ward freaks an' whimsies ! Did ye never 
 hear it, you that speaks about spirits as 
 they war your door neighbours ? It's a cle- 
 ver thing; his sister sung it; I think, it 
 rins this gate — hum ! but then the dilogue 
 comes in, and it is sae kamshachle I canna 
 word it, though I canna say it's misleared 
 either." 
 
 " Dear Nanny, that is far from my ques- 
 tion. You say you are nothing afraid of 
 spirits ?" 
 
 *< An' why should I ? If they be good 
 spirits, they will do me nae ill ; and if they 
 be evil spirits, they hae nae power here. 
 Thinkna ye that He that takes care o' me 
 throughout the day, is as able to do it by 
 night ? Na, na, dear bairn, I hae contendit 
 wi' the warst o' a' spirits face to face, hand 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 218 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 to hand, and breast to breast ; ay, an' for 
 a' his power, an' a' his might, I dang him ; 
 and packed him oft' baffled and shamed ! — 
 Little reason hae 1 to be feared for ony o' 
 his black emissaries." 
 
 " Should one appear to you bodily, would 
 you be nothing distracted or frightened?'' 
 
 <* In my own strength I could not stand 
 it, but yet I would stand it." 
 
 ** That gives me joy -r-Then, Nanny, list 
 io me : You will assuredly see one in my 
 absence ; and you must take good heed to 
 my directions, and act precisely as I bid 
 you." 
 
 Nanny gave up her work, and listened in 
 suspense. '* Then it is a' true that the fock 
 says !" said she, with a long-drawn sigh. 
 " His presence be about us !" 
 
 ** How sensibly you spoke just now ! 
 Where is your faith fled already ? 1 tell 
 you there will one appear to you every 
 night in my absence, precisely on the first 
 crowing of the cock, about an hour after 
 midnight, and you -must give him every
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 219 
 
 thing that he asks, else it may fare the 
 worse with you, and all about the house." 
 
 Nanny's limbs were unable to support 
 her weight — they trembled under her. She 
 sat down on a form, leaned her brow upon 
 both hands, and recited the 63d Psalm from 
 beginning to end in a fervent tone. 
 
 " I wasna prepared for this," said she. 
 " I fear, though my faith may stand it, my 
 wits will not. Dear, dear bairn, is there 
 nae way to get aff frae sic a trial ?" 
 
 " There is only one, which is fraught 
 with danger of another sort ; but were I 
 sure that I could trust you with it, all 
 might be well, and you would rest free 
 from any intercourse with that unearthly 
 visitant, of whom it seems you are so much 
 in terror." 
 
 " For my own sake ye may trust me 
 there : Ony thing but a bogle face to face 
 at midnight, an' me a' my lane. It is right 
 wondertu', though I ken I'll soon be in a 
 warld o' spirits, an' that I maun mingle an' 
 mool wi' them for ages, how the nature
 
 220 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 within me revolts at a' communion wi' them 
 liere. Dear bairn, gie me your other plan, 
 an' trust me for my own sake." 
 
 " It is this — but if you adopt it, for your 
 life an' soul let no one in this place know 
 of it but yourself: — It is to admit one or 
 two of the fugitive whigs, — these people 
 that skulk and pray about the mountains, 
 privily into the house every night, until 
 my return. If you will give me any test 
 of your secrecy and truth, I will find ways 
 and means of bringing them to you, which 
 will effectually bar all intrusion of bogle or 
 Brownie on your quiet ; or should any such 
 dare to appear, they will deal with it them- 
 selves." 
 
 " An' can the presence o' ane o' tkein do 
 this ?" said Nanny, starting up aod speak- 
 ing in a loud eldrich voice. " Then Hea- 
 ven and hell acknowledges it, an' the earth 
 maun soon do the same ! 1 knew it ! — I 
 knew it ! — I knew it ! — ha, ha, ha, I knew 
 it !— Ah 1 John, thou art safe ! — Ay ! an' 
 mae than thee j aa' there will be mae yet ! 
 
 9
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 221 
 
 It is but a day ! an' dark an' dismal though 
 it be, the change will be the sweeter ! 
 Blessed, blessed be the day ! None can say 
 of thee that thou died like a fool, for thy 
 hands were not bound, nor thy feet put in- 
 to fetters." Then turning close round to 
 Katharine, with an expression of counte- 
 nance quite indescribable, she added in a 
 quick maddened manner, — '• Eh ? Thou 
 seekest a test of me, dost thou ? Can blood 
 do it ? — Can martyrdom do it ? — Can bonds, 
 wounds, tortures, and mockery do it ? — 
 Can death itself do it ? All these have / 
 suffered for that cause in this same body ; 
 mark that ; for there is but one half of my 
 bone and my flesh here. But words are no- 
 thing to the misbelieving — mere air mouth- 
 ed into a sound. Look at this for a test of 
 my sincerity and truth." So saying, she 
 gave her hand a wild brandish in the air, 
 darted it at her throat, and snapping the 
 tie of her cap that she had always worn 
 over her face, she snatched it off, and turn- 
 ing her clieek round to her young mistress.
 
 2!22 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK 
 
 added, " Look there for your test, and if 
 that is not enough, I will give you more !" 
 
 Katharine was struck dumb with astonish- 
 ment and horror. She saw that her ears 
 were cut out close to the skull, and a C. R. 
 indented on her cheek with a hot iron, as 
 deep as the jaw-bone. She burst out a 
 crying — clasped the old enthusiast in her 
 arms — kissed the wound and steeped it with 
 her tears, and without one further remark, 
 led her away to the Old Room, that they 
 might converse without interruption. 
 
 The sequel of this disclosure turned not 
 out as desired ; but this we must leave by 
 the way, until we overtake it in the regu^ 
 lar course of the narrative.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 2123 
 
 CHAPTER Xir. 
 
 As SOON as her father's letter was put in- 
 to her hands, Katharine sent off one of her 
 brothers to Muchrah, to warn ohl John 
 and his son to come instantly to Chapel- 
 hope. They both arrived while she a ad 
 Nanny were consulting in the Old Room, 
 She told them of her father's letter, of the 
 jeopardy he was in, and of her intended 
 application to Drummelzier without loss of 
 time. *' One of you," said she, ** must ac- 
 company me ; and I sent for you both, to 
 learn wiiich could, with least inconveni^ 
 ence, be wanted from your flocks." 
 
 " As for me," said John, " it's out o' the 
 question to thinh about me winning away. 
 The ewes wad gang wi' the bit hog-fence
 
 224 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 o' the Qaave Brae, stoup and roup. What 
 wi' ghaists, brownies, dead men, an' ae mis- 
 chief an' other, it is maistly gane already ; 
 an* what's to come o' the poor bits o' plot- 
 tin baggits a' winter, is raair nor I can tell. 
 They may pike the woo afFane another for 
 aught that I see." 
 
 Katharine w^as grieved to hear this remon- 
 strance, for she was desirous of having old 
 John as a guide and protector, who well 
 knew the way, and was besides singular for 
 strength and courage, if kept among beings 
 of this world. She represented to him that 
 the hog- fence of the Quave-Brae, could not 
 possibly be of equal importance with his 
 master's life, nor yet with the loss of his 
 whole stock, both of sheep and cattle, which 
 might be confiscated, if prompt measures 
 were not adopted. Nothing, however, 
 could persuade John, that ought could be 
 of equal importance to him with that which 
 he had the charge of, and on which his heart 
 and attention were so much set both by 
 day and night. He said he had lost his lugs,
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 225 
 
 and been brunt wi* the king's birn, for the 
 hog-fence of the Quave-Brae ; and when 
 he coiidna get away to the prison at Edin- 
 burgh for fear o't, but suffered sae muckle 
 in place o' that, how could he win away a' 
 the gate to Dunse Castle ? 
 
 Jasper liked not the journey more than 
 he ; for being convinced of Katharine\s 
 power over spirits, he was very jealous of 
 her taking undue advantages of him, but he 
 was obliged to submit. He refused a horse, 
 saying ** it would only taigle him, but if she 
 suffered him to gang on his feet, if be was 
 hindmost at Dunse, he should gie her leave 
 to cut the lugs out o' his head too, and then 
 he wad hae the thief's mark on him like his 
 father." 
 
 Away they went ; she riding on a stout 
 shaggy poney, and Jasper running before 
 her barefoot, but with his hose and shoon 
 bound over his shoulder. He took the 
 straight line for Dunse, over hill and dale, 
 as a shepherd always does, who hates the 
 wimples, as he calls them, of a turnpike. 
 K 2
 
 226 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 He took such a line as an eagle would take, 
 or a flock of wild geese journeying from the 
 one side of the country to the other, never 
 once reflecting on the inconvenience of ri- 
 ding on such a road. Of course, it was im- 
 possible his young mistress could keep up 
 with him — indeed she had often enough to 
 do in keeping sight of him. They met with 
 some curious adventures by the way, parti- 
 cularly one near Thirlestane castle on Lea- 
 der, with some stragglers of a troop of sol- 
 diers. But these things we must hurry 
 over as extraneous matter, having nothing 
 more to do with them than as connected 
 with the thread of our tale. They slept 
 that night at a farm-house in Lammermoor, 
 which belonged to Drummelzier, and next 
 day by noon arrived at Dunse Castle. 
 
 Drummelzier, being one of the Committee 
 of Public Safety, was absent from home, to 
 which he did not return for several days, 
 to the great perplexity of Katharine, who 
 was in the utmost distress about her father, 
 as well as her affairs at home. She was 
 1
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 2^7 
 
 obliged, however, to wait with patience, as 
 no one knew in what part of the country 
 he was. The housekeeper, who was an 
 EngUshwoman, was kind to her, and bade 
 her not be afraid, for that their master had 
 much more power with the government 
 than Claverhouse, the one being a moving 
 spring, and the other only a tool. 
 
