The Antiquary - Volume II

Chapter 13

Still in his dead hand clenched remain the strings

That thrill his father's heart--e'en as the limb,

Lopped off and laid in grave, retains, they tell us,

Strange commerce with the mutilated stump,

Whose nerves are twinging still in maimed existence.

Old Play.

The Antiquary, as we informed the reader in the end of the thirty-first

CHAPTER, [tenth] had shaken off the company of worthy Mr. Blattergowl,

although he offered to entertain him with an abstract of the ablest

speech he had ever known in the teind court, delivered by the procurator

for the church in the remarkable case of the parish of Gatherem.

Resisting this temptation, our senior preferred a solitary path, which

again conducted him to the cottage of Mucklebackit. When he came in front

of the fisherman's hut, he observed a man working intently, as if to

repair a shattered boat which lay upon the beach, and going up to him was

surprised to find it was Mucklebackit himself. "I am glad," he said in a

tone of sympathy--"I am glad, Saunders, that you feel yourself able to

make this exertion."

"And what would ye have me to do," answered the fisher gruffly, "unless I

wanted to see four children starve, because ane is drowned? It's weel wi'

you gentles, that can sit in the house wi' handkerchers at your een when

ye lose a friend; but the like o' us maun to our wark again, if our

hearts were beating as hard as my hammer."

Without taking more notice of Oldbuck, he proceeded in his labour; and

the Antiquary, to whom the display of human nature under the influence of

agitating passions was never indifferent, stood beside him, in silent

attention, as if watching the progress of the work. He observed more than

once the man's hard features, as if by the force of association, prepare

to accompany the sound of the saw and hammer with his usual symphony of a

rude tune, hummed or whistled,--and as often a slight twitch of

convulsive expression showed, that ere the sound was uttered, a cause for

suppressing it rushed upon his mind. At length, when he had patched a

considerable rent, and was beginning to mend another, his feelings

appeared altogether to derange the power of attention necessary for his

work. The piece of wood which he was about to nail on was at first too

long; then he sawed it off too short, then chose another equally ill

adapted for the purpose. At length, throwing it down in anger, after

wiping his dim eye with his quivering hand, he exclaimed, "There is a

curse either on me or on this auld black b***h of a boat, that I have

hauled up high and dry, and patched and clouted sae mony years, that she

might drown my poor Steenie at the end of them, an' be d--d to her!" and

he flung his hammer against the boat, as if she had been the intentional

cause of his misfortune. Then recollecting himself, he added, "Yet what

needs ane be angry at her, that has neither soul nor sense?--though I am

no that muckle better mysell. She's but a rickle o' auld rotten deals

nailed thegither, and warped wi' the wind and the sea--and I am a dour

carle, battered by foul weather at sea and land till I am maist as

senseless as hersell. She maun be mended though again the morning tide--

that's a thing o' necessity."

Thus speaking, he went to gather together his instruments, and attempt to

resume his labour,--but Oldbuck took him kindly by the arm. "Come, come,"

he said, "Saunders, there is no work for you this day--I'll send down

Shavings the carpenter to mend the boat, and he may put the day's work

into my account--and you had better not come out to-morrow, but stay to

comfort your family under this dispensation, and the gardener will bring

you some vegetables and meal from Monkbarns."

"I thank ye, Monkbarns," answered the poor fisher; "I am a plain-spoken

man, and hae little to say for mysell; I might hae learned fairer

fashions frae my mither lang syne, but I never saw muckle gude they did

her; however, I thank ye. Ye were aye kind and neighbourly, whatever folk

says o' your being near and close; and I hae often said, in thae times

when they were ganging to raise up the puir folk against the gentles--I

hae often said, neer a man should steer a hair touching to Monkbarns

while Steenie and I could wag a finger--and so said Steenie too. And,

Monkbarns, when ye laid his head in the grave (and mony thanks for the

respect), ye, saw the mouls laid on an honest lad that likit you weel,

though he made little phrase about it."

Oldbuck, beaten from the pride of his affected cynicism, would not

willingly have had any one by on that occasion to quote to him his

favourite maxims of the Stoic philosophy. The large drops fell fast from

his own eyes, as he begged the father, who was now melted at recollecting

the bravery and generous sentiments of his son, to forbear useless

sorrow, and led him by the arm towards his own home, where another scene

awaited our Antiquary.

As he entered, the first person whom he beheld was Lord Glenallan. Mutual

surprise was in their countenances as they saluted each other--with

haughty reserve on the part of Mr. Oldbuck, and embarrassment on that of

the Earl.

"My Lord Glenallan, I think?" said Mr. Oldbuck.

"Yes--much changed from what he was when he knew Mr. Oldbuck."

"I do not mean," said the Antiquary, "to intrude upon your lordship--I

only came to see this distressed family."

