The Heart of Mid-Lothian, Volume 2 Read online

  CHAPTER ELEVENTH.

  My name is Argyle, you may well think it strange, To live at the court and never to change. Ballad.

  Few names deserve more honourable mention in the history of Scotland,during this period, than that of John, Duke of Argyle and Greenwich. Histalents as a statesman and a soldier were generally admitted; he was notwithout ambition, but "without the illness that attends it"--without thatirregularity of thought and aim, which often excites great men, in hispeculiar situation, (for it was a very peculiar one), to grasp the meansof raising themselves to power, at the risk of throwing a kingdom intoconfusion. Pope has distinguished him as

  Argyle, the state's whole thunder born to wield, And shake alike the senate and the field.

  He was alike free from the ordinary vices of statesmen, falsehood,namely, and dissimulation; and from those of warriors, inordinate andviolent thirst after self-aggrandisement.

  Scotland, his native country, stood at this time in a very precarious anddoubtful situation. She was indeed united to England, but the cement hadnot had time to acquire consistence. The irritation of ancient wrongsstill subsisted, and betwixt the fretful jealousy of the Scottish, andthe supercilious disdain of the English, quarrels repeatedly occurred, inthe course of which the national league, so important to the safety ofboth, was in the utmost danger of being dissolved. Scotland had, besides,the disadvantage of being divided into intestine factions, which hatedeach other bitterly, and waited but a signal to break forth into action.

  In such circumstances, another man, with the talents and rank of Argyle,but without a mind so happily regulated, would have sought to rise fromthe earth in the whirlwind, and direct its fury. He chose a course moresafe and more honourable. Soaring above the petty distinctions offaction, his voice was raised, whether in office or opposition, for thosemeasures which were at once just and lenient. His high military talentsenabled him, during the memorable year 1715, to render such services tothe House of Hanover, as, perhaps, were too great to be eitheracknowledged or repaid. He had employed, too, his utmost influence insoftening the consequences of that insurrection to the unfortunategentlemen whom a mistaken sense of loyalty had engaged in the affair, andwas rewarded by the esteem and affection of his country in an uncommondegree. This popularity, with a discontented and warlike people, wassupposed to be a subject of jealousy at court, where the power to becomedangerous is sometimes of itself obnoxious, though the inclination is notunited with it. Besides, the Duke of Argyle's independent and somewhathaughty mode of expressing himself in Parliament, and acting in public,were ill calculated to attract royal favour. He was, therefore, alwaysrespected, and often employed; but he was not a favourite of George theSecond, his consort, or his ministers. At several different periods inhis life, the Duke might be considered as in absolute disgrace at court,although he could hardly be said to be a declared member of opposition.This rendered him the dearer to Scotland, because it was usually in hercause that he incurred the displeasure of his sovereign; and upon thisvery occasion of the Porteous mob, the animated and eloquent oppositionwhich he had offered to the severe measures which were about to beadopted towards the city of Edinburgh, was the more gratefully receivedin that metropolis, as it was understood that the Duke's interpositionhad given personal offence to Queen Caroline.

  His conduct upon this occasion, as, indeed, that of all the Scottishmembers of the legislature, with one or two unworthy exceptions, had beenin the highest degree spirited. The popular tradition, concerning hisreply to Queen Caroline, has been given already, and some fragments ofhis speech against the Porteous Bill are still remembered. He retortedupon the Chancellor, Lord Hardwicke, the insinuation that he had statedhimself in this case rather as a party than as a judge:--"I appeal," saidArgyle, "to the House--to the nation, if I can be justly branded with theinfamy of being a jobber or a partisan. Have I been a briber of votes?--abuyer of boroughs?--the agent of corruption for any purpose, or on behalfof any party?--Consider my life; examine my actions in the field and inthe cabinet, and see where there lies a blot that can attach to myhonour. I have shown myself the friend of my country--the loyal subjectof my king. I am ready to do so again, without an instant's regard to thefrowns or smiles of a court. I have experienced both, and am preparedwith indifference for either. I have given my reasons for opposing thisbill, and have made it appear that it is repugnant to the internationaltreaty of union, to the liberty of Scotland, and, reflectively, to thatof England, to common justice, to common sense, and to the publicinterest. Shall the metropolis of Scotland, the capital of an independentnation, the residence of a long line of monarchs, by whom that noble citywas graced and dignified--shall such a city, for the fault of an obscureand unknown body of rioters, be deprived of its honours and itsprivileges--its gates and its guards?--and shall a native Scotsman tamelybehold the havoc? I glory, my Lords, in opposing such unjust rigour, andreckon it my dearest pride and honour to stand up in defence of my nativecountry while thus laid open to undeserved shame, and unjust spoliation."