 Drummelzier was a bold and determined 
 royalist — was, indeed, in high trust with 
 the Privy-council, and had it in his power 
 to have harassed the country as much, and 
 more, than the greater part of those who 
 did so ; but, fortunately for that south-east 
 division of Scotland, he was a gentleman of 
 high honour, benevolence, and suavity of 
 manners, and detested any act of injustice 
 or oppression. He by these means contri- 
 buted materially to the keeping of a large 
 division of Scotland (though as whiggishly 
 inclined as any part of it, Ayrshire per- 
 haps excepted,) in perfect peace. The 
 very first dash that Clavers made among 
 the Covenanters, while he was as yet only
 
 228 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 a captain of a company, was into this divi- 
 sion of the country over which Drummel- 
 zier was appointed to keep an eye, and it 
 was in consequence of his intrepid and de- 
 cided behaviour there, that the Duke of 
 York interested himself in his behalf, and 
 procured him the command of a troop of 
 horse. At a place called Bewly, on the 
 confines of Roxburghshire, he surprised a 
 large conventicle about eleven o^ clock on a 
 Sabbath morning. Having but a small band, 
 as soon as he appeared a crowd of the 
 hearers gathered round the preacher to de- 
 fend him, or to further his escape. Clavers 
 burst in upon them like a torrent ; killed 
 and wounded upwards of an hundred ; took 
 the preacher prisoner, and all such of the 
 hearers as were the most respectable in ap- 
 pearance. He would have detained many 
 more had his force been sufficient for his de- 
 signs, for that very day, about five o'clock in 
 the afternoon, he surprised another numer- 
 ous conventicle, at a place called Helmburn- 
 Linn, in Selkirkshire, where he acted over
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 229 
 
 the same scene that he had done in the 
 morning. The people, it is true, did not 
 get time to rally round their pastor as at 
 the former place, for the first intelligence 
 they had of his approach was from a volley 
 of musketry among them from the top of 
 the linn, which took too sure effect. 
 
 The congregation scattered in a moment j 
 and as there were strong fastnesses near at 
 hand, none were taken prisoners, save some 
 old men, and a number of ladies ; unfortu- 
 nately all these were ladies of distinction : 
 the preacher likewise was taken, who suf- 
 fered afterwards. The soldiers related of 
 this man, that when they came upon the 
 crowd, and fired among them, he was in 
 the middle of his afternoon prayer, and all 
 the people standing uncovered around him ; 
 and that for all the shots, and the people 
 flying and falling dead about him, he never 
 so much as paused, nor took down his 
 hands, nor even opened his eyes, but con- 
 cluded a sentence in the same fervent tone, 
 after they had dragged him from the tent.
 
 230 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 At one or other of these unfortunate con- 
 venticles, a part of all the chief families of 
 the Pringles, such as Torwoodlee, White- 
 bank, Fairniiie, and others, were taken pri- 
 soners ; as well as some of the Scotts of 
 Harden, and the Douglasses of Cavers and 
 Boonjeddart ; rich prizes for Glavers, who 
 bore them all in triumph prisoners to Edin- 
 burgh. 
 
 Drummelzier put his whole interest to the 
 stretch to get these leading and respect- 
 able families freed from such a disagreeable 
 dilemma, and succeeded in getting the 
 greater part of them set at liberty, on gi- 
 ving securities. From that time forth, there 
 existed a secret jealousy between him and 
 Clavers ; but as their jurisdiction lay on dif- 
 ferent sides of the country, they had no 
 further interference with one another. 
 
 When Katharine informed him, that his 
 farmer, whom he so much esteemed, was 
 taken away a prisoner, and by whom, he 
 bit his lip, shook his head, and seemed 
 highly incensed. He then questioned her
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 2Sl 
 
 about all the charges against him, and the 
 evidence ; requesting her, at the same 
 time, to tell him the truth, in all its bear- 
 ings, to the most minute scruple ; and 
 when lie had heard all, he said, that his 
 lordship had other motives for this cap. 
 ture besides these. He lost no time in set- 
 ting about the most coercive measures he 
 could think of, to procure his liberty. He 
 sent an express to the Privy-council, and 
 wrote to sundry other gentlemen, whom 
 Katharine knew nothing of; but the desti- 
 nation of Walter being utterly unknown to 
 either of them, the laird was at a loss how 
 to proceed. 
 
 He gave her, moreover, a bond of secu- 
 rity, signed with his name, and without a 
 direction, to a great amount, for her father's 
 appearance at any court, to answer such 
 charges as were brought against him ; and 
 with this she was to haste to the place 
 where her father was a prisoner, and pre- 
 sent it to the sheriff of the county, or chief 
 magistrate of the burgh of such place, un-
 
 232 THE BROWNIE OF BOD8BECK. 
 
 less it was at Edinburgh, and in that case 
 she was to take no farther care or concern 
 about him. 
 
 She hasted home with her wild guide, 
 where she arrived the fourth or fifth day 
 after her departure ; and found, to her as- 
 tonishment, the Chapelhope deserted by 
 man, woman, and boy ! Not a living crea- 
 ture remained about the steading, but her 
 father's dog and some poultry ! The doors 
 were locked, and the key away ; and, hun- 
 gry and fatigued as she was, she could find 
 no means of admittance. At length, on 
 looking about, she perceived that the cows 
 were not about the house, nor any where 
 in the corn, and concluding that some one 
 must be herding them, she went up the side 
 of the lake to their wonted walk, and found 
 her two brothers attending the cattle. 
 
 They told her that the town (so they al- 
 ways denominate a farm-steading in that 
 district,) had been so grievously haunted 
 in her absence, both by Brownie and a 
 ghost, that they were all obliged to leave
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 235 
 
 it ; that their mother was gone all the 
 way to Gilmanscleuch to her brother, to re- 
 main there until she saw what became of her 
 husband 5 Mass John was taken away by) 
 the fairies ; and old Nanny was at Riskin* 
 hope, where they were also residing and 
 sleeping at night ; that the keys of the 
 house were to be had there, but nothing 
 would induce Nanny to come back again to 
 Chapelhope, or at least to remain another 
 night under its roof. 
 
 One mischief came thus upon poor Katha- 
 rine after another ; and she was utterly un- 
 able to account for this piece of intelligence, 
 having been satisfied when she went away, 
 that she had put every thing in train to se- 
 cure peace and order about the house, un- 
 til her return. She rode to Risldnhope for 
 the key, but not one would accompany her 
 home, poor Nanny being lying moaning 
 upon a bed. Jasper sat on the side of the 
 hill, at a convenient distance from the house, 
 until her return ; but then took her horse 
 from her, and put it away to the rest, re-
 
 234 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 fusing to enter the door. Thus was she 
 left in her father's house all alone. Nanny 
 came over, and assisted her in milking the 
 kine evening and morning ; and she re- 
 mained the rest of the day, and every night, 
 by herseh, neither did she press any one 
 much to bear her company. She had no 
 one to send in search of her father, and 
 deliver Drummelzier's bond, at least none 
 that any one knew of, yet it was sent^ and 
 that speedily, although to little purpose ; 
 for though Walter was sent to Dumfries 
 Jail, he remained there but two nights ; a 
 party of prisoners, of ten men and two 
 women, being ordered for Edinburgh, un- 
 der a guard of soldiers, he was mixed indis- 
 criminately with the rest, and sent there 
 along with them. 
 
 He always said, that though he was dis- 
 posed to think well of Clavers before he 
 saw him, yet he never was so blithe in his 
 life as when he got from under his jurisdic- 
 tion ; for there was an appearance of fero- 
 city and wantonness of cruelty in all his
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 235 
 
 proceedings, during the time that he rode 
 in his train a prisoner, that made the heart 
 of any man, not brutified by inurement to 
 such scenes, revolt at the principles that 
 induced, as well as the government that 
 warranted them. He saw him and his 
 troopers gather the whole vale of Annan- 
 dale, as a shepherd gathers his sheep in 
 droves, pricking the inhabitants with their 
 swords to urge then' speed. When he got 
 thus all the people of a parish, or division 
 of a parish, driven together, he surround- 
 ed them with his soldiers, made them 
 kneel by dozens, and take the oath of ab- 
 juration, as well as one acknowledging 
 James Duke of York their rightful lord 
 and sovereign ; and lastly, made them re- 
 nounce their right and part in Heaven, if 
 ever they repented them of that oath. The 
 first man of such a group, who refused or 
 objected to compliance with this dreadful 
 measure, he took him forthwith behind the 
 ranks and shot him, which summary way 
 of proceeding generally induced all the
 
 236 THE BROWNIE OF B0DSI3ECK. 
 
 people to comply. Moreover, the way in 
 which he threatened and maltreated chil- 
 dren, and mocked and insulted women, not 
 to mention more brutal usage of them, pro- 
 ved him at once to be destitute of the be- 
 haviour and feelings becoming a man, far 
 less those of a gentleman. He seemed to 
 regard all the commonalty in the south and 
 west of Scotland as things to be mocked and 
 insulted at pleasure, as beings created only 
 for the sport of him and his soldiers, while 
 their mental and bodily agonies were his 
 delight. The narrator of this tale confesses 
 that he has taken this account of his raid 
 through the vales of Esk and Annan solely 
 from tradition, as v/ell as the attack mad€ 
 on the two conventicles, where the Pringles, 
 &c, were taken prisoners ; but these tradi- 
 tions are descended from such a source, and 
 by such a line, as amounts with him to ve- 
 racity. 
 