"And you have found one, sir, who has still greater claims on your

compassion."

"My compassion? Lord Glenallan cannot need my compassion. If Lord

Glenallan could need it, I think he would hardly ask it."

"Our former acquaintance," said the Earl--

"Is of such ancient date, my lord--was of such short duration, and was

connected with circumstances so exquisitely painful, that I think we may

dispense with renewing it."

So saying, the Antiquary turned away, and left the hut; but Lord

Glenallan followed him into the open air, and, in spite of a hasty "Good

morning, my lord," requested a few minutes' conversation, and the favour

of his advice in an important matter.

"Your lordship will find many more capable to advise you, my lord, and by

whom your intercourse will be deemed an honour. For me, I am a man

retired from business and the world, and not very fond of raking up the

past events of my useless life;--and forgive me if I say, I have

particular pain in reverting to that period of it when I acted like a

fool, and your lordship like"--He stopped short.

"Like a villain, you would say," said Lord Glenallan--"for such I must

have appeared to you."

"My lord--my lord, I have no desire to hear your shrift," said the

Antiquary.

"But, sir, if I can show you that I am more sinned against than sinning--

that I have been a man miserable beyond the power of description, and who

looks forward at this moment to an untimely grave as to a haven of rest,

you will not refuse the confidence which, accepting your appearance at

this critical moment as a hint from Heaven, I venture thus to press on

you."

"Assuredly, my lord, I shall shun no longer the continuation of this

extraordinary interview."

"I must then recall to you our occasional meetings upwards of twenty

years since at Knockwinnock Castle,--and I need not remind you of a lady

who was then a member of that family."

"The unfortunate Miss Eveline Neville, my lord; I remember it well."

"Towards whom you entertained sentiments"--

"Very different from those with which I before and since have regarded

her s*x. Her gentleness, her docility, her pleasure in the studies which

I pointed out to her, attached my affections more than became my age

though that was not then much advanced--or the solidity of my character.

But I need not remind your lordship of the various modes in which you

indulged your gaiety at the expense of an awkward and retired student,

embarrassed by the expression of feelings so new to him, and I have no

doubt that the young lady joined you in the well-deserved ridicule--it is

the way of womankind. I have spoken at once to the painful circumstances

of my addresses and their rejection, that your lordship may be satisfied

everything is full in my memory, and may, so far as I am concerned, tell

your story without scruple or needless delicacy."

"I will," said Lord Glenallan. "But first let me say, you do injustice to

the memory of the gentlest and kindest, as well as to the most unhappy of

women, to suppose she could make a jest of the honest affection of a man

like you. Frequently did she blame me, Mr. Oldbuck, for indulging my

levity at your expense--may I now presume you will excuse the gay

freedoms which then offended you?--my state of mind has never since laid

me under the necessity of apologizing for the inadvertencies of a light

and happy temper."

"My lord, you are fully pardoned," said Mr. Oldbuck. "You should be

aware, that, like all others, I was ignorant at the time that I placed

myself in competition with your lordship, and understood that Miss

Neville was in a state of dependence which might make her prefer a

competent independence and the hand of an honest man--But I am wasting

time--I would I could believe that the views entertained towards her by

others were as fair and honest as mine!"

"Mr. Oldbuck, you judge harshly."

"Not without cause, my lord. When I only, of all the magistrates of this

county--having neither, like some of them, the honour to be connected

with your powerful family--nor, like others, the meanness to fear it,--

when I made some inquiry into the manner of Miss Neville's death--I shake

you, my lord, but I must be plain--I do own I had every reason to believe

that she had met most unfair dealing, and had either been imposed upon by

a counterfeit marriage, or that very strong measures had been adopted to

stifle and destroy the evidence of a real union. And I cannot doubt in my

own mind, that this cruelty on your lordship's part, whether coming of

your own free will, or proceeding from the influence of the late

Countess, hurried the unfortunate young lady to the desperate act by

which her life was terminated."

"You are deceived, Mr. Oldbuck, into conclusions which are not just,

however naturally they flow from the circumstances. Believe me, I

respected you even when I was most embarrassed by your active attempts to

investigate our family misfortunes. You showed yourself more worthy of

Miss Neville than I, by the spirit with which you persisted in

vindicating her reputation even after her death. But the firm belief that

your well-meant efforts could only serve to bring to light a story too

horrible to be detailed, induced me to join my unhappy mother in schemes

to remove or destroy all evidence of the legal union which had taken

place between Eveline and myself. And now let us sit down on this bank,--

for I feel unable to remain longer standing,--and have the goodness to

listen to the extraordinary discovery which I have this day made."