  Other statesmen and orators, both Scottish and English, used the samearguments, the bill was gradually stripped of its most oppressive andobnoxious clauses, and at length ended in a fine upon the city ofEdinburgh in favour of Porteous's widow. So that, as somebody observed atthe time, the whole of these fierce debates ended in making the fortuneof an old cook-maid, such having been the good woman's original capacity.

  The court, however, did not forget the baffle they had received in thisaffair, and the Duke of Argyle, who had contributed so much to it, wasthereafter considered as a person in disgrace. It is necessary to placethese circumstances under the reader's observation, both because they areconnected with the preceding and subsequent part of our narrative.

  The Duke was alone in his study, when one of his gentlemen acquaintedhim, that a country-girl, from Scotland, was desirous of speaking withhis Grace.

  "A country-girl, and from Scotland!" said the Duke; "what can havebrought the silly fool to London?--Some lover pressed and sent to sea, orsome stock sank in the South-Sea funds, or some such hopeful concern, Isuppose, and then nobody to manage the matter but MacCallummore,--Well,this same popularity has its inconveniences.--However, show ourcountrywoman up, Archibald--it is ill manners to keep her in attendance."

  A young woman of rather low stature, and whose countenance might betermed very modest and pleasing in expression, though sun-burnt, somewhatfreckled, and not possessing regular features, was ushered into thesplendid library. She wore the tartan plaid of her country, adjusted soas partly to cover her head, and partly to fall back over her shoulders.A quantity of fair hair, disposed with great simplicity and neatness,appeared in front of her round and good-humoured face, to which thesolemnity of her errand, and her sense of the Duke's rank and importance,gave an appearance of deep awe, but not of slavish fear, or flutteredbashfulness. The rest of Jeanie's dress was in the style of Scottishmaidens of her own class; but arranged with that scrupulous attention toneatness and cleanliness, which we often find united with that purity ofmind, of which it is a natural emblem.

  She stopped near the entrance of the room, made her deepest reverence,and crossed her hands upon her bosom, without uttering a syllable. TheDuke of Argyle advanced towards her; and, if she admired his gracefuldeportment and rich dress, decorated with the orders which had beendeservedly bestowed on him, his courteous manner, and quick andintelligent cast of countenance, he on his part was not less, or lessdeservedly, struck with the quiet simplicity and modesty expressed in thedress, manners, and countenance of his humble countrywoman.

  "Did you wish to speak with me, my bonny lass?" said the Duke, using theencouraging epithet which at once acknowledged the connection betwixtthem as country-folk; "or did you wish to see the Duchess?"

  "My business is with your honour, my Lord--I mean your Lordship's Grace."

  "And what is it, my good girl?" said the Duke, in the same mild andenc
ouraging tone of voice. Jeanie looked at the attendant. "Leave us,Archibald," said the Duke, "and wait in the anteroom." The domesticretired. "And now sit down, my good lass," said the Duke; "take yourbreath--take your time, and tell me what you have got to say. I guess byyour dress, you are just come up from poor Scotland--Did you come throughthe streets in your tartan plaid?"

  "No, sir," said Jeanie; "a friend brought me in ane o' their streetcoaches--a very decent woman," she added, her courage increasing as shebecame familiar with the sound of her own voice in such a presence; "yourLordship's Grace kens her--it's Mrs. Glass, at the sign o' the Thistle."

  "O, my worthy snuff-merchant--I have always a chat with Mrs. Glass whenI purchase my Scots high-dried. Well, but your business, my bonnywoman--time and tide, you know, wait for no one."

  "Your honour--I beg your Lordship's pardon--I mean your Grace,"--for itmust be noticed, that this matter of addressing the Duke by hisappropriate title had been anxiously inculcated upon Jeanie by her friendMrs. Glass, in whose eyes it was a matter of such importance, that herlast words, as Jeanie left the coach, were, "Mind to say your Grace;" andJeanie, who had scarce ever in her life spoke to a person of higherquality than the Laird of Dumbiedikes, found great difficulty inarranging her language according to the rules of ceremony.

  The Duke, who saw her embarrassment, said, with his usual affability,"Never mind my grace, lassie; just speak out a plain tale, and show youhave a Scots tongue in your head."

  "Sir, I am muckle obliged--Sir, I am the sister of that poor unfortunatecriminal, Effie Deans, who is ordered for execution at Edinburgh."'

  "Ah!" said the Duke, "I have heard of that unhappy story, I think--a caseof child-murder, under a special act of parliament--Duncan Forbesmentioned it at dinner the other day."

  "And I was come up frae the north, sir, to see what could be done for herin the way of getting a reprieve or pardon, sir, or the like of that."

  "Alas! my poor girl," said the Duke; "you have made a long and a sadjourney to very little purpose--Your sister is ordered for execution."