 Far different were Walter's feelings on 
 parting with the commander of his guard, 
 Serjeant Daniel Roy Macpherson, a noble
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 237 
 
 block from the genuine quarry of nature — 
 rude as it was taken thence, without the 
 mark of hammer or chisel. When he heard 
 that his prisoner was to be taken from un- 
 der his charge, he made up to him when 
 out of the eye of his commander, and treat- 
 ed him with a parting speech ; which, on 
 account of its singularity, is here preserved, 
 though, doubtless, woefully garbled by be- 
 ing handed from one southland generation 
 to another, 
 
 *' Now he'll pe tahaking you away from 
 mhe pefore as it were yesterdhay ; and 
 he'll pe putting you into some vhile dark 
 hole with all te low tamn pwigs that come 
 from te hills of Gallochee and Drummoch* 
 loonrich, which is a shame and a disgrhace 
 to shut up a shentleman who is chief of a 
 clan among such poor crhazy maniachs, 
 who will pe filling your ears full of their 
 rejoicings in spirit j and of Haiven ! and 
 Haiven ! just as if they were all going to | 
 Haiven ! Cot t — n, do they suppose that / 
 Haiven is to pe filled full of such poor in- /
 
 238 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 signaificant crheatures as they ? or that 
 Cot is not a shentlemati, that he would pe 
 falhng into such cohmpany ? But I'll pe 
 giving you advice as a friend and prhother ; 
 when you come pefore the couhnsel, or any 
 of their commissioners, do not you pe talk- 
 ing of Haiven, and Haiven, and of con- 
 science and covenants. And do not you pe 
 pragging and poasting of one to pe your 
 chiefi or to pe of a clan that has not a friend 
 at court ; but tell them your own clan, and 
 your claims to be its chief j and if you do 
 not know her true descent, you had better 
 claim Macpherson ; she pe as ould and as 
 honourable a clan as any of them all, and 
 more." 
 
 Walter said, he trusted still to the proofs 
 of his own loyalty, and the want of evi- 
 dence to the contrary, 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh ! Cot tamn !" said Mac- 
 pherson ; " I tell you the evidence you want 
 is this, if any great man say you ought to 
 live, you will live ; if not, you will die.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. S39 
 
 Did not I was telling you that the soholdiers 
 that were found dead in the correi, on the 
 lands that belong to yourself, was evidence 
 enough and more ; I would not pe giving 
 a curse for ijoiir evidence after that, for the 
 one is much petter tlian te other. And py 
 Cot, it is very well thought 1" continued he, 
 smiling grimly, <* if you will pe preaking 
 out into a rage, and pe cursing and tamn- 
 ing them all, you will get free in one mo- 
 ment." 
 
 Walter said, that would be an easy ran- 
 som, and though it was an error he was too 
 apt to fall into when angry, he could see 
 no effect it could have in this case, but to ir- 
 ritate his prosecutors more and more against 
 him. 
 
 ** You see no effect I Cot t — n, if you ever 
 can see any effect peyond the top that is 
 on your nose ! and you will not pe advised 
 by a man of experience, who would do 
 more for you than he would pe commend- 
 ing of; and if you trust to what you can see, 
 you will pe dancing a beautiful Highland
 
 ^40 THE BROVVNIK OF BODSBECK. 
 
 shig in the air to a saulm tune, and that 
 will have a very good effect. I tell you, 
 when you come again to be questioned, I 
 know my Lord Dundee is to be there to pe 
 adducing his proof; take you great and 
 proud offence at some of their questions 
 and their proofs ; and you may pe making 
 offer to fight them all one by one, or two 
 by two, in the king's name, and send them 
 all to hell in one pody ; you cannot pe 
 tamning them too much sore. By the soul 
 of Rory More Macpherson ! I would al- 
 most gite up this claymore to be by and 
 see that effect. Now you are not to pe 
 minding because I am laughing like a fool, 
 for I'm perfectly serious ; if matters should 
 pe standing hard with you, think of the ad- 
 vice of an ould friend, who respects you as 
 the chief of the clan MacLeadle, supposing 
 it to pe as low, and as much fallen down as 
 it may. — Farewell ! she pe giving you her 
 hearty Col's blessing." 
 
 Thus parted he with Daniel Roy Mac- 
 pherson, and, as he judged, an unfortunate
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 241 
 
 change it was for him. The wretch who now 
 took the command of their guard had all the 
 ignorance and rudeness of the former, with- 
 out any counterbalance of high feeling and 
 honour like him. His name was Patie Ingles, 
 a temporary officer, the same who cut off 
 the head of the amiable Mr White with an 
 axe, at Kilmarnock, carried it to New-mills, 
 and gave it to his party to play a game with 
 at foot-ball, which they did. Ingles was drunk 
 during the greater part of the journey, and 
 his whole dehght was in hurting, mortify- 
 ing, and mimicking his prisoners. Tliey 
 were all bound together in pairs, and dri- 
 ven on in that manner like coupled dogs. )> 
 This was etrected by a very simple process. 
 Tneir hands were fastened behind, the right 
 ami left arm of each pair being linked with- 
 in one another. Walter was tied to a httle 
 spare Galloway weaver, a man wholly prone 
 to controversy— he wanted to argue every 
 point — on which account he was committed. 
 Yet, when among the Cameronians, he took 
 their principles as severely to task as he did 
 
 TOL. I, L
 
 224 THE BROWNIE OF BO0SBECK. 
 
 those of the other party when examined by 
 them. He lived but to contradict. Often 
 did he try Walter with different points of 
 opinion regarding the Christian Church. 
 Walter knewsolittle about them thatthe wea- 
 ver was astonished. He tried him with the 
 apologetical declaration. Walter had never 
 heard of it. He could make nothing of his 
 gigantic associate, and at length began a 
 sly enquiry on what account he was com- 
 mitted ; but even on that he received no 
 satisfactory information. 
 
 Ingles came staggering up with them. 
 " Weel, Master Skinflint, what say you to 
 it the day ? This is a pleasant journey, is it 
 not ? Eh ? — I say. Master, what do they 
 call you ! Peal-an'-eat, answer me in this — 
 you see — I say — Is it not delightful ? Eh ?" 
 
 " Certainly, sir," said the weaver, who 
 •wished to be quit of him ; ** very delight- 
 ful to those who feel it so." 
 
 " Feel it so ! — D — n you, sirrah, what do 
 you mean by that ? Do you know who you 
 are speaking to ? Eh ? — Answer me in this 
 •^What do you mean by Feel it so f Eh ?"
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECIC ^43 
 
 " I meant nothing," returned the wea- 
 ver, somewhat snappishly, *« but that kind 
 of respect which I always pay to gentry like 
 you." 
 
 ** Gentry like me ! — D — n you, sir, if you 
 speak such a — Eh ? — Gentry like me ! — I'll 
 spit you like a cock pheasant — Eh ? Have 
 you any of them in Galloway ? Answer me 
 in this, will you ? Eh ?" 
 
 " I'll answer any reasonable thing, sir," 
 said the poor weaver. 
 
 " Hout ! never head the creature, man/ 
 said Walter ; " it's a poor drunken sense- 
 less beast of a thing." 
 
 Ingles fixed his reeling unsteady eye$ 
 upon him, filled with drunken rage — walked 
 on, spitting and looking across the way for 
 a considerable space-^** What the devil of 
 a whig camel is this ?" said he, crossing over 
 to Walter's side. " Drunken senseless beast 
 of a thing ! Holm, did you hear that ?— 
 Macwhinny, did you ? — Eh ? 1*11 scorn to 
 shoot the cusser, though I could do it— 
 Eh ? But ril kick him like a dog— Eh ?—
 
 244 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 Take that, and that, will you ? Eh ?" And 
 so saying, he kicked our proud-hearted and 
 independant Goodman of Chapelhope with 
 his plebeian foot, staggering backward each 
 time he struck. 
 
 Walter's spirit could not brook this ; and 
 disregardful of all consequences, he wheeled 
 about with his face toward him, dragging 
 the weaver round with a jerk, as a mastiff 
 sometimes does a spaniel that is coupled to 
 him ; and, as Ingles threw up his foot to 
 Kick him on the belly, he followed up his 
 heel with his foot, giving him such a fling 
 upwards as made him whirl round in the air 
 like a reel. He fell on his back, and lay 
 motionless ; on which, several of the party 
 of soldiers levelled their muskets at Walter. 
 " Ay, shoot," said he, setting up his board- 
 ly breast to them — " Shoot at me if you 
 dare, the best o* ye." 
 
 The soldiers cocked their pieces, 
 *' Your Colonel himsel durstna wrang a 
 hair o* my head, though fain he wad hae
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 245 
 
 done sae, without first gieing me ower to 
 his betters — Let me see if a scullion amang 
 ye a' dare do mair than he." 
 
 The soldiers turned their eyes, waiting 
 for the word of command ; and the weaver 
 kept as far away from Walter as the nature 
 of his bonds would let him. The command 
 of the party now devolved on a Serjeant 
 Douglas ; who, perhaps nothing sorry for 
 what had happened, stepped in between the 
 soldiers and prisoner, and swore a great 
 oath, that " what the prisoner said was the 
 truth J and that all that it was their duty to 
 do was, to take the prisoners safe to Edin- 
 burgh, as at first ordered ; and there give 
 their evidence of this transaction, which 
 would send the lousy whig to hell at once, 
 provided there was any chance of his other- 
 wise escaping." 
 
 They lifted Ingles, and held him up into 
 the air to get breath, loosing meantime his 
 cravat and clothes ; on which he fell to vo 
 mit severely, owing to the fall he had got, 
 and the great quantity of spirits he had
 
 ^46 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 drunk. They waited on him for about two 
 hours ; but as he still continued unable 
 either to speak or walk, they took him into 
 a house called Granton, and proceeded on 
 their destination. 
 
 This Douglas, though apparently a supe- 
 rior person to the former commander of 
 the party, was still more intolerant and 
 cruel than he. There was no indignity or 
 inconvenience that he could fasten on his 
 prisoners which he did not exercise to the * 
 utmost. They lodged that night at a place 
 called Tweedshaws -, and Walter used al- 
 ways to relate an occurrence that took 
 place the next morning, that strongly mark- 
 ed the character of this petty officer, as well 
 as the licensed cruelty of the times. 
 
