The Antiquary - Volume II

Chapter 16

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Yes! I love justice well--as well as you do--

But since the good dame's blind, she shall excuse me

If, time and reason fitting, I prove dumb;--

The breath I utter now shall be no means

To take away from me my breath in future.

Old Play.

By dint of charity from the town's-people in aid of the load of

provisions he had brought with him into durance, Edie Ochiltree had

passed a day or two's confinement without much impatience, regretting his

want of freedom the less, as the weather proved broken and rainy.

"The prison," he said, "wasna sae dooms bad a place as it was ca'd. Ye

had aye a good roof ower your head to fend aff the weather, and, if the

windows werena glazed, it was the mair airy and pleasant for the summer

season. And there were folk enow to crack wi', and he had bread eneugh to

eat, and what need he fash himsell about the rest o't?"

The courage of our philosophical mendicant began, however, to abate, when

the sunbeams shone fair on the rusty bars of his grated dungeon, and a

miserable linnet, whose cage some poor debtor had obtained permission to

attach to the window, began to greet them with his whistle.

"Ye're in better spirits than I am," said Edie, addressing the bird, "for

I can neither whistle nor sing for thinking o' the bonny burnsides and

green shaws that I should hae been dandering beside in weather like this.

But hae--there's some crumbs t'ye, an ye are sae merry; and troth ye hae

some reason to sing an ye kent it, for your cage comes by nae faut o'

your ain, and I may thank mysell that I am closed up in this weary

place."

Ochiltree's soliloquy was disturbed by a peace-officer, who came to

summon him to attend the magistrate. So he set forth in awful procession

between two poor creatures, neither of them so stout as he was himself,

to be conducted into the presence of inquisitorial justice. The people,

as the aged prisoner was led along by his decrepit guards, exclaimed to

each other, "Eh! see sic a grey-haired man as that is, to have committed

a highway robbery, wi' ae fit in the grave!"--And the children

congratulated the officers, objects of their alternate dread and sport,

Puggie Orrock and Jock Ormston, on having a prisoner as old as

themselves.

Thus marshalled forward, Edie was presented (by no means for the first

time) before the worshipful Bailie Littlejohn, who, contrary to what his

name expressed, was a tall portly magistrate, on whom corporation crusts

had not been conferred in vain. He was a zealous loyalist of that zealous

time, somewhat rigorous and peremptory in the execution of his duty, and

a good deal inflated with the sense of his own power and importance;--

otherwise an honest, well-meaning, and useful citizen.

"Bring him in! bring him in!" he exclaimed. "Upon my word these are awful

and unnatural times! the very bedesmen and retainers of his Majesty are

the first to break his laws. Here has been an old Blue-Gown committing

robbery--I suppose the next will reward the royal charity which supplies

him with his garb, pension, and begging license, by engaging in

high-treason, or sedition at least--But bring him in."

Edie made his obeisance, and then stood, as usual, firm and erect, with

the side of his face turned a little upward, as if to catch every word

which the magistrate might address to him. To the first general

questions, which respected only his name and calling, the mendicant

answered with readiness and accuracy; but when the magistrate, having

caused his clerk to take down these particulars, began to inquire

whereabout the mendicant was on the night when Dousterswivel met with his

misfortune, Edie demurred to the motion. "Can ye tell me now, Bailie, you

that understands the law, what gude will it do me to answer ony o' your

questions?"

"Good?--no good certainly, my friend, except that giving a true account

of yourself, if you are innocent, may entitle me to set you at liberty."

"But it seems mair reasonable to me now, that you, Bailie, or anybody

that has anything to say against me, should prove my guilt, and no to be

bidding me prove my innocence."

"I don't sit here," answered the magistrate, "to dispute points of law

with you. I ask you, if you choose to answer my question, whether you

were at Ringan Aikwood, the forester's, upon the day I have specified?"

"Really, sir, I dinna feel myself called on to remember," replied the

cautious bedesman.

"Or whether, in the course of that day or night," continued the

magistrate, "you saw Steven, or Steenie, Mucklebackit?--you knew him, I

suppose?"

"O, brawlie did I ken Steenie, puir fallow," replied the prisoner;--"but

I canna condeshend on ony particular time I have seen him lately."

"Were you at the ruins of St. Ruth any time in the course of that

evening?"

"Bailie Littlejohn," said the mendicant, "if it be your honour's

pleasure, we'll cut a lang tale short, and I'll just tell ye, I am no

minded to answer ony o' thae questions--I'm ower auld a traveller to let

my tongue bring me into trouble."

"Write down," said the magistrate, "that he declines to answer all

interrogatories, in respect that by telling the truth he might be brought

to trouble."

"Na, na," said Ochiltree, "I'll no hae that set down as ony part o' my

answer--but I just meant to say, that in a' my memory and practice, I

never saw ony gude come o' answering idle questions."

"Write down," said the Bailie, "that, being acquainted with judicial

interrogatories by long practice, and having sustained injury by

answering questions put to him on such occasions, the declarant refuses"

"Na, na, Bailie," reiterated Edie, "ye are no to come in on me that gait

neither."