  "But I am given to understand that there is law for reprieving her, if itis in the king's pleasure," said Jeanie.

  "Certainly, there is," said the Duke; "but that is purely in the king'sbreast. The crime has been but too common--the Scots crown-lawyers thinkit is right there should be an example. Then the late disorders inEdinburgh have excited a prejudice in government against the nation atlarge, which they think can only be managed by measures of intimidationand severity. What argument have you, my poor girl, except the warmth ofyour sisterly affection, to offer against all this?--What is yourinterest?--What friends have you at court?"

  "None, excepting God and your Grace," said Jeanie, still keeping herground resolutely, however.

  "Alas!" said the Duke, "I could almost say with old Ormond, that therecould not be any, whose influence was smaller with kings and ministers.It is a cruel part of our situation, young woman--I mean of the situationof men in my circumstances, that the public ascribe to them influencewhich they do not possess; and that individuals are led to expect fromthem assistance which we have no means of rendering. But candour andplain dealing is in the power of every one, and I must not let youimagine you have resources in my influence, which do not exist, to makeyour distress the heavier--I have no means of averting your sister'sfate--She must die."

  "We must a' die, sir," said Jeanie; "it is our common doom for ourfather's transgression; but we shouldna hasten ilk other out o' theworld, that's what your honour kens better than me."

  "My good young woman," said the Duke, mildly, "we are all apt to blamethe law under which we immediately suffer; but you seem to have been welleducated in your line of life, and you must know that it is alike the lawof God and man, that the murderer shall surely die."

  "But, sir, Effie--that is, my poor sister, sir--canna be proved to be amurderer; and if she be not, and the law take her life notwithstanding,wha is it that is the murderer then?"

  "I am no lawyer," said the Duke; "and I own I think the statute a verysevere one."

  "You are a law-maker, sir, with your leave; and, therefore, ye have powerover the law," answered Jeanie.

  "Not in my individual capacity," said the Duke; "though, as one of alarge body, I have a voice in the legislation. But that cannot serveyou--nor have I at present, I care not who knows it, so much personalinfluence with the sovereign, as would entitle me to ask from him themost insignificant favour. What could tempt you, young woman, to addressyourself to me?"

  "It was yourself, sir."

  "Myself?" he replied--"I am sure you have never seen me before."

  "No, sir; but a' the world kens that the Duke of Argyle is his country'sfriend; and that ye fight for the right, and speak for the right, andthat there's nane like you in our present Israel, and so they that thinkthemselves wranged draw to refuge under your shadow; and if ye wunna stirto save the blood of an innocent countrywoman of your ain, what should weexpect frae southerns and strangers? And maybe I had another reason fortroubling your honour."

  "And what is that?" asked the Duke.

  "I hae understood from my father, that your honour's house, andespecially your gudesire and his father, laid down their lives on thescaffold in the persecuting time. And my father was honoured to gie histestimony baith in the cage and in the pillory, as is specially mentionedin the books of Peter Walker the packman, that your honour, I dare say,kens, for he uses maist partly the westland of Scotland. And, sir,there's ane that takes concern in me, that wished me to gang to yourGrace's presence, for his gudesire had done your gracious gudesire somegood turn, as ye will see frae these papers."

  With these words, she delivered to the Duke the little parcel which shehad received from Butler. He opened it, and, in the envelope, read withsome surprise, "'Musterroll of the men serving in the troop of that godlygentleman, Captain Salathiel Bangtext.--Obadiah Muggleton, Sin-DespiseDouble-knock, Stand-fast-in-faith Gipps, Turn-to-the-right Thwack-away'--What the deuce is this? A list of Praise-God Barebone's Parliament Ithink, or of old Noll's evangelical army--that last fellow shouldunderstand his wheelings, to judge by his name.--But what does all thismean, my girl?"

  "It was the other paper, sir," said Jeanie, somewhat abashed at themistake.

  "O, this is my unfortunate grandfather's hand sure enough--'To all whomay have friendship for the house of Argyle, these are to certify, thatBenjamin Butler, of Monk's regiment of dragoons, having been, under God,the means of saving my life from four English troopers who were about, toslay me, I, having no other present means of recompense in my power, dogive him this acknowledgment, hoping that it may be useful to him or hisduring these troublesome times; and do conjure my friends, tenants,kinsmen, and whoever will do aught for me, either in the Highlands orLowlands, to protect and assist the said Benjamin Butler, and his friendsor family, on their lawful occasions, giving them such countenance,maintenance, and supply, as may correspond with the benefit he hathbestowed on me; witness my hand--Lorne.'

  "This is a strong injunction--This Benjamin Butler was your grandfather,I suppose?--You seem too young to have been his daughter."