 Some time previous to this, there had 
 been a fellowship meeting, at a place called 
 Tallo-Lins, of the wanderers that lurked 
 about Chapelhope and the adjacent moun- 
 tains. About eighty had assembled, merely 
 to spend the night in prayer, reading the 
 Scriptures, &c. The curate of Tweeds-
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 24? 
 
 ixiuir, a poor dissolute wretch, sent a flaming 
 account of this in writing to the privy coun- 
 cil, magnifying that simple affair to a great 
 and dangerous meeting of armed men. The 
 council took the alarm, raised the hue and 
 cry, and offered a reward for the appre- 
 hending of any one who had been at the 
 meeting of Tallo-Lins. The curate, learn- 
 ing that a party of the king's troops was 
 lodged that night in his parish and neigh- 
 bourhood, came to Tweedshaws at a late 
 hour, and requested to speak with the cap- 
 tain of the party. He then informed Dou- 
 glas of the meeting, shewed him the coun- 
 cil's letter and proclamation, and finally 
 told him that there was a man in a cottage 
 hard by whom he strongly suspected to 
 have formed one at the meeting alluded to 
 in the proclamation. There being no con- 
 veniency for lodging so many people at 
 Tweedshaws, Douglas and the curate drank 
 together all the night, as did the soldiers 
 in another party. A number of friends to 
 the prisoners had given them money when
 
 248 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 they left Dumfries for Edinburgh, to sup. 
 ply as well as they might the privations to 
 which they would be subjected ; but here 
 the military took the greater part of it from 
 them to supply their intemperance. About 
 the break of day, they went and surround- 
 ed a shepherd's cottage belonging to the 
 farm of Corehead, having been led thither 
 by the curate, where they found the shep- 
 herd an old man, his daughter, and one 
 Edward M*Cane, son to a merchant in La- 
 narkshire, who w^as courting this shep- 
 herdess, a beautiful young maiden. The 
 curate having got intehigence that a stran- 
 ger was at that house, immediately suspect- 
 ed him to be one of the wanderers, and on 
 this surmise the information was given. 
 The curate acknowledged the shepherd and 
 his daughter as parishioners, but of M'Cane, 
 he said, he knew nothing, and had no 
 doubt that he was one of the rebellious 
 whigs» They fell to examine the youth, 
 but they were all affected with the liquor 
 they had drunk over night, and made a
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 249 
 
 mere farce of it, paying no regard to his 
 answers, or, if they did, it was merely to 
 misconstrue or mock them. He denied ha- 
 ving been at the meeting at Tallo-Linns, 
 and all acquaintance with the individuals 
 whom they named as having been there 
 present. Finding that they could make no- 
 thing of him whereon to ground a charge, 
 Douglas made them search him for arms ; 
 for being somewhat drunk, he took it high- 
 ly amiss that he should have been brought 
 out of his way for nothing. M*Cane judged 
 himself safe on that score, for he knew that 
 he had neither knife, razor, bodkin, nor 
 edged instrument of any kind about him ; 
 but as ill luck would have it, he chanced 
 to have an old gun-flint in his waistcoat 
 pocket. Douglas instantly pronounced this 
 to be sufficient, and ordered him to be 
 shot. M*Cane was speechless for some time 
 with astonishment, and at length told his 
 errand, and the footing on which he stood 
 with the young girl before them, offering 
 at the same time to bring proofs from his 
 L a
 
 250 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 own parish of his loyalty and conformity. 
 He even condescended to kneel to the ruf- 
 fian, to clasp his knees, and beg and be- 
 seech of him to be allowed time for a regu- 
 lar proof; but nothing would move him. 
 He said, the courtship was a very clever 
 excuse, but would not do with him, and 
 forthwith ordered him to be shot. He 
 would not even allow him to sing a psalm 
 with his two friends, but cursed and swore 
 that the devil a psalm he should sing there. 
 He said, " It would not be singing a few 
 verses of a psalm in a wretched and miser- 
 able style that would keep him out of hell ; 
 and if he went to heaven, he might tlien 
 lilt as much at psalm-singing as he had a 
 mind." When the girl, his betrothed sweet- 
 heart, saw the muskets levelled at her lover, 
 she broke through the file, shrieking most 
 piteously, threw herself on him, clasped his 
 neck and kissed him, crying, like one dis- 
 tracted, " O Edward, take me wi' ye — take 
 me wi' ye ; a' the warld sanna part us." 
 " Ah ! Mary,'' said he, <* last night we
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 251 
 
 looked forward to long and happy years- 
 how joyful were our hopes ! but they are 
 all blasted at once. Be comforted, my 
 dearest, dearest heart ! — God bless you ! — 
 Farewell forever." 
 
 The soldiers then dragged her backward, 
 mocking her with indelicate remarks, and 
 while she was yet scarcely two paces re- 
 moved, and still stretching out her hands 
 towards him, six balls were lodged in his 
 heart in a moment, and he fell dead at her 
 feet. Deformed and bloody as he was, she 
 pressed the corpse to her bosom, moaning 
 and sobbing in such a way as if every throb 
 would have been her last, and in that con- 
 dition the soldiers marched merrily off and 
 left them. For this doughty and noble 
 deed, for which Serjeant Douglas deserved 
 to have been hanged and quartered, he 
 shortly after got a cornetcy in Sir Thomas 
 Livingston's troop of horse. 
 
 Two of the prisoners made their escape 
 that morning, owing to the drunkenness of 
 their guards, on which account the remain-
 
 252 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECX. 
 
 der being blamed, were more haughtily and 
 cruelly treated than ever. It is necessary 
 to mention all these, as they were after- 
 wards canvassed at Walter's trial, the ac- 
 count of which formed one of his winter 
 evening tales as long as he lived. Indeed, 
 all such diffuse and miscellaneous matter as 
 is contained in this chapter, is a great in- 
 cumbrance in the right onward progress of 
 a tale ; but we have done with it, and shall 
 now haste to the end of our narrative in a 
 direct uninterrupted line.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 25S 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The sudden departure of Katharine from 
 home, after the extraordinary adventure 
 of the curate Clerk in the Old Room, at the 
 crowing of the cock, was a great relief to 
 him, as it freed him from the embarrass- 
 ment of her company, and gave him an 
 opportunity of telHng his own story to 
 the good wife without interruption, of the 
 success he had in freeing her daughter! 
 from the power and fellowship of evil spi-l 
 rits. That story was fitted admirably to 
 suit her weak and superstitious mind ; it 
 accorded with any thing nearer than the 
 truth, and perhaps this finished hypocrite V 
 never appeared so great a character in the 
 eyes of Maron Linton as he did that day.
 
 254 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 He spoke of going away to Henderland in 
 the evening, but she entreated him so ear- 
 nestly to stay and protect her from the 
 power of the spirits that haunted the place, 
 that he deemed it proper to acquiesce, for 
 without the countenance of the family of 
 Chapelhope he was nothing — he could not 
 have lived in his puny cure. She depended 
 on him, she said, to rid the town of these 
 audacious (or, as she called them, mislear- 
 ed) beings altogether, for without his in- 
 terference the family would be ruined* 
 Their servants had all left them — the work 
 remained unwrought, and every thing was 
 going to confusion — she had given Brownie 
 his accustomed wages again and again, and 
 still he refused to leave the house ; and with- 
 out the holy man's assistance iu expelling 
 him and his train, their prospects in life were 
 hopeless. 
 
 The curate promised to use his highest 
 interest with Heaven, and assured her that 
 no further evil should come nigh unto her, 
 at least while he remained under her roof;
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 9,55 
 
 •* for were it not," said he, " for the con- 
 junction which they are in with one of the 
 family, they should have been expelled long 
 ere now. That unnatural bond, I hope, by 
 a course of secret conferences, to be able 
 to break asunder, but be not thou afraid, 
 for no evil shall come nigh thy dwelling/* 
 He talked with the goodwife in the style 
 that pleased her; flattered her high and 
 pure notions of religion, as well as her 
 piety and benevolence ; said evening pray- 
 ers in the family with zeal and devotion ; 
 but how was he startled when informed that 
 he was to sleep again in the Old Room ! He 
 indeed knew not that it was haunted more 
 than any other part of the house, or that 
 it was the favourite nightly resort of the 
 Brownie of Bodsbeck, but the apparition 
 that he had seen, and the unaccountable 
 rescue that he had witnessed the night be- 
 fore, preyed on his mind, and he hinted to 
 the goodwife, that he had expected to be 
 preferred to her daughter's room and bed 
 that night, as she was absent j but Maron, 
 
 ft
 
 256 THE BKOWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 too, was selfish; for who is without that 
 great ruling motive ? She expected that 
 Brownie would appear; that Mass John 
 would speak to it; and thenceforward to 
 be freed from its unwelcome intrusions. 
 To the Old Room he was shown at a late 
 hour, where the lamp, the Bible, and the 
 sand-glass were placed on the little table, 
 at the bed's head, as usual. 
 
 It was past eleven when the curate went 
 to sleep. Old Nanny, who was dressed 
 more neatly than usual, sat still at the kit- 
 chen fire, expecting every minute the two 
 covenant-men, whom her young mistress 
 had promised to send to her privily, as her 
 companions and protectors through the 
 dark and silent watches of the night until 
 her return. Still nothing of them appear- 
 ed ; but, confident that they would appear, 
 she stirred the embers of the fire, and con- 
 tinued to keep watch with patient anxiety. 
 "When it drew towards midnight, as she 
 judged, she heard a noise without, as of 
 
 some people entering, or trying to enter, 
 6
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 257 
 
 by the outer door of the Old Room. Con- 
 eluding that it was her expected compa- 
 nions, and alarmed at the wrong direction 
 they had taken, she ran out, and round 
 the west end of the house, to warn them 
 of ^heir mistake, and bring them in by the 
 kitchen door. As she proceeded, she heard 
 two or three loud and half-stifled howls 
 from the interior of the Old Room. The 
 door was shut, but, perceiving by the seam 
 in the window-shutters that the light with- 
 in was still burning, she ran to the window, 
 which directly faced the curate's bed ; and 
 there being a small aperture broken in one 
 of the panes, she edged back the shutter, 
 so as to see and hear the most part of what 
 was going on within. She saw four or five 
 figures standing at the bed, resembling hu- 
 man figures in some small degree — their j 
 backs towards her ; but she saw a half- face 
 of one that held the lamp in its hand, and 
 it was of the hue of a smoked wall. In the 
 midst of them stood the deformed little 
 Brownie, that has often been mentioned
 
 258 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 and described in the foregoing part of this 
 tale. In his right hand he brandished a 
 weapon, resembling a dirk or carving-knife. 
 The other hand he stretched out, half raised 
 over the curate's face, as if to command at- 
 tention. " Peace !" said he, ** thou child 
 of the bottomless pit, and minister of un- 
 righteousness ; another such sound from 
 these polluted lips of thine, and I plunge 
 this weapon into thy heart. We would 
 shed thy blood without any reluctance — 
 nay, know thou that we would rejoice to 
 do it, as thereby we would render our mas- 
 ter acceptable service. Not for that intent 
 or purpose are we now come ; yet thy abo- 
 minations shall not altogether pass unpu- 
 nished. Thou knowest thy own heart- 
 its hypocrisy, and licentiousness — Thou 
 knowest, that last night, at this same 
 hour, thou didst attempt, by brutal force, 
 to pollute the purest and most angelic of 
 the human race — we rescued her from thy 
 hellish clutch, for we are her servants, and 
 attend upon her steps. Thou knowest, that
 
 THE BBOWNIE OF BODSBECK. 259 
 
 still thou art cherishing the hope of suc- 
 ceeding in thy cursed scheme. Thou art a 
 stain to thy profession, and a blot upon the 
 cheek of nature, enough to make thy race 
 and thy nation stink in tlie nose of their 
 Creator ! — To what thou deservest, thy 
 doom is a lenient one — but it is fixed and 
 irrevocable !" 
 
