The Heart of Mid-Lothian, Volume 2 Page 5

  CHAPTER FIFTH.

  And Need and Misery, Vice and Danger, bind, In sad alliance, each degraded mind.

  As our traveller set out early on the ensuing morning to prosecute herjourney, and was in the act of leaving the innyard, Dick Ostler, whoeither had risen early or neglected to go to bed, either circumstancebeing equally incident to his calling, hollowed out after her,--"The topof the morning to you, Moggie. Have a care o' Gunderby Hill, young one.Robin Hood's dead and gwone, but there be takers yet in the vale ofBever. Jeanie looked at him as if to request a farther explanation, but,with a leer, a shuffle, and a shrug, inimitable (unless by Emery*), Dickturned again to the raw-boned steed which he was currying, and sung as heemployed the comb and brush,--

  "Robin Hood was a yeoman right good, And his bow was of trusty yew; And if Robin said stand on the king's lea-land, Pray, why should not we say so too?"

  * [John Emery, an eminent comedian, played successfully at Covent GardenTheatre between 1798 and 1820. Among his characters, were those of DandieDinmont in _Guy Mannering,_ Dougal in _Rob Roy,_ and Ratcliffe in theHeart of _Mid-Lothian._]

  Jeanie pursued her journey without farther inquiry, for there was nothingin Dick's manner that inclined her to prolong their conference. A painfulday's journey brought her to Ferrybridge, the best inn, then and since,upon the great northern road; and an introduction from Mrs. Bickerton,added to her own simple and quiet manners, so propitiated the landlady ofthe Swan in her favour, that the good dame procured her the convenientaccommodation of a pillion and post-horse then returning to Tuxford, sothat she accomplished, upon the second day after leaving York, thelongest journey she had yet made. She was a good deal fatigued by a modeof travelling to which she was less accustomed than to walking, and itwas considerably later than usual on the ensuing morning that she feltherself able to resume her pilgrimage. At noon the hundred-armed Trent,and the blackened ruins of Newark Castle, demolished in the great civilwar, lay before her. It may easily be supposed, that Jeanie had nocuriosity to make antiquarian researches, but, entering the town, wentstraight to the inn to which she had been directed at Ferrybridge. Whileshe procured some refreshment, she observed the girl who brought it toher, looked at her several times with fixed and peculiar interest, and atlast, to her infinite surprise, inquired if her name was not Deans, andif she was not a Scotchwoman, going to London upon justice business.Jeanie, with all her simplicity of character, had some of the caution ofher country, and, according to Scottish universal custom, she answeredthe question by another, requesting the girl would tell her why she askedthese questions?

  The Maritornes of the Saracen's Head, Newark, replied, "Two women hadpassed that morning, who had made inquiries after one Jeanie Deans,travelling to London on such an errand, and could scarce be persuadedthat she had not passed on."

  Much surprised and somewhat alarmed (for what is inexplicable is usuallyalarming), Jeanie questioned the wench about the particular appearance ofthese two women, but could only learn that the one was aged, and theother young; that the latter was the taller, and that the former spokemost, and seemed to maintain an authority over her companion, and thatboth spoke with the Scottish accent.

  This conveyed no information whatever, and with an indescribablepresentiment of evil designed towards her, Jeanie adopted the resolutionof taking post-horses for the next stage. In this, however, she could notbe gratified; some accidental circumstances had occasioned what is calleda run upon the road, and the landlord could not accommodate her with aguide and horses. After waiting some time, in hopes that a pair of horsesthat had gone southward would return in time for her use, she at length,feeling ashamed at her own pusillanimity, resolved to prosecute herjourney in her usual manner.

  "It was all plain road," she was assured, "except a high mountain calledGunnerby Hill, about three miles from Grantham, which was her stage forthe night.

  "I'm glad to hear there's a hill," said Jeanie, "for baith my sight andmy very feet are weary o' sic tracts o' level ground--it looks a' the waybetween this and York as if a' the land had been trenched and levelled,whilk is very wearisome to my Scotch een. When I lost sight of a muckleblue hill they ca' Ingleboro', I thought I hadna a friend left in thisstrange land."

  "As for the matter of that, young woman," said mine host, "an you be sofond o' hill, I carena an thou couldst carry Gunnerby away with thee inthy lap, for it's a murder to post-horses. But here's to thy journey, andmayst thou win well through it, for thou is a bold and a canny lass."

  So saying, he took a powerful pull at a solemn tankard of home-brewedale.

  "I hope there is nae bad company on the road, sir?" said Jeanie.

  "Why, when it's clean without them I'll thatch Groby pool wi' pancakes.But there arena sae mony now; and since they hae lost Jim the Rat, theyhold together no better than the men of Marsham when they lost theircommon. Take a drop ere thou goest," he concluded, offering her thetankard; "thou wilt get naething at night save Grantham gruel, nine grotsand a gallon of water."

  Jeanie courteously declined the tankard, and inquired what was her"lawing?"

  "Thy lawing! Heaven help thee, wench! what ca'st thou that?"

  "It is--I was wanting to ken what was to pay," replied Jeanie.

  "Pay? Lord help thee!--why nought, woman--we hae drawn no liquor but agill o' beer, and the Saracen's Head can spare a mouthful o' meat to astranger like o' thee, that cannot speak Christian language. So here's tothee once more. The same again, quoth Mark of Bellgrave," and he tookanother profound pull at the tankard.

  The travellers who have visited Newark more lately, will not fail toremember the remarkably civil and gentlemanly manners of the person whonow keeps the principal inn there, and may find some amusement incontrasting them with those of his more rough predecessor. But we believeit will be found that the polish has worn off none of the real worth ofthe metal.