They sate down accordingly; and Lord Glenallan briefly narrated his

unhappy family history--his concealed marriage--the horrible invention by

which his mother had designed to render impossible that union which had

already taken place. He detailed the arts by which the Countess, having

all the documents relative to Miss Neville's birth in her hands, had

produced those only relating to a period during which, for family

reasons, his father had consented to own that young lady as his natural

daughter, and showed how impossible it was that he could either suspect

or detect the fraud put upon him by his mother, and vouched by the oaths

of her attendants, Teresa and Elspeth. "I left my paternal mansion," he

concluded, "as if the furies of hell had driven me forth, and travelled

with frantic velocity I knew not whither. Nor have I the slightest

recollection of what I did or whither I went, until I was discovered by

my brother. I will not trouble you with an account of my sick-bed and

recovery, or how, long afterwards, I ventured to inquire after the sharer

of my misfortunes, and heard that her despair had found a dreadful remedy

for all the ills of life. The first thing that roused me to thought was

hearing of your inquiries into this cruel business; and you will hardly

wonder, that, believing what I did believe, I should join in those

expedients to stop your investigation, which my brother and mother had

actively commenced. The information which I gave them concerning the

circumstances and witnesses of our private marriage enabled them to

baffle your zeal. The clergyman, therefore, and witnesses, as persons who

had acted in the matter only to please the powerful heir of Glenallan,

were accessible to his promises and threats, and were so provided for,

that they had no objections to leave this country for another. For

myself, Mr. Oldbuck," pursued this unhappy man, "from that moment I

considered myself as blotted out of the book of the living, and as having

nothing left to do with this world. My mother tried to reconcile me to

life by every art--even by intimations which I can now interpret as

calculated to produce a doubt of the horrible tale she herself had

fabricated. But I construed all she said as the fictions of maternal

affection. I will forbear all reproach. She is no more--and, as her

wretched associate said, she knew not how the dart was poisoned, or how

deep it must sink, when she threw it from her hand. But, Mr. Oldbuck, if

ever, during these twenty years, there crawled upon earth a living being

deserving of your pity, I have been that man. My food has not nourished

me--my sleep has not refreshed me--my devotions have not comforted me--

all that is cheering and necessary to man has been to me converted into

poison. The rare and limited intercourse which I have held with others

has been most odious to me. I felt as if I were bringing the

contamination of unnatural and inexpressible guilt among the gay and the

innocent. There have been moments when I had thoughts of another

description--to plunge into the adventures of war, or to brave the

dangers of the traveller in foreign and barbarous climates--to mingle in

political intrigue, or to retire to the stern seclusion of the anchorites

of our religion;--all these are thoughts which have alternately passed

through my mind, but each required an energy, which was mine no longer,

after the withering stroke I had received. I vegetated on as I could in

the same spot--fancy, feeling, judgment, and health, gradually decaying,

like a tree whose bark has been destroyed,--when first the blossoms fade,

then the boughs, until its state resembles the decayed and dying trunk

that is now before you. Do you now pity and forgive me?"

"My lord," answered the Antiquary, much affected, "my pity--my

forgiveness, you have not to ask, for your dismal story is of itself not

only an ample excuse for whatever appeared mysterious in your conduct,

but a narrative that might move your worst enemies (and I, my lord, was

never of the number) to tears and to sympathy. But permit me to ask what

you now mean to do, and why you have honoured me, whose opinion can be of

little consequence, with your confidence on this occasion?"

"Mr. Oldbuck," answered the Earl, "as I could never have foreseen the

nature of that confession which I have heard this day, I need not say

that I had no formed plan of consulting you, or any one, upon affairs the

tendency of which I could not even have suspected. But I am without

friends, unused to business, and, by long retirement, unacquainted alike

with the laws of the land and the habits of the living generation; and

when, most unexpectedly, I find myself immersed in the matters of which I

know least, I catch, like a drowning man, at the first support that

offers. You are that support, Mr. Oldbuck. I have always heard you

mentioned as a man of wisdom and intelligence--I have known you myself as

a man of a resolute and independent spirit;--and there is one

circumstance," said he, "which ought to combine us in some degree--our

having paid tribute to the same excellence of character in poor Eveline.

You offered yourself to me in my need, and you were already acquainted

with the beginning of my misfortunes. To you, therefore, I have recourse

for advice, for sympathy, for support."

"You shall seek none of them in vain, my lord," said Oldbuck, "so far as

my slender ability extends;--and I am honoured by the preference, whether

it arises from choice, or is prompted by chance. But this is a matter to

be ripely considered. May I ask what are your principal views at

present?"

"To ascertain the fate of my child," said the Earl, "be the consequences

what they may, and to do justice to the honour of Eveline, which I have

only permitted to be suspected to avoid discovery of the yet more

horrible taint to which I was made to believe it liable."

"And the memory of your mother?"

"Must bear its own burden," answered the Earl with a sigh: "better that

she were justly convicted of deceit, should that be found necessary, than

that others should be unjustly accused of crimes so much more dreadful."