 There was something in that mis-shapen 
 creature's voice that chilled Nanny's v^ry 
 soul while it spoke these words, especially 
 its pronunciation of some of them ; it 
 sounded like something she had heard be- 
 fore, perhaps in a dream, but it was horri- 
 ble, and not to be brooked. The rest now 
 laid violent hold of Mass John, and she 
 heard him mumbling in a supplicating 
 voice, but knew not what he said. As 
 they stooped forward, the lamp shone on 
 the floor, and she saw the appearance of a 
 coffin standing behind them. Nanny was 
 astonished, but not yet overcome ; for, 
 cruel were the scenes that she had beheld, 
 and many the trials she had undergone ! —
 
 260 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 but at that instant the defoi med and grizly 
 being turned round, as if looking for some- 
 thing that it wanted — the lamp shone full 
 on its face, the lineaments of which when 
 Nanny beheld, her eyes at once were dark- 
 ened, and she saw no more that night. 
 How she spent the remainder of it, or by 
 what means she got to her bed in the kit- 
 chen, she never knew ; but next morning 
 when the goodwife and her sons arose, poor 
 old Nanny was lying in the kitchen bed^'de- 
 lirious, and talking of dreadful and incom- 
 prehensible things. All that could be ga- 
 thered from her frenzy was, that some ter- 
 rible catastrophe had happened in the Old 
 Room, and that Clerk, the curate, was im- 
 plicated in it. The goodwife, judging that 
 her favourite had been at war with the 
 spirits, and that Heaven had been of course 
 triumphant, hasted to the Old Room to 
 bless and pay the honour due to such a di- 
 vine character ; she called his name as she 
 entered, but no one made answer ; she 
 feasted to the bed, but behold there was
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 26l 
 
 110 one there ! The goodvvife's sole spiritual 
 guide had vanished away. 
 
 The curate Clerk was never more seen 
 nor heard of in these bounds ; but it may 
 not be improper here to relate a circum- 
 stance that happened some time thereafter, 
 as it comes no more within the range of 
 this story. 
 
 In the month of October, and the memo- 
 rable year 1688, it is well known that Cla- 
 vers hasted southward, with all the troops 
 under his command, to assist King Jiunes 
 against the Prince of Orange and the pro- 
 testant party of England, or to sell himself 
 to the latter, any of the ways that he found 
 most convenient. In the course of this 
 march, as he was resting his troops at a 
 place called Ninemile-brae, near the Bor- 
 der, a poor emaciated and forlorn-looking 
 wretch came to him, and desired to speak a 
 word with him. Mr Adam Copland and 
 he were sitting together when this happen- 
 ed ; Clavers asked his name and his busi- 
 ness, for none of the two recognised him—
 
 462 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 It was Clerk, the curate (that had been) of 
 Chapelhope and Kirkhope ! Clavers said, 
 as there were none present save a friend, 
 he might say out his business. This he de- 
 clined, and took Clavers a short way aside. 
 Copland watched their motions, but could 
 not hear what Clerk said. When he began 
 to tell his story Clavers burst into a violent 
 fit of laughter, but soon restrained himself, 
 and Copland beheld him knitting his brows, 
 and biting his lip, as he seldom failed to do 
 when angry. When they parted, he heard 
 him saying distinctly, " It is impossible 
 that I can avenge your wrongs at this time, 
 for I have matters of great import before 
 me 'y but the day may come ere long when 
 it will be in my power, and d — n me if I 
 do not do it !" 
 
 The spirits of the wild having been vic- 
 torious, and the reverend curate, the good- 
 wife's only stay, overcome and carried off 
 bodily, she was impatient, and on the rack 
 every minute that she staid longer about 
 the house. She caused one of her sons
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 263 
 
 take a horse, and conduct her to Gilmans- 
 cleuch that night, to her brother Thomas's 
 farm, determmed no more to see Chapel- 
 hope till her husband's return ; and if that 
 should never take place, to bid it adieu for 
 ever. 
 
 Nanny went to the led farm of Riskin- 
 hope, that being the nearest house to Cha- 
 pelhope, and just over against it, in order 
 to take what care she was able of the things 
 about the house during the day. There 
 also the two boys remained, and herded 
 throughout the day in a very indifferent 
 manner; and, in short, every thing about 
 the farm was going fast to confusion when 
 Katharine returned from her mission to the 
 Laird of Drummelzier. Thus it was that 
 she found her father's house deserted, it» 
 doors locked up, and its hearth cold. 
 
 Her anxiety to converse privately with 
 Nanny was great ; but at her first visit, when 
 she went for the key, this was impossible 
 without being overheard. She soon, how- 
 ever, found an opportunity ; for that night
 
 264 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 she enticed her into the byre at Chapel- 
 hope, in the gloaming, after the kine had 
 left the lone, where a conversation took 
 place between them in effect as follows : 
 
 " Alas, Nanny ! how has all this happen- 
 ed ? Did not the two Covenanters, for whom 
 I sent, come to bear you company ?" 
 
 ** Dear bairn, if they did come I saw nae 
 them. If they came, they were ower late, 
 for the spirits were there afore them ; an' I 
 hae seen sic a sight ! Dear, dear bairn, din- 
 na gar me gang owre it again — I hae seen 
 a sight that's enough to turn the heart 
 o' flesh to an iceshogle, an' to freeze up 
 the very springs o' life ! — Dinna gar me 
 gang ower it again, an' rake up the ashes o' 
 the honoured dead — But what need I say 
 sae ? The dead are up already ! Lord in 
 Heaven be my shield and safeguard !" 
 
 *« Nanny, you affright me ; but, be as- 
 sured, your terrors have originated in some 
 mistake — your sight has deceived you, and 
 all shall yet be explained to your satisfac- 
 tion.*'
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 265 
 
 « Say nae sae, dear bairn ; my sight has- 
 na deceived me, yet 1 have been deceived. 
 The world has deceived me — hell has de- 
 ceived me — and heaven has winked at the 
 deed. Alak, an' wae's me, that it should 
 sae hae been predestined afore the world 
 began ! The day was, an' no sae lang sin' 
 syne, when I could hae prayed wi* confi- 
 dence, an' sung wi' joy ; but now my mind 
 is overturned, and I hae nouther stay on 
 earth, nor hope in heaven ! The veil of the 
 Temple may be rent below, and the ark of 
 the testimony thrown open above, but their 
 forms will not be seen within the one, nor 
 their names found written in the other ! 
 We have been counted as sheep for the 
 slaughter j we have been killed all the day 
 long ; yet hath the Lord forgotten to be 
 gracious, and is his mercy clean gone for 
 ever I" 
 
 " Peace, peace, for Heaven's sake ! — 
 You are verging on blasphemy, and know 
 not what you say." 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 266 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 *• Do the reprobate know what they say, 
 or can they forbear ? How then can I ? I, 
 who am in the bond of iniquity, and the 
 jaws of death eternal ? — Where can I fly ? 
 When the righteous are not saved, where 
 shall the ungodly and the sinner appear ? — 
 Ay, dear bairn, weel may ye stare and raise 
 up your hands that gate ; but when ye hear 
 tny tale, ye winna wonder that my poor 
 wits are uprooted. Suppose sic a case your 
 ain— suppose you had been the bosom com- 
 panion o' ane for twenty years — had joined 
 wi' him in devotion, e'ening and morning, 
 for a' that time, and had never heard a sigh 
 but for sin, nor a complaint but of the ini- 
 quities of the land — If ye had witnessed 
 him follow two comely sons, your own flesh 
 and blood, to the scaflbld, and bless his 
 God who put it in their hearts to stand and 
 suffer for his cause, and for the crown of 
 martyrdom he had bestowed on them, and 
 bury the mangled bodies of other two with 
 tears, but not with repining — If, after a' 
 this, he had been hunted as a partridge on 
 
 9
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 267 
 
 the mountains, and for the same dear cause, 
 the simphcity of the truth as it is in Jesus, 
 had laid down his Hfe — If you knew that 
 his grey head was hung upon the city wall 
 for a spectacle to gaze at, and his trunk bu- 
 ried in the wild by strangers — Say you 
 knew all this, and had all these dear ties in 
 your remembrance, and yet, after long 
 years of hope soon to join their blest socie- 
 ty above, to see again that loved and reve- 
 red form stand before your eyes on earth 
 at midnight, shrivelled, pale, and deformed, 
 and mixed with malevolent spirits on dire 
 and revengeful intent, where wad your hope 
 — where wad your confidence — or where 
 wad your wits hae been flown ?" Here she 
 cried bitterly j and seizing the astonished 
 Katharine's hand with both hers, and press- 
 ing it to her brow, she continued her im- 
 passioned and frantic strain. — " Pity me, O 
 dear bairn, pity me ! For man hasna pitied 
 me, an' God hasna pitied me ! I'm gaun 
 down a floody water, down, down ; an' I
 
 268 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 wad fain grip at something, if it were but a 
 svvoomin strae, as a last hope, or I sink a* 
 thegither." 
 
