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excerpt
A Blind Woman in Her Room - Anne Ancher, 1883
Old Mortality is a novel by Walter Scott set in the period 1679–89 in south west Scotland. It forms, along with The Black Dwarf, the 1st series of Scott's
'Tales of My Landlord'. The two novels were published together in 1816. Old Mortality is considered one of Scott's best novels.
The novel centres on the actual events of a Covenanter uprising in 1679.
In this excerpt Henry Morton arrives at Bessie Maclure's inn.
Bessie Mclure, a blind woman, tells her own story and updates Henry on Burley's recent history and his current retreat at the Black Linn of Linklater.
Burley is a Covenanter.
An ill-spelt and worse-written inscription intimated to the traveller that he
might
here find refreshment for man and horse, -- no unacceptable intimation,
rude as the hut appeared to be, considering the wild path he had trod in
approaching it, and the high and waste mountains which rose in desolate
dignity behind this humble asylum.
It must indeed have been, thought Morton, in some such spot as this that
Burley was likely to find a congenial confident.
As he approached, he observed the good dame of the house herself, seated
by the door; she had hitherto been concealed from him by a huge
alder-bush.
"Good evening, Mother," said the traveller. "Your name is Mistress
Maclure?"
"Elizabeth Maclure, sir, a poor widow," was the reply.
"Can you lodge a stranger for a night?"
"I can, sir, if he will be pleased with the widow's cake and the widow's
cruse."
"I have been a soldier, good dame," answered Morton, "and nothing can
come amiss to me in the way of entertainment."
"A sodger, sir?" said the old woman, with a sigh, -- "God send ye a better
trade!"
"It is believed to be an honourable profession, my good dame; I hope you
do not think the worse of me for having belonged to it?"
"I judge no one, sir," replied the woman, "and your voice sounds like
that of a civil gentleman; but I hae witnessed sae muckle ill wi'
sodgering in this puir land that I am e'en content that I can see nae
mair o't wi' these sightless organs."
As she spoke thus, Morton observed that she was blind.
"Shall I not be troublesome to you, my good dame?" said he,
compassionately; "your infirmity seems ill calculated for your
profession."
"Na, sir," answered the old woman, "I can gang about the house readily
eneugh; and I hae a bit lassie to help me, and the dragoon lads will look
after your horse when they come hame frae their patrol, for a sma'
matter; they are civiller now than lang syne."
Upon these assurances, Morton alighted.
"Peggy, my bonny bird," continued the hostess, addressing a little girl
of twelve years old, who had by this time appeared, "tak the gentleman's
horse to the stable, and slack his girths, and tak aff the bridle, and
shake down a lock o' hay before him, till the dragoons come back. -- Come
this way, sir," she continued; "ye'll find my house clean, though it's a
puir ane."
⁂
When he entered the cottage, Morton perceived that the old hostess had
spoken truth. The inside of the hut belied its outward appearance, and
was neat, and even comfortable, especially the inner apartment, in which
the hostess informed her guest that he was to sup and sleep. Refreshments
were placed before him such as the little inn afforded; and though he had
small occasion for them, he accepted the offer, as the means of
maintaining some discourse with the landlady. Notwithstanding her
blindness, she was assiduous in her attendance, and seemed, by a sort of
instinct, to find her way to what she wanted.
"Have you no one but this pretty little girl to assist you in waiting on
your guests?" was the natural question.
"None, sir," replied his old hostess; "I dwell alone, like the widow of
Zarephath. Few guests come to this puir place, and I haena custom eneugh
to hire servants. I had anes twa fine sons that lookit after a' thing. -- But God gives and takes away, -- His name be praised!" she continued,
turning her clouded eyes towards Heaven. -- "I was anes better off, that
is, waridly speaking, even since I lost them; but that was before this
last change."
"Indeed!" said Morton; "and yet you are a Presbyterian, my good mother?"
"I am, sir; praised be the light that showed me the right way," replied
the landlady.
"Then I should have thought," continued the guest, the Revolution would
have brought you nothing but good."
"If," said the old woman, "it has brought the land gude, and freedom of
worship to tender consciences, it's little matter what it has brought to
a puir blind worm like me."
"Still," replied Morton, "I cannot see how it could possibly injure you."