"Dictate the answer yourself then, friend," said the magistrate, "and the

clerk will take it down from your own mouth."

"Ay, ay," said Edie--"that's what I ca' fair play; I'se do that without

loss o' time. Sae, neighbour, ye may just write down, that Edie

Ochiltree, the declarant, stands up for the liberty--na, I maunna say

that neither--I am nae liberty-boy--I hae fought again' them in the riots

in Dublin--besides, I have ate the King's bread mony a day. Stay, let me

see. Ay--write that Edie Ochiltree, the Blue-Gown, stands up for the

prerogative--(see that ye spell that word right--it's a lang ane)--for

the prerogative of the subjects of the land, and winna answer a single

word that sall be asked at him this day, unless he sees a reason fort.

Put down that, young man."

"Then, Edie," said the magistrate, "since you will give no information on

the subject, I must send you back to prison till you shall be delivered

in due course of law."

"Aweel, sir, if it's Heaven's will and man's will, nae doubt I maun

submit," replied the mendicant. "I hae nae great objection to the prison,

only that a body canna win out o't; and if it wad please you as weel,

Bailie, I wad gie you my word to appear afore the Lords at the Circuit,

or in ony other coart ye like, on ony day ye are pleased to appoint."

"I rather think, my good friend," answered Bailie Littlejohn, "your word

might be a slender security where your neck may be in some danger. I am

apt to think you would suffer the pledge to be forfeited. If you could

give me sufficient security, indeed"--

At this moment the Antiquary and Captain M'Intyre entered the apartment.

--"Good morning to you, gentlemen," said the magistrate; "you find me

toiling in my usual vocation--looking after the iniquities of the people

--labouring for the _respublica,_ Mr. Oldbuck--serving the King our

master, Captain M'Intyre,--for I suppose you know I have taken up the

sword?"

"It is one of the emblems of justice, doubtless," answered the

Antiquary;--"but I should have thought the scales would have suited you

better, Bailie, especially as you have them ready in the warehouse."

"Very good, Monkbarns--excellent! But I do not take the sword up as

justice, but as a soldier--indeed I should rather say the musket and

bayonet--there they stand at the elbow of my gouty chair, for I am scarce

fit for drill yet--a slight touch of our old acquaintance _podagra;_ I

can keep my feet, however, while our sergeant puts me through the manual.

I should like to know, Captain M'Intyre, if he follows the regulations

correctly--he brings us but awkwardly to the _present._" And he hobbled

towards his weapon to illustrate his doubts and display his proficiency.

"I rejoice we have such zealous defenders, Bailie," replied Mr. Oldbuck;

"and I dare say Hector will gratify you by communicating his opinion on

your progress in this new calling. Why, you rival the Hecate' of the

ancients, my good sir--a merchant on the Mart, a magistrate in the

Townhouse, a soldier on the Links--_quid non pro patria?_ But my business

is with the justice; so let commerce and war go slumber."

"Well, my good sir," said the Bailie, "and what commands have you for

me?"

"Why, here's an old acquaintance of mine, called Edie Ochiltree, whom

some of your myrmidons have mewed up in jail on account of an alleged

assault on that fellow Dousterswivel, of whose accusation I do not

believe one word."

The magistrate here assumed a very grave countenance. "You ought to have

been informed that he is accused of robbery, as well as assault--a very

serious matter indeed; it is not often such criminals come under my

cognizance."

"And," replied Oldbuck, "you are tenacious of the opportunity of making

the very most of such as occur. But is this poor old man's case really so

very bad?"

"It is rather out of rule," said the Bailie--"but as you are in the

commission, Monkbarns, I have no hesitation to show you Dousterswivel's

declaration, and the rest of the precognition." And he put the papers

into the Antiquary's hands, who assumed his spectacles, and sat down in a

corner to peruse them.

The officers, in the meantime, had directions to remove their prisoner

into another apartment; but before they could do so, M'Intyre took an

opportunity to greet old Edie, and to slip a guinea into his hand.

"Lord bless your honour!" said the old man; "it's a young soldier's gift,

and it should surely thrive wi' an auld ane. I'se no refuse it, though

it's beyond my rules; for if they steek me up here, my friends are like

eneugh to forget me--out o'sight out o'mind, is a true proverb; and it

wadna be creditable for me, that am the king's bedesman, and entitled to

beg by word of mouth, to be fishing for bawbees out at the jail window

wi' the fit o' a stocking, and a string." As he made this observation he

was conducted out of the apartment.

Mr. Dousterswivel's declaration contained an exaggerated account of the

violence he had sustained, and also of his loss.

"But what I should have liked to have asked him," said Monkbarns, "would

have been his purpose in frequenting the ruins of St. Ruth, so lonely a

place, at such an hour, and with such a companion as Edie Ochiltree.