 '* These are the words of delirium," said 
 Katharine, *' and I will not set them down 
 as spoke by you. Pray the Almighty that 
 they may never be written in his book of 
 remembrance against you ; for the veriest 
 downfallen fiend can do no more than dis- 
 trust the mercy of God in a Redeemer. I 
 tell you, woman, that whatever you may 
 fancy you have seen or heard in the dark- 
 ness of night, when imagination forms fan- 
 tasies of its own, of all those who have stood 
 for our civil and religious liberties, who, 
 for the sake of a good conscience, have 
 yielded up all, and sealed their testimony 
 with their blood, not one hair of their heads 
 shall fall to the ground, for their names are 
 ^written in the book of life, and they shall 
 phine as stars in the kingdom of their Fa- 
 ther. You have yourself suffered much, and 
 have rejoiced in your sufferings — So far you
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 269 
 
 did well — Do not then mar so fair an eter- 
 nal harvest — so blest a prospect of a happy 
 and everlasting community, by the sin of 
 despair, that can never be forgiven. Can 
 you, for a moment, while in possession of 
 your right senses, doubt of the tender mer- 
 cies of your Maker and Preserver ? Can 
 you for a moment believe that he has hid 
 his face from the tears and the blood that 
 have been shed for his cause in Scotland ? 
 As well may you doubt that the earth bears 
 or the sun warms you, or that he never 
 made a revelation of his will to man." 
 
 All the while that Katharine spoke thus, 
 Nanny's eyes were fixed on her, as if drink- 
 ing every word she uttered into a soul that 
 thirsted for it. A wild and unstable light 
 beamed on her countenance, but it was still 
 only like a sun-beam breaking through the 
 storm, which is ready to be swallowed up 
 by the rolling darkness within. Her head 
 shook as with a slight paralytic affection, 
 and she again clasped the hand which she 
 had never quitted.
 
 270 THE BUOWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 ** Are ye an angel o' light," said she, in a 
 soft tremulous voice, ** that ye gar my 
 heart prinkle sae wi' a joy that it never 
 thought again to taste ? It isna then a strae 
 nor a stibble that I hae grippit at for my 
 last hope, but the tap of a good tow-widdy 
 saugh 5 an' a young sapling though it be, 
 it is steevely rootit in a good soil, an' will 
 maybe help the poor drowning wretch to 
 the shore ! — An' hae I thought sae muckle 
 ill o' you ? Could I deem that mild heaven- 
 ly face, that's but the reflection o' the soul 
 within, the image o' sin and o' Satan, an' a 
 veil o' deceit thrawn ower a mind prone to 
 wickedness ? Forgie me, dear, dear saint, 
 forgie me ! It surely canna be condemned 
 spirits that ye are connectit wi ? Ah, ye're 
 dumb there ! — ye darna answer me to tliat ! 
 Na, na ! the spirits o' the just made perfect 
 wad never leave their abodes o' felicity to 
 gabble amang derksome fiends at the dead 
 hour o' the night, in sic a world o' sin and 
 sorrow as this. But I saw himt an' heard 
 him speak, as sure as I see your face an'
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 271 
 
 hear the tones o' my ain voice ; an', if I 
 lookit nae wrang, there were mae risen frae 
 the dead than ane. It is an awfu' dispensa- 
 tion to think o' ! But there was a spirit o' 
 retaliation in him that often made me quake, 
 though never sae as now. O wad ye but 
 tell me what kind o' spirits ye are in con- 
 junction wi'?" 
 
 " None but the blest and the happy — 
 None but they who have come out of great 
 tribulation, and washed their robes white in 
 the blood of the Lamb— None that would 
 harbour such a thought, or utter such a 
 doubt, as you have done to-night, for the 
 empire of the universe — More I may not 
 tell you at present ; but stay you here with 
 me, and I will cherish you, and introduce 
 you to these spirits, and you shall be hap- 
 pier with them than ever you have been." 
 
 ** Will I sae ? — Say nae mair ! — 1 wad pit 
 hand to my ain life the night, an' risk the 
 warst or I again met wi' them face to face 
 in the same guise as I saw them at mid- 
 night last week. Ye're a wonderiu' crea
 
 2721 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 ture ! Butye*re ayont my depth ; therefore 
 I'll love ye, an' fear ye, an' keep my dis- 
 tance." 
 
 Thus they parted : Katharine into her 
 long vacant house, and Nanny over to Risk- 
 inhope. The farmer of Riskinhope (Da- 
 vid Bryden of Eldin-hope), was ruined by 
 the sequestration of his stock by Clavers, 
 but the shepherds and other servants still 
 lingered about the house for better or for 
 worse. There was not a sheep on that 
 large farm, save about ^ve scores of good 
 ewes, that Davie Tait, the herd of Whit- 
 hope, had turned slyly over into the hags 
 of the Yokeburn-head, that day the drivers 
 took away the stock. When Clavers made 
 his last raid up by Chapelhope, all the fa- 
 mily of Riskinhope fled to the hills, and 
 betook them to cover, every one by him- 
 self; and there, with beating hearts, peep- 
 ed through the heath and the rash-bush, to 
 watch the motions of that bloody persecu- 
 tor. Perilous was their case that day, for 
 had any of them been found in that situa-
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 273 
 
 tion, it would have been enough ; but Da- 
 vie well knew it was good for him to keep 
 out of the way, for Mr Renwick, and Mr 
 Shields, as well as other wanderers, had 
 been sheltered in his house many a night, 
 and the latter wrote his Hind let Loose 
 in a small house at the side of Winterhope- 
 burn. Yet Davie was not a Cameronian, 
 properly speaking, nor a very religious 
 man neither; but the religious enthusi- 
 asm of his guests had broke him a little in- 
 to their manner, and way of thinking. He 
 had learned to make family exercise, not 
 however to very great purpose, for the 
 only thing very remarkable in it was the 
 strong nasal Cameronian whine of his pray- 
 er, and its pastoral allusions ; but he was 
 grown fond of exhibiting in that hne, ha- 
 ving learned the Martyr's tune, and the se- 
 cond part of the Dundee, which formed 
 the whole range of his psalmody ! Yet Da- \ 
 vie liked a joke as well as ever he did, and 
 perhaps as well as any part of divine wor. 
 
 M 2
 
 274 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 ship. When one remarked to him that his 
 family music was loud enough, but very 
 discordant, — ** Ay," quoth Davie, " but it's 
 a lang gate atween here an' Heaven ; a* 
 music's good i' the distance ; I hae strong 
 faith in that. I hae some hope i' Dan's bass 
 too ; it has great effect I was wantin him 
 to tak some salts an' sinny leaf to help it a 
 wee." 
 
 That night after Nanny came over, Da- 
 vie had prayed as usual, and among other 
 things, had not forgot the Brownie of Bods- 
 beck, that ** he might be skelpit wi' the 
 taws o* divine wrath, an' sent back to hell 
 wi' the sperks on his hips ; and that the an* 
 gel of presence might keep watch over their 
 couches that night, to scare the howlaty 
 face o' him away, an' learn him to keep his 
 ain side o' the water." 
 
 After prayers the family were crowded 
 round the fading ingle, and cracking of 
 the Brownie and of Davie's prayer. Davie 
 had opened his waistcoat, and thrown off
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 27S 
 
 his hose to warm his feet, and, flattered 
 with their remarks on his abilities, began 
 to be somewhat scurrilous on Brownie. " I 
 think I hae cowed him the night," said he ; 
 " he'll fash nane o' us — he may stay wi' his 
 Keatie Laidlaw yonder, an' rin at her bid- 
 din. He has a sonsy weel-faur'd lass to 
 bide wi' — he's better afF than some o' his 
 neighbours, Maysey;" and, saying so, he 
 cast a look to his wife that spoke unutter- 
 able things ; but finding that his joke did 
 not take, after so serious a prayer, he turn- 
 ed again on Brownie, and, as his own wife 
 said, " didna leave him the likeness of a 
 dog." He said he had eaten sax bowes o' 
 good meal to the good man, an' a' that he 
 had done for't, that ony body kend o*, was 
 mending up an auld fail- dike round the 
 corn ae night. In short, he said he was an 
 unprofitable guest — a dirty droich, an' a 
 menseless glutton -an* it was weak an' silly 
 in ony true Christian to be eiry for him." 
 He had not said out the last words, when
 
 276 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 they heard a whispering at the door, and 
 shortly after these words distinctly uttered : 
 
 ** There's neither blood nor rown-tree pin, 
 At open doors the dogs go in." 
 
 The size of every eye's orbit was doubled 
 in a moment, as it turned towards the door. 
 The light of the fire was shining bright 
 along the short entry between the beds, 
 and they saw the appearance of a man, 
 clothed in black, come slowly and delibe- 
 rately in, walk across the entry, and go into 
 the apartment in the other end of the house. 
 The family were all above one another in 
 beyond the fire in an instant, and struggling 
 who to be undermost, and next the wall, 
 Nanny, who was sitting on the form be- 
 yond the fire, pondering on other matters, 
 leaning her brow on both hands, and all 
 unconscious of what had entered, was over- 
 borne in the crush, and laid flat undermost 
 of all. 
 
 *' Dear, dear bairns, what's asteer ? Hout
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 277 
 
 fy ! Why, troth, ye'U crush the poor auld 
 body as braid as a blood-kercake." 
 
 '* Ah ! the Brownie ! — the Brownie ! — 
 the Brownie o' BodsDeck !" was whispered 
 in horror from every tongue. 
 