"It's a lang story, sir," answered his hostess, with a sigh. "But ae
night, sax weeks or thereby afore Bothwell Brigg, a young gentleman
stopped at this puir cottage, stiff and bloody with wounds, pale and dune
out wi' riding, and his horse sae weary he couldna drag ae foot after the
other, and his foes were close ahint him, and he was ane o' our enemies. What could I do, sir? You that's a sodger will think me but a silly auld
wife; but I fed him, and relieved him, and keepit him hidden till the
pursuit was ower."
"And who," said Morton, "dares disapprove of your having done so?"
"I kenna," answered the blind woman; "I gat ill-will about it amang some
o' our ain folk. They said I should hae been to him what Jael was to
Sisera. But weel I wot I had nae divine command to shed blood, and to
save it was baith like a woman and a Christian. And then they said I
wanted natural affection, to relieve ane that belanged to the band that
murdered my twa sons."
"That murdered your two sons?"
"Ay, sir; though maybe ye'll gie their deaths another name. The tane fell
wi' sword in hand, fighting for a broken national Covenant; the tother, --
oh, they took him and shot him dead on the green before his mother's
face! My auld een dazzled when the shots were looten off, and, to my
thought, they waxed weaker and weaker ever since that weary day; and
sorrow, and heart-break, and tears that would not be dried, might help on
the disorder. But, alas! betraying Lord Evandale's young blood to his
enemies' sword wad ne'er hae brought my Ninian and Johnie alive again."
"Lord Evandale?" said Morton, in surprise. "Was it Lord Evandale whose
life you saved?"
"In troth, even his," she replied. "And kind he was to me after, and gae
me a cow and calf, malt, meal, and siller, and nane durst steer me when
he was in power. But we live on an outside bit of Tillietudlem land, and
the estate was sair plea'd between Leddy Margaret Bellenden and the
present laird, Basil Olifant, and Lord Evandale backed the auld leddy for
love o' her daughter Miss Edith, as the country said, ane o' the best and
bonniest lassies in Scotland. But they behuved to gie way, and Basil gat
the Castle and land, and on the back o' that came the Revolution, and wha
to turn coat faster than the laird? for he said he had been a true Whig
a' the time, and turned papist only for fashion's sake. And then he got
favour, and Lord Evandale's head was under water; for he was ower proud
and manfu' to bend to every blast o' wind, though mony a ane may ken as
weel as me that be his ain principles as they might, he was nae ill
friend to our folk when he could protect us, and far kinder than Basil
Olifant, that aye keepit the cobble head doun the stream. But he was set
by and ill looked on, and his word ne'er asked; and then Basil, wha's a
revengefu' man, set himsell to vex him in a' shapes, and especially by
oppressing and despoiling the auld blind widow, Bessie Maclure, that
saved Lord Evandale's life, and that he was sae kind to. But he's mistaen
if that's his end; for it will be lang or Lord Evandale hears a word frae
me about the selling my kye for rent or e'er it was due, or the putting
the dragoons on me when the country's quiet, or onything else that will
vex him, -- I can bear my ain burden patiently, and warld's loss is the
least part o't."
Astonished and interested at this picture of patient, grateful, and
high-minded resignation, Morton could not help bestowing an execration
upon the poor-spirited rascal who had taken such a dastardly course of
vengeance.
"Dinna curse him, sir," said the old woman; "I have heard a good man say
that a curse was like a stone flung up to the heavens, and maist like to
return on the head that sent it. But if ye ken Lord Evandale, bid him
look to himsell, for I hear strange words pass atween the sodgers that
are lying here, and his name is often mentioned; and the tane o' them has
been twice up at Tillietudlem. He's a kind of favourite wi' the laird,
though he was in former times ane o' the maist cruel oppressors ever rade
through a country (out-taken Sergeant Bothwell), -- they ca' him Inglis."
"I have the deepest interest in Lord Evandale's safety," said Morton,
"and you may depend on my finding some mode to apprise him of these
suspicious circumstances. And, in return, my good friend, will you
indulge me with another question? Do you know anything of Quintin Mackell
of Irongray?"
"Do I know whom?" echoed the blind woman, in a tone of great surprise and
alarm.
"Quintin Mackell of Irongray," repeated Morton. "Is there anything so
alarming in the sound of that name?"
"Na, na," answered the woman, with hesitation; "but to hear him asked
after by a stranger and a sodger, -- Gude protect us, what mischief is
to come next!"
"None by my means, I assure you," said Morton; "the subject of my inquiry
has nothing to fear from me if, as I suppose, this Quintin Mackell is the
same with John Bal---."