There is no road lies that way, and I do not conceive a mere passion for

the picturesque would carry the German thither in such a night of storm

and wind. Depend upon it, he has been about some roguery, and in all

probability hath been caught in a trap of his own setting--_Nec lex

justitior ulla._"

The magistrate allowed there was something mysterious in that

circumstance, and apologized for not pressing Dousterswivel, as his

declaration was voluntarily emitted. But for the support of the main

charge, he showed the declaration of the Aikwoods concerning the state in

which Dousterswivel was found, and establishing the important fact that

the mendicant had left the barn in which he was quartered, and did not

return to it again. Two people belonging to the Fairport undertaker, who

had that night been employed in attending the funeral of Lady Glenallan,

had also given declarations, that, being sent to pursue two suspicious

persons who left the ruins of St. Ruth as the funeral approached, and

who, it was supposed, might have been pillaging some of the ornaments

prepared for the ceremony, they had lost and regained sight of them more

than once, owing to the nature of the ground, which was unfavourable for

riding, but had at length fairly lodged them both in Mucklebackit's

cottage. And one of the men added, that "he, the declarant, having

dismounted from his horse, and gone close up to the window of the hut, he

saw the old Blue-Gown and young Steenie Mucklebackit, with others, eating

and drinking in the inside, and also observed the said Steenie

Mucklebackit show a pocket-book to the others;--and declarant has no

doubt that Ochiltree and Steenie Mucklebackit were the persons whom he

and his comrade had pursued, as above mentioned." And being interrogated

why he did not enter the said cottage, declares, "he had no warrant so to

do; and that as Mucklebackit and his family were understood to be

rough-handed folk, he, the declarant, had no desire to meddle or make

with their affairs, _Causa scientiae patet._ All which he declares to be

truth," etc.

"What do you say to that body of evidence against your friend?" said the

magistrate, when he had observed the Antiquary had turned the last leaf.

"Why, were it in the case of any other person, I own I should say it

looked, _prima facie,_ a little ugly; but I cannot allow anybody to be in

the wrong for beating Dousterswivel--Had I been an hour younger, or had

but one single flash of your warlike genius, Bailie, I should have done

it myself long ago. He is _nebulo nebulonum,_ an impudent, fraudulent,

mendacious quack, that has cost me a hundred pounds by his roguery, and

my neighbour Sir Arthur, God knows how much. And besides, Bailie, I do

not hold him to be a sound friend to Government."

"Indeed?" said Bailie Littlejohn; "if I thought that, it would alter the

question considerably."

"Right--for, in beating him," observed Oldbuck, "the bedesman must have

shown his gratitude to the king by thumping his enemy; and in robbing

him, he would only have plundered an Egyptian, whose wealth it is lawful

to spoil. Now, suppose this interview in the ruins of St. Ruth had

relation to politics,--and this story of hidden treasure, and so forth,

was a bribe from the other side of the water for some great man, or the

funds destined to maintain a seditious club?"

"My dear sir," said the magistrate, catching at the idea, "you hit my

very thoughts! How fortunate should I be if I could become the humble

means of sifting such a matter to the bottom!--Don't you think we had

better call out the volunteers, and put them on duty?"

"Not just yet, while _podagra_ deprives them of an essential member of

their body. But will you let me examine Ochiltree?"

"Certainly; but you'll make nothing of him. He gave me distinctly to

understand he knew the danger of a judicial declaration on the part of an

accused person, which, to say the truth, has hanged many an honester man

than he is."

"Well, but, Bailie," continued Oldbuck, "you have no objection to let me

try him?"

"None in the world, Monkbarns. I hear the sergeant below--I'll rehearse

the manual in the meanwhile. Baby, carry my gun and bayonet down to the

room below--it makes less noise there when we ground arms." And so exit

the martial magistrate, with his maid behind him bearing his weapons.

"A good squire that wench for a gouty champion," observed Oldbuck.--

"Hector, my lad, hook on, hook on--Go with him, boy--keep him employed,

man, for half-an-hour or so--butter him with some warlike terms--praise

his dress and address."

Captain M'Intyre, who, like many of his profession, looked down with

infinite scorn on those citizen soldiers who had assumed arms without any

professional title to bear them, rose with great reluctance, observing

that he should not know what to say to Mr. Littlejohn; and that to see an

old gouty shop-keeper attempting the exercise and duties of a private

soldier, was really too ridiculous.

"It may be so, Hector," said the Antiquary, who seldom agreed with any

person in the immediate proposition which was laid down--"it may possibly

be so in this and some other instances; but at present the country

resembles the suitors in a small-debt court, where parties plead in

person, for lack of cash to retain the professed heroes of the bar. I am

sure in the one case we never regret the want of the acuteness and

eloquence of the lawyers; and so, I hope, in the other, we may manage to

make shift with our hearts and muskets, though we shall lack some of the

discipline of you martinets."

"I have no objection, I am sure, sir, that the whole world should fight

if they please, if they will but allow me to be quiet," said Hector,

rising with dogged reluctance.

"Yes, you are a very quiet personage indeed," said his uncle, "whose

ardour for quarrelling cannot pass so much as a poor _phoca_ sleeping

upon the beach!"

But Hector, who saw which way the conversation was tending, and hated all

allusions to the foil he had sustained from the fish, made his escape

before the Antiquary concluded the sentence.

In the 1600s, Balthasar Gracian, a jesuit priest wrote 300 aphorisms on living life called "The Art of Worldly Wisdom." Join our newsletter below and read them all, one at a time.