"Then, my lord," said Oldbuck, "our first business must be to put the

information of the old woman, Elspeth, into a regular and authenticated

form."

"That," said Lord Glenallan, "will be at present, I fear, impossible. She

is exhausted herself, and surrounded by her distressed family. To-morrow,

perhaps, when she is alone--and yet I doubt, from her imperfect sense of

right and wrong, whether she would speak out in any one's presence but my

own. I am too sorely fatigued."

"Then, my lord," said the Antiquary, whom the interest of the moment

elevated above points of expense and convenience, which had generally

more than enough of weight with him, "I would propose to your lordship,

instead of returning, fatigued as you are, so far as to Glenallan House,

or taking the more uncomfortable alternative of going to a bad inn at

Fairport, to alarm all the busybodies of the town--I would propose, I

say, that you should be my guest at Monkbarns for this night. By

to-morrow these poor people will have renewed their out-of-doors

vocation--for sorrow with them affords no respite from labour,--and we

will visit the old woman Elspeth alone, and take down her examination."

After a formal apology for the encroachment, Lord Glenallan agreed to go

with him, and underwent with patience in their return home the whole

history of John of the Girnel, a legend which Mr. Oldbuck was never known

to spare any one who crossed his threshold.

The arrival of a stranger of such note, with two saddle-horses and a

servant in black, which servant had holsters on his saddle-bow, and a

coronet upon the holsters, created a general commotion in the house of

Monkbarns. Jenny Rintherout, scarce recovered from the hysterics which

she had taken on hearing of poor Steenie's misfortune, chased about the

turkeys and poultry, cackled and screamed louder than they did, and ended

by killing one-half too many. Miss Griselda made many wise reflections on

the hot-headed wilfulness of her brother, who had occasioned such

devastation, by suddenly bringing in upon them a papist nobleman. And she

ventured to transmit to Mr. Blattergowl some hint of the unusual

slaughter which had taken place in the _basse-cour,_ which brought the

honest clergyman to inquire how his friend Monkbarns had got home, and

whether he was not the worse of being at the funeral, at a period so near

the ringing of the bell for dinner, that the Antiquary had no choice left

but to invite him to stay and bless the meat. Miss M'Intyre had on her

part some curiosity to see this mighty peer, of whom all had heard, as an

eastern caliph or sultan is heard of by his subjects, and felt some

degree of timidity at the idea of encountering a person, of whose

unsocial habits and stern manners so many stories were told, that her

fear kept at least pace with her curiosity. The aged housekeeper was no

less flustered and hurried in obeying the numerous and contradictory

commands of her mistress, concerning preserves, pastry and fruit, the

mode of marshalling and dishing the dinner, the necessity of not

permitting the melted butter to run to oil, and the danger of allowing

Juno--who, though formally banished from the parlour, failed not to

maraud about the out-settlements of the family--to enter the kitchen.

The only inmate of Monkbarns who remained entirely indifferent on this

momentous occasion was Hector M'Intyre, who cared no more for an Earl

than he did for a commoner, and who was only interested in the unexpected

visit, as it might afford some protection against his uncle's

displeasure, if he harboured any, for his not attending the funeral, and

still more against his satire upon the subject of his gallant but

unsuccessful single combat with the _phoca,_ or seal.

To these, the inmates of his household, Oldbuck presented the Earl of

Glenallan, who underwent, with meek and subdued civility, the prosing

speeches of the honest divine, and the lengthened apologies of Miss

Griselda Oldbuck, which her brother in vain endeavoured to abridge.

Before the dinner hour, Lord Glenallan requested permission to retire a

while to his chamber. Mr. Oldbuck accompanied his guest to the Green

Room, which had been hastily prepared for his reception. He looked around

with an air of painful recollection.

"I think," at length he observed, "I think, Mr. Oldbuck, that I have been

in this apartment before."

"Yes, my lord," answered Oldbuck, "upon occasion of an excursion hither

from Knockwinnock--and since we are upon a subject so melancholy, you may

perhaps remember whose taste supplied these lines from Chaucer, which now

form the motto of the tapestry."

"I guess", said the Earl, "though I cannot recollect. She excelled me,

indeed, in literary taste and information, as in everything else; and it

is one of the mysterious dispensations of Providence, Mr. Oldbuck, that a

creature so excellent in mind and body should have been cut off in so

miserable a manner, merely from her having formed a fatal attachment to

such a wretch as I am."

Mr. Oldbuck did not attempt an answer to this burst of the grief which

lay ever nearest to the heart of his guest, but, pressing Lord

Glenallan's hand with one of his own, and drawing the other across his

shaggy eyelashes, as if to brush away a mist that intercepted his sight,

he left the Earl at liberty to arrange himself previous to dinner.

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.