"Do not mention his name," said the widow, pressing his lips with her
fingers. "I see you have his secret and his pass-word, and I'll be free
wi' you. But, for God's sake, speak lound and low. In the name of Heaven,
I trust ye seek him not to his hurt! Ye said ye were a sodger?"
"I said truly; but one he has nothing to fear from. I commanded a party
at Bothwell Bridge."
"Indeed?" said the woman. "And verily there is something in your voice I
can trust. Ye speak prompt and readily, and like an honest man."
"I trust I am so," said Morton.
"But nae displeasure to you, sir, in thae waefu' times," continued Mrs.
Maclure, "the hand of brother is against brother, and he fears as mickle
almaist frae this Government as e'er he did frae the auld persecutors."
"Indeed?" said Morton, in a tone of inquiry; I was not aware of that. But
I am only just now returned from abroad."
"I'll tell ye," said the blind woman, first assuming an attitude of
listening that showed how effectually her powers of collecting
intelligence had been transferred from the eye to the ear; for, instead
of casting a glance of circumspection around, she stooped her face, and
turned her head slowly around, in such a manner as to insure that there
was not the slightest sound stirring in the neighbourhood, and then
continued, -- "I'll tell ye. Ye ken how he has laboured to raise up again
the Covenant, burned, broken, and buried in the hard hearts and selfish
devices of this stubborn people. Now, when he went to Holland, far from
the countenance and thanks of the great, and the comfortable fellowship
of the godly, both whilk he was in right to expect, the Prince of Orange
wad show him no favour, and the ministers no godly communion. This was
hard to bide for ane that had suffered and done mickle, -- ower mickle, it
may be; but why suld I be a judge? He came back to me and to the auld
place o' refuge that had often received him in his distresses, mair
especially before the great day of victory at Drumclog, for I sail ne'er
forget how he was bending hither of a' nights in the year on that e'ening
after the play when young Milnwood wan the popinjay; but I warned him off
for that time."
"What!" exclaimed Morton, "it was you that sat in your red cloak by the
high-road, and told him there was a lion in the path?"
"In the name of Heaven! wha are ye?" said the old woman, breaking off her
narrative in astonishment. "But be wha ye may," she continued, resuming
it with tranquillity, "ye can ken naething waur o' me than that I hae
been willing to save the life o' friend and foe."
"I know no ill of you, Mrs. Maclure, and I mean no ill by you; I only
wished to show you that I know so much of this person's affairs that I
might be safely intrusted with the rest. Proceed, if you please, in your
narrative."
"There is a strange command in your voice," said the blind woman, "though
its tones are sweet. I have little mair to say. The Stewarts hae been
dethroned, and William and Mary reign in their stead; but nae mair word
of the Covenant than if it were a dead letter. They hae taen the indulged
clergy, and an Erastian General Assembly of the ante pure and triumphant
Kirk of Scotland, even into their very arms and bosoms. Our faithfu'
champions o' the testimony agree e'en waur wi' this than wi' the open
tyranny and apostasy of the persecuting times, for souls are hardened and
deadened, and the mouths of fasting multitudes are crammed wi' fizenless
bran instead of the sweet word in season; and mony an hungry, starving
creature, when he sits down on a Sunday forenoon to get something that
might warm him to the great work, has a dry clatter o' morality driven
about his lugs, and -- "
"In short," said Morton, desirous to stop a discussion which the good old
woman, as enthusiastically attached to her religious profession as to the
duties of humanity, might probably have indulged longer, -- "In short, you
are not disposed to acquiesce in this new government, and Burley is of
the same opinion?"
"Many of our brethren, sir, are of belief we fought for the Covenant, and
fasted and prayed and suffered for that grand national league, and now we
are like neither to see nor hear tell of that which we suffered and
fought and fasted and prayed for. And anes it was thought something might
be made by bringing back the auld family on a new bargain and a new
bottom, as, after a', when King James went awa, I understand the great
quarrel of the English against him was in behalf of seven unhallowed
prelates; and sae, though ae part of our people were free to join wi' the
present model, and levied an armed regiment under the Yerl of Angus, yet
our honest friend, and others that stude up for purity of doctrine and
freedom of conscience, were determined to hear the breath o' the
Jacobites before they took part again them, fearing to fa' to the ground
like a wall built with unslaked mortar, or from sitting between twa
stools."
"They chose an odd quarter," said Morton, "from which to expect freedom
of conscience and purity of doctrine."
"Oh, dear sir!" said the landlady, "the natural day-spring rises in the
east, but the spiritual dayspring may rise in the north, for what we
blinded mortals ken."