  "He was nae akin to me, sir--he was grandfather to ane--to a neighbour'sson--to a sincere weel-wisher of mine, sir," dropping her little courtesyas she spoke.

  "O, I understand," said the Duke--"a true-love affair. He was thegrandsire of one you are engaged to?"

  "One I _was_ engaged to, sir," said Jeanie, sighing; "but this unhappybusiness of my poor sister"

  "What!" said the Duke, hastily--"he has not deserted you on that account,has he?"

  "No, sir; he wad be the last to leave a friend in difficulties," saidJeanie; "but I maun think for him as weel as for mysell. He is aclergyman, sir, and it would not beseem him to marry the like of me, wi'this disgrace on my kindred."

  "You are a singular young woman," said the Duke. "You seem to me to thinkof every one before yourself. And have you really come up from Edinburghon foot, to attempt this hopeless so
licitation for your sister's life?"

  "It was not a'thegither on foot, sir," answered Jeanie; "for I sometimesgot a cast in a waggon, and I had a horse from Ferrybridge, and then thecoach"

  "Well, never mind all that," interrupted the Duke--"What reason have youfor thinking your sister innocent?"

  "Because she has not been proved guilty, as will appear from looking atthese papers."

  She put into his hand a note of the evidence, and copies of her sister'sdeclaration. These papers Butler had procured after her departure, andSaddletree had them forwarded to London, to Mrs. Glass's care, so thatJeanie found the documents, so necessary for supporting her suit, lyingin readiness at her arrival.

  "Sit down in that chair, my good girl," said the Duke,--"until I glanceover the papers."

  She obeyed, and watched with the utmost anxiety each change in hiscountenance as he cast his eye through the papers briefly, yet withattention, and making memoranda as he went along. After reading themhastily over, he looked up, and seemed about to speak, yet changed hispurpose, as if afraid of committing himself by giving too hasty anopinion, and read over again several passages which he had marked asbeing most important. All this he did in shorter time than can besupposed by men of ordinary talents; for his mind was of that acute andpenetrating character which discovers, with the glance of intuition, whatfacts bear on the particular point that chances to be subjected toconsideration. At length he rose, after a few minutes' deep reflection.--"Young woman," said he, "your sister's case must certainly be termed ahard one."

  "God bless you, sir, for that very word!" said Jeanie.

  "It seems contrary to the genius of British law," continued the Duke, "totake that for granted which is not proved, or to punish with death for acrime, which, for aught the prosecutor has been able to show, may nothave been committed at all."

  "God bless you, sir!" again said Jeanie, who had risen from her seat,and, with clasped hands, eyes glittering through tears, and featureswhich trembled with anxiety, drank in every word which the Duke uttered.

  "But, alas! my poor girl," he continued, "what good will my opinion doyou, unless I could impress it upon those in whose hands your sister'slife is placed by the law? Besides, I am no lawyer; and I must speak withsome of our Scottish gentlemen of the gown about the matter."

  "O, but, sir, what seems reasonable to your honour, will certainly be thesame to them," answered Jeanie.

  "I do not know that," replied the Duke; "ilka man buckles his belt hisain gate--you know our old Scots proverb?--But you shall not have placedthis reliance on me altogether in vain. Leave these papers with me, andyou shall hear from me to-morrow or next day. Take care to be at home atMrs. Glass's, and ready to come to me at a moment's warning. It will beunnecessary for you to give Mrs. Glass the trouble to attend you;--and bythe by, you will please to be dressed just as you are at present."

  "I wad hae putten on a cap, sir," said Jeanie, "but your honour kens itisna the fashion of my country for single women; and I judged that, beingsae mony hundred miles frae hame, your Grace's heart wad warm to thetartan," looking at the corner of her plaid.

  "You judged quite right," said the Duke. "I know the full value of thesnood; and MacCallummore's heart will be as cold as death can make it,when it does _not_ warm to the tartan. Now, go away, and don't be out ofthe way when I send."

  Jeanie replied,--"There is little fear of that, sir, for I have littleheart to go to see sights amang this wilderness of black houses. But if Imight say to your gracious honour, that if ye ever condescend to speak toony ane that is of greater degree than yoursell, though maybe it isnacivil in me to say sae, just if you would think there can be nae sic oddsbetween you and them, as between poor Jeanie Deans from St. Leonard's andthe Duke of Argyle; and so dinna be chappit back or cast down wi' thefirst rough answer."

  "I am not apt," said the Duke, laughing, "to mind rough answers much--Donot you hope too much from what I have promised. I will do my best, butGod has the hearts of Kings in his own hand."

  Jeanie courtesied reverently and withdrew, attended by the Duke'sgentleman, to her hackney-coach, with a respect which her appearance didnot demand, but which was perhaps paid to the length of the interviewwith which his master had honoured her.