 Davie Tait luckily recollecting that there 
 was a door at hand, that led to a little milk- 
 house in the other end of the house, and 
 still another division farther from Brownie, 
 led the way to it on all four, at full gallop, 
 and took shelter in the farthest corner of 
 that. All the rest were soon above him, 
 but Davie bore the oppressive weight with 
 great fortitude for some time, and without 
 a murmur. Nanny was left last; she kept 
 hold of the Bible that she had in her lap 
 when she fell, and had likewise the precau- 
 tion to light the lamp before she followed 
 her affrighted associates. Nothing could 
 be more appalling than her own entry after 
 them — never was a figure more calculated 
 to inspire terror, than Nanny coming carry- 
 ing a feeble glimmering lamp, that only 
 served to make darkness visible, while her
 
 278 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 pale raised-like features were bent over it, 
 eager to discover her rueful compeers. 
 The lamp was half covered with her hand 
 to keep it from being blown out ; and her 
 face, where only a line of light here and 
 there was visible, was altogether horrible. 
 Having discovered the situation, and the 
 plight of the family, she bolted the door 
 behind her, and advanced slowly up to 
 them. *« Dear bairns, what did ye see that 
 has putten ye a' this gate ?" 
 
 " Lord sauf us !" cried Davie, from be- 
 low, " we hae forespoke the Brownie — tak 
 that elbow out o' my guts a wee bit. They 
 say, if ye speak o' the deil, he'll appear. 'Tis 
 an unsonsy and dangerous thing to — Wha's 
 aught that knee ? slack it a little. God 
 guide us, sirs, there's the weight of a mill- 
 stane on aboon the links o' my neck. If 
 the Lord hae forsaken us, an' winna heed 
 our j)rayers, we may gie up a' for tmt the- 
 gither 1 — Nanny, hae ye boltit the door." 
 
 •* Ay hae L firm an fast." 
 
 ** Than muve up a wee, sirs, or faith I'm
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 279 
 
 gane — Hech-howe ! the weight o' sin an* 
 mortality that's amang ye." 
 
 Davie's courage, that had begun to mount 
 on hearing that the door was bolted, soon 
 gave way again, when he raised his head, 
 and saw the utter dismay that was painted 
 on each countenance. " Hout, Maysey 
 woman, dinna just mak sic faces — ye are 
 eneuch to fright fock, foreby aught else," 
 said he to his wife. 
 
 " O Davie, think what a wheen poor 
 helpless creatures we are ! — Does Brownie 
 ever kill ony body ?" 
 
 " I wish it be nae a waur thing than 
 Brownie," said Dan. 
 
 ** Waur than Brownie ? Mercy on us ! — 
 Waur than Brownie ! — What was it like ?" 
 was whispered round. 
 
 " Ye mind poor Kirko, the bit Dinscore 
 
 laird, that skulkit hereabouts sae lang, an' 
 
 sleepit several nights ben in that end ?— • 
 
 Didna ye a' think it was unco like him ?" 
 
 " The very man ! — the very man ! — his
 
 280 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 make, his gang, his claes, an' every thing," 
 was echoed by all. 
 
 " An' ye ken," continued Dan, " that he 
 was shot on Dumfries sands this simmer. 
 It is his ghaist come to haunt the place 
 whar he baid, an' prayed sae aften," 
 
 " Ower true ! Ower true ! it's awsome to 
 think o'," was the general remark. 
 
 ♦* Let us go to prayers," said Nanny : 
 " it isna a time to creep into nooks on 
 aboon other, an' gie way to despair. There 
 is but Ane that can guard or protect us, let 
 us apply there." 
 
 <* Something has been done that way al- 
 ready," said Davie Tait ; ** we canna come 
 to handygrips wi' him, an' force him to 
 stand senter at our door a* night." 
 
 Davie's matter was exhausted on the 
 subject, and he did not much relish going 
 over the same words again, which, he ac- 
 knowledged, were rather henspeckle ; nor 
 yet to venture on composing new ones out 
 of his own head : this made him disposed 
 to waive Nanny's proposal.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK* 281 
 
 " Ay," answered she, '* but we mauna 
 baud just wi' saying gie us this, an' gie us 
 that; and than, because we dinna just get 
 it afF loof, drap the plea an' despair. Na, 
 na, dear bairns, that's nae part o' the chris- 
 tian warfare 1 we maun plead wi' humility, 
 and plead again, an' never was thei'e mair 
 cause for rousing to exertion than now. 
 The times are momentous, and some great 
 change is drawing near, for the dead are 
 astir--p-l have seen them mysel'. Yes, the 
 severed members that were scattered, and 
 buried apart, are come thegither again — 
 joined, an' gaun aboon the grund, moutht 
 ing the air o' Heaven. I saw it mysel — 
 Can it be that the resurrection is begun ? 
 It is a far away thought for the thing itsel 
 to be as near ; but it's a glorious ane, an' 
 there's proof o't. But then the place an' 
 the time are doubtfu' — had it been sun 
 proof I wad hae likit it better. We Httle 
 wot what to say or think under sic visita- 
 tions. Let us apply to the only source of
 
 282 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 light and direction. David, be you a 
 mouth to us." 
 
 " A mouth ?" said Davie ; but recollect- 
 ing himself, added — " Hum, I understand 
 you ; but I hae mouthed mair already than 
 has come to ony good. I like fbck to pray 
 that hae some chance to be heard ; some 
 fock may scraugh themsels hersh, and be 
 nae the better." 
 
 " Oh fie, David ! speak wi' some reve- 
 rence," said his wife Maysey. 
 
 " I minrtit at naething else," said he, 
 " but I hae an unreverent kind o' tongue 
 that nought ever serous-like fa's frae, let 
 my frame o' mind be as it will ; an' troth 
 I haena command o' language for a job 
 like this. I trow the prelates hae the best 
 way after a*, for they get prayers ready 
 made to their hands, an' disna need to af- 
 front their Maker wi' blunders." 
 
 ** How can ye speak sae the night, Da- 
 vid ? or how can sic a thought hover round 
 your heart as to flee out at random that
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 283 
 
 gate ? If ye will read prayers, there's a 
 book, read them out o' that ; if the words 
 o* God winna suit the cases o' his ain crea- 
 tures, how can ye trow the words o' ano- 
 ther man can do it ? But pray wi' the 
 heart, an' pray in humility, and fearna be- 
 ing accepted." 
 
 *' That's true ; but yet ane maks but a 
 poor figure wi' the heart by itsel." 
 
 " Wow, Davie, man," quoth Maysey, his 
 wife, ^* an' ye mak but a poor figure in- 
 deed, when we're a' in sic a plight ! Ye 
 hear the woman speaks gude truth ; an' ye 
 ken yoursel ye fenced us against the Brownie 
 afore, but no against Kirky's ghaist ; tak 
 the beuk hke a man, an' pit the fence o' 
 scripture faith round us for that too." 
 
 Stupid as Maysey was, she knew the way 
 to her husband's heart. Davie could not 
 resist such an appeal — he took the Bible ; 
 sung the 143d psalm, from beginning to 
 end, at Nanny's request ; and likewise, by 
 her direction, read the 20th of Revelations ; 
 then kneeling down on his bare knees, legs,
 
 284 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 
 
 and feet, as he fled from the kitchen, on 
 the damp miry floor of the milk-house, he 
 essayed a strong energetic prayer as a fence 
 against the invading ghost. ' But as Davie ac- 
 knowledged, he had an irreverend expres- 
 sion naturally, that no effort could overcome, 
 (and by the bye, there is more in this than 
 mankind are in general aware of,) and the 
 more he aimed at sublimity, the more ludi- 
 crous he grew, even to common ears. There 
 is scarcely a boy in the country who can- 
 not recite scraps of Davie Tail's prayer ; 
 but were I to set all that is preserved of 
 it down here, it might be construed as a 
 mockery of that holy ordinance, than 
 which nothing is so far from my heart or 
 intention ; but, convmced as I am that 
 a rude exhibition in such a divine solemni- 
 ty is of all things the most indecent and 
 unbecoming, I think such should be held 
 up to ridicule, as a warning to all Christians 
 never to ask ignorance or absurdity to per- 
 form this sacred duty in public. The su- 
 blime part of it therefore is given, which was
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 285 
 
 meant as a fence against the spirit that had 
 set up his rest so near. To such as are not 
 acquainted with the pastoral terms, the 
 meaning in some parts may be equivocal ; 
 to those who are, the train of thinking will 
 be obvious* — It is part of a genuine prayer. 
 
 ** But the last time we gathered oursels 
 before thee, we left out a wing o' the hirsel 
 by mistake, an' thou hast paid us hame i' 
 our ain coin. Thou wart sae gude than as 
 come to the sheddin thysel, an' clap our 
 heads, an' whisper i' our lugs, ' dinna be 
 disheartened, my puir bits o' waefu' things, 
 for though ye be the shotts o' my hale fauld, 
 I'll take care o' ye, an' herd ye, an' gie ye 
 a' that ye hae askit o' me the night.' It was 
 kind, an' thou hast done it j but we forgot 
 a principal part, an' maun tell thee now, 
 that we have had another visitor sin' ye 
 war here, an' ane wha's back we wad ra- 
 ther se e than his face. Thou kens better
 
 ^86 THE BROWNIE OF BOI>SBECK. 
 
 thysel than we can tell thee what place he 
 has made his escape frae ; but we sair dread 
 it is frae the boddomless pit, or he wadna 
 hae ta'en possession but leave. Ye ken, 
 that gang tried to keep vilent leasehaud o' 
 your ain fields, an' your ain ha', till ye gae 
 them a killicoup. If he be ane o' them, O 
 come thysel to our help, an' bring in thy 
 hand a bolt o' divine vengeance, het i' the 
 furnace o' thy wrath as reed as a nailstring, 
 an' bizz him an' scouder him till ye dinna 
 leave him the likeness of a paper izel, until 
 he be glad to creep into the worm-holes o' 
 the earth, never to see sun or sterns mair. 
 But, if it be some puir dumfoundered soul 
 that has been bumbased and stoundit at 
 the view o' the lang Hopes an' the Down- 
 fa's o' Eternity, corned daundering away 
 frae about the laiggen girds o' Heaven to 
 the waefu' gang that he left behind, like a 
 lost sheep that strays frae the rich pastures 
 o' the south, an' comes bleating back a' the 
 gate to its cauld native hills, to the very 
 gair where it was lambed and first followed
 
 THB BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 287 
 
 its minny, ane canna help haeing a fel- 
 low-feeling wi' the piiir soul after a', but 
 yet he'll find himsel here like a cow in an 
 unco loan. Therefore, O furnish him this 
 night wi' the wings o' the wild gainner or 
 the eagle, that he may swoof away back to 
 a better hame than this, for we want nana 
 o' his company. An' do thou give to the 
 puir stray thing a weel-hained hefF and a 
 beildy lair, that he may nae mair come 
 straggling amang a stock that's sae unlike 
 himsel, that they're frightit at the very look 
 o' him. 
 