"And Burley went to the north to seek it?" replied the guest.
"Truly ay, sir; and he saw Claver'se himsell, that they ca' Dundee now."
"What!" exclaimed Morton, in amazement; "I would have sworn that meeting
would have been the last of one of their lives."
"Na, na, sir; in troubled times, as I understand," said Mrs. Maclure,
"there's sudden changes, -- Montgomery and Ferguson and mony ane mair that
were King James's greatest faes are on his side now. Claver'se spake our
friend fair, and sent him to consult with Lord Evandale. But then there
was a break-off, for Lord Evandale wadna look at, hear, or speak wi' him;
and now he's anes wud and aye waur, and roars for revenge again Lord
Evandale, and will hear nought of onything but burn and slay. And oh,
thae starts o' passion! they unsettle his mind, and gie the Enemy sair
advantages."
"The enemy?" said Morton; "What enemy?"
"What enemy? Are ye acquainted familiarly wi' John Balfour o' Burley, and
dinna ken that he has had sair and frequent combats to sustain against
the Evil One? Did ye ever see him alone but the Bible was in his hand,
and the drawn sword on his knee? Did ye never sleep in the same room wi'
him, and hear him strive in his dreams with the delusions of Satan? Oh,
ye ken little o' him if ye have seen him only in fair daylight; for nae
man can put the face upon his doleful visits and strifes that he can do.
I hae seen him, after sic a strife of agony, tremble that an infant might
hae held him, while the hair on his brow was drapping as fast as ever my
puir thatched roof did in a heavy rain." As she spoke, Morton began to
recollect the appearance of Burley during his sleep in the hay-loft at
Milnwood, the report of Cuddie that his senses had become impaired, and
some whispers current among the Cameronians, who boasted frequently of
Burley's soul-exercises and his strifes with the foul fiend, -- which
several circumstances led him to conclude that this man himself was a
victim to those delusions, though his mind, naturally acute and forcible,
not only disguised his superstition from those in whose opinion it might
have discredited his judgment, but by exerting such a force as is said to
be proper to those afflicted with epilepsy, could postpone the fits which
it occasioned until he was either freed from superintendence, or
surrounded by such as held him more highly on account of these
visitations. It was natural to suppose, and could easily be inferred from
the narrative of Mrs. Maclure, that disappointed ambition, wrecked hopes,
and the downfall of the party which he had served with such desperate
fidelity, were likely to aggravate enthusiasm into temporary insanity. It
was, indeed, no uncommon circumstance in those singular times that men
like Sir Harry Vane, Harrison, Overton, and others, themselves slaves to
the wildest and most enthusiastic dreams, could, when mingling with the
world, conduct themselves not only with good sense in difficulties, and
courage in dangers, but with the most acute sagacity and determined
valour. The subsequent part of Mrs. Maclure's information confirmed
Morton in these impressions.
"In the grey of the morning," she said, "my little Peggy sail show ye the
gate to him before the sodgers are up. But ye maun let his hour of
danger, as he ca's it, be ower, afore ye venture on him in his place of
refuge. Peggy will tell ye when to venture in. She kens his ways weel,
for whiles she carries him some little helps that he canna do
without to sustain life."
"And in what retreat, then," said Morton, "has this unfortunate person
found refuge?"
"An awsome place," answered the blind woman, "as ever living creature
took refuge in; they ca it the Black Linn of Linklater. It's a doleful
place, but he loves it abune a' others, because he has sae often been in
safe hiding there; and it's my belief he prefers it to a tapestried
chamber and a down bed. But ye'll see 't. I hae seen it mysell mony a day
syne. I was a daft hempie lassie then, and little thought what was to
come o't. -- Wad ye choose ony thing, sir, ere ye betake yoursell to your
rest, for ye maun stir wi' the first dawn o' the grey light?"
"Nothing more, my good mother," said Morton; and they parted for the
evening.
Morton recommended himself to Heaven, threw himself on the bed, heard,
between sleeping and waking, the trampling of the dragoon horses at the
riders' return from their patrol, and then slept soundly after such
painful agitation.
FIM
Old Mortality é um romance de Walter Scott ambientado no período de 1679 a 1689 no sudoeste da Escócia. Forma, junto com The Black Dwarf, a 1.ª série de
Scott's Tales of My Landlord. Os dois romances foram publicados juntos em 1816. Old Mortality é considerado um dos melhores romances de Scott.
Wikipedia
Old Mortality
Sir Walter Scott
1816
excerpt pp 655 - 669
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