 " Thou hast promised in thy Word to be 
 our shepherd, our guider an' director ; an' 
 thy word's as gude as some men's aith, an' 
 we'll hand thee at it. Therefore take thy 
 plaid about thee, thy staff in thy hand, an' 
 thy dog at thy fit, an' gather us a' in frae 
 the cauld windy knowes o' self-conceit— 
 the plashy bogs an' mires o' sensuality, an' 
 the damp flows o' worldly-mindedness, an' 
 wyse us a' into the true bught o' life, made 
 o' the flakes o' forgiveness and the door o*
 
 288 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 loving-kindness ; an' never do thou suffer 
 us to be heftit e'ening or morning, but gie 
 lashin' meals o' the milk o' praise, the ream 
 o' thankfu'ness, an' the butter o' good- works. 
 An' do thou, in thy good time an' way, 
 smear us ower the l^le bouk wi' the tar o' 
 adversity, weel mixed up wi' the meinging 
 of repentance, that we may be kiver'd ower 
 wi' gude bouzy shake-rough fleeces o' faith, 
 a' run out on the hips, an' as brown as a 
 tod. An' do thou, moreover, fauld us ower- 
 night, an' every night, in within the true 
 sheep-fauld o' thy covenant, weel buggen 
 wi' the stanes o' salvation, an' caped wi' the 
 divots o' grace. An' then wi' sic a shep- 
 herd, an' sic a sheep-fauld, what hae wi' to 
 be feared for ? Na, na ! we'll fear naething 
 but sin ! — We'll never mair scare at the 
 poolly- woolly o' the whaup, nor swirl at 
 the gelloch o' the ern j for if the arm of 
 our Shepherd be about us for good, a' the 
 imps, an' a' the powers o' darkness, canna 
 wrang a hair o' our tails."
 
 -THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, 289 
 
 All the family arose from their knees? 
 with altered looks. Thus fenced, a new 
 energy glowed in every breast. Poor May- 
 sey, proud of her husband's bold and su- 
 blime intercession, and trusting in the di- 
 vine fence now raised around them, rose 
 with the tear in her eye, seized the lamp, 
 and led the way, followed by all the rest, 
 to retake the apartment of Kirky's ghost 
 by open assault. Nanny, whose faith wont 
 to be superior to all these things, lagged 
 behind, dreading to see the sight that she 
 had seen on the Saturday night before ; 
 and the bold intercessor himself kept her 
 company, on pretence of a sleeping leg ; 
 but, in truth, his faith in his own interces- 
 sion and fence did not mount very high. 
 All the apartment was searched — every 
 chest, corner, and hole that could be 
 thought of — every thing was quiet, and 
 not so much as a mouse stirring ! — not a 
 bed-cover folded down, nor the smallest 
 remembered article missing ! All the fami- 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 290 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 ly saw Kii k}''s ghost enter in his own like- 
 ness, and heard him speak in his wonted 
 tongue, except old Nanny. It was a great 
 and wonderful victory gained. They were 
 again in full possession of their own house, 
 a right which they never seemed before to 
 have duly appreciated. They felt grateful 
 and happy ; and it was hinted by Maysey, 
 Dan, and uncle Nicholas, that Davie Tait 
 would turn out a burning and a shining 
 light in these dark and dismal times, and 
 would supersede Messrs Renwick, Shields, 
 and all the curates in the country. He had 
 laid a visible ghost, that might be the devil 
 for aught they knew to the contrary ; and 
 it was argued on all hands, that " Davie 
 was nae sma' drink." 
 
 The whole of the simple group felt hap- 
 py and grateful; and they agreed to sit 
 another hour or two before they went to 
 sleep, and each one read a chapter from 
 the Bible, and recite a psalm or hymn. 
 They did so, until it came to Nanny's turn.
 
 A Cameroniaii's Midiiig^ht Hymn, 
 
 \t) Ot the Snii"bv day no^ ihe Mc 
 
 p^ 
 
 [ooabv niffM, 
 
 ^ 1. ' " ^ 
 
 . «/ Where the dazzlinfr fields never needed liffht, 
 
 Where the da zzlin^r fields ne ver needed liffht. 
 
 f 
 
 16 Snnbv d^ nor the MoonTy night. 
 
 ^ 
 
 * 'i ^ ' 
 
 To face page 231.
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 291 
 
 She laid her hands across each other on her 
 breast, turned in the balls of her half-closed 
 eyes so that nothing was seen but the white, 
 and, with her face raised upwards, and a 
 slow rocking motion, she sung the follow- 
 ing hymn, to a strain the most solemn that 
 ever was heard. A scrap of this ancient 
 melody is still preserved, and here subjoin- 
 ed, for without its eftect the words are no- 
 thing. 
 
 O thou, who dwelVst in the heavens high. 
 Above yon stars, and within yon sky. 
 Where the dazzling fields never needed light 
 Of the sun by day, nor the moon by n^'ght ! 
 
 Though shining millions around thee standi 
 For the sake of one that's at thy right hand, 
 O think of them that have cost him dear. 
 Still chained in doubt and in darkness here ] 
 
 Our night is di*eary, and dim our day ; 
 And if thou turn'st thy face away. 
 We are sinful, feeble, and helpless dust. 
 And have none to look to, and none to trust.
 
 292 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. 
 
 The powers of darkness are all abroad. 
 They owti no Saviour, and fear no God ; 
 And we are trembling in dumb dismay, 
 O turn not thus thy face away ! 
 
 Our morning dawn is with clouds o'erspread. 
 And our evening fall is a bloody red ; 
 And the groans are heard on the mountain swarth ; 
 There is blood in heaven, and blood on earth. 
 
 A life of scorn for us thou did'st lead. 
 And in the grave laid thy blessed head ; 
 Then think of those who undauntedly 
 Have laid down life and all for thee. 
 
 Thou wilt not turn them forth in wrath. 
 To walk this world of sin and death, 
 In shadowy dim deformity ? 
 O God it may not — cannot be ! 
 
 Thy aid, O mighty One, we crave ! 
 Not shortened is thy arm to save. 
 Afar from thee we now sojourn 
 Return to uSj, O God, return ! 
 
 This air, having a great resemblance to 
 the tone and manner in which the old Ca- 
 meronians said, or rather sung their prayers,
 
 THE BROWNIE OF BODSBE(?K. 295 
 
 and just no more music in it, as the singer 
 will perceive, than what renders the recita- 
 tion more slow and solemn, Nanny's hymn 
 affected the family group in no ordinary 
 degree ; it made the hairs of their head 
 creep, and thrilled their simple hearts, easi- 
 ly impressed by divine things, while their 
 looks strongly expressed their feelings. 
 None of them would read or recite any 
 thing farther, but entreated Nanny to say 
 it over again, affirming, with one voice^ 
 that " it was an extrodnar thing." 
 
 " Ah ! dear, dear bairns 1 I dinna ken 
 about it,'* said she ; " he was a good can- 
 nie lad that made it, but he mixed wi' the 
 scoffers, and turned to hae his doubts and 
 his failings like mony ane, (Lord forgie us a' 
 for our share in them ;) he seems even to 
 have doubted o' the Omnipresence when he 
 penned that, which was far far wrang. I'll 
 rather say ye ane on that subject that he 
 had made when in a better way o' thinking. 
 It is said that the Englishes sing it in their 
 chapels."
 
 29^ THE BROWNIE, OF BODSBECK, 
 
 She then attempted one in a bolder and 
 more regular strain, but wanting the sim^ 
 plicity of the former, it failed in having the 
 same effect. As it, however, closed the 
 transactions of that momentous night at 
 Riskinhope, we shall with it close this long 
 chapter. 
 
 Dweller in heaven^ and ruler below ! 
 Fain would I know thee^ yet tremble to know ! 
 How can a mortal deem, how may it be. 
 That being can not be, but present with thee ? 
 Is it true that thou saw'st me ere I saw the morn ? 
 Is it true that thou knew'st me before I was born ? 
 That nature must live in the light of thine eye ? 
 This linowledge for me is too great and too high ! 
 
 That fly I to noon-day, or fly I to night. 
 To shroud me in darkness, or bathe me in light. 
 The light and the darkness to thee are the same. 
 And still in thy presence of wonder I am ? 
 Should I Avith the dove to the desert repair ; 
 Or dwell with the eagle in clough of the air ; 
 In the desart afar, on the mountain's wild brink. 
 From the eye of Omnipotence still must I slirink ? 
 
 Or mount I on wings of the morning away 
 To caves of the ocean unseen by the day.
 
 THG BaOWNIE OF BODSBECK, 295 
 
 And hide in these uttermost parts of the sea, 
 Even there to be living and moving in thee ? 
 Nay, scale 1 the cloud in the heavens to dwell ; 
 Or make I my bed in the shadows of hell ; 
 Can science expound, or humanity frame. 
 That still thou art present, and all are the same i*^ 
 
 Yes, present for ever ! Almighty — alone 
 Great Spirit of nature, unbounded, unknown ! 
 What mind can embody thy presence divine ? 
 I know not my own being ! how can I thine ? 
 Then humbly and low in the dust let me bend, 
 And adore what on earth I can ne'er comprehend ; 
 The mountains may melt, and the elements flee. 
 Yet an universe still be rejoicing in thee ! 
 
 END OF VOLUME FIRST. 
 
 Edinburgh : 
 Printed by James Ballantyne & Co.