  Taking leave of her Lincolnshire Gaius, Jeanie resumed her solitary walk,and was somewhat alarmed when evening and twilight overtook her in theopen ground which extends to the foot of Gunnerby Hill, and isintersected with patches of copse and with swampy spots. The extensivecommons on the north road, most of which are now enclosed, and in generala relaxed state of police, exposed the traveller to a highway robbery ina degree which is now unknown, except in the immediate vicinity of themetropolis. Aware of this circumstance, Jeanie mended her pace when sheheard the trampling of a horse behind, and instinctively drew to one sideof the road, as if to allow as much room for the rider to pass as mightbe possible. When the animal came up, she found that it was bearing twowomen, the one placed on a side-saddle, the other on a pillion behindher, as may still occasionally be seen in England.

  "A braw good-night to ye, Jeanie Deans," said the foremost female as thehorse passed our heroine; "What think ye o' yon bonny hill yonder,lifting its brow to the moon? Trow ye yon's the gate to heaven, that yeare sae fain of?--maybe we will win there the night yet, God sain us,though our minny here's rather dreigh in the upgang."

  The speaker kept changing her seat in the saddle, and half stopping thehorse as she brought her body round, while the woman that sate behind heron the pillion seemed to urge her on, in words which Jeanie heard butimperfectly.

  "Hand your tongue, ye moon-raised b----! what is your business with ----,or with heaven or hell either?"

  "Troth, mither, no muckle wi' heaven, I doubt, considering wha I carryahint me--and as for hell, it will fight its ain battle at its ain time,I'se be bound.--Come, naggie, trot awa, man, an as thou wert abroomstick, for a witch rides thee--

  With my curtch on my foot, and my shoe on my hand, I glance like the wildfire through brugh and through land."

  The tramp of the horse, and the increasing distance, drowned the rest ofher song, but Jeanie heard for some time the inarticulate sounds ringalong the waste.

  Our pilgrim remained stupified with undefined apprehensions. The beingnamed b
y her name in so wild a manner, and in a strange country, withoutfarther explanation or communing, by a person who thus strangely flittedforward and disappeared before her, came near to the supernatural soundsin Comus:--

  The airy tongues, which syllable men's names On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses.

  And although widely different in features, deportment, and rank, from theLady of that enchanting masque, the continuation of the passage may behappily applied to Jeanie Deans upon this singular alarm:--

  These thoughts may startle well, but not astound The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended By a strong siding champion--Conscience.

  In fact, it was, with the recollection of the affectionate and dutifulerrand on which she was engaged, her right, if such a word could beapplicable, to expect protection in a task so meritorious. She had notadvanced much farther, with a mind calmed by these reflections, when shewas disturbed by a new and more instant subject of terror. Two men, whohad been lurking among some copse, started up as she advanced, and mether on the road in a menacing manner. "Stand and deliver," said one ofthem, a short stout fellow, in a smock-frock, such as are worn bywaggoners.

  "The woman," said the other, a tall thin figure, "does not understand thewords of action.--Your money, my precious, or your life."

  "I have but very little money, gentlemen," said poor Jeanie, tenderingthat portion which she had separated from her principal stock, and keptapart for such an emergency; "but if you are resolved to have it, to besure you must have it."

  "This won't do, my girl. D--n me, if it shall pass!" said the shorterruffian; "do ye think gentlemen are to hazard their lives on the road tobe cheated in this way? We'll have every farthing you have got, or wewill strip you to the skin, curse me."

  His companion, who seemed to have something like compassion for thehorror which Jeanie's countenance now expressed, said, "No, no, Tom, thisis one of the precious sisters, and we'll take her word, for once,without putting her to the stripping proof--Hark ye, my lass, if ye lookup to heaven, and say, this is the last penny you have about ye, why,hang it, we'll let you pass."

  "I am not free," answered Jeanie, "to say what I have about me,gentlemen, for there's life and death depends on my journey; but if youleave me as much as finds me bread and water, I'll be satisfied, andthank you, and pray for you."

  "D--n your prayers!" said the shorter fellow, "that's a coin that won'tpass with us;" and at the same time made a motion to seize her.

  "Stay, gentlemen," Ratcliffe's pass suddenly occurring to her; "perhapsyou know this paper."

  "What the devil is she after now, Frank?" said the more savageruffian--"Do you look at it, for, d--n me if I could read it if it werefor the benefit of my clergy."

  "This is a jark from Jim Ratcliffe," said the taller, having looked atthe bit of paper. "The wench must pass by our cutter's law."

  "I say no," answered his companion; "Rat has left the lay, and turnedbloodhound, they say."

  "We may need a good turn from him all the same," said the taller ruffianagain.

  "But what are we to do then?" said the shorter man--"We promised, youknow, to strip the wench, and send her begging back to her own beggarlycountry, and now you are for letting her go on."

  "I did not say that," said the other fellow, and whispered to hiscompanion, who replied, "Be alive about it then, and don't keepchattering till some travellers come up to nab us."

  "You must follow us off the road, young woman," said the taller.

  "For the love of God!" exclaimed Jeanie, "as you were born of woman,dinna ask me to leave the road! rather take all I have in the world."

  "What the devil is the wench afraid of?" said the other fellow. "I tellyou you shall come to no harm; but if you will not leave the road andcome with us, d--n me, but I'll beat your brains out where you stand."

  "Thou art a rough bear, Tom," said his companion.--"An ye touch her, I'llgive ye a shake by the collar shall make the Leicester beans rattle inthy guts.--Never mind him, girl; I will not allow him to lay a finger onyou, if you walk quietly on with us; but if you keep jabbering there,d--n me, but I'll leave him to settle it with you."

  This threat conveyed all that is terrible to the imagination of poorJeanie, who saw in him that "was of milder mood" her only protection fromthe most brutal treatment. She, therefore, not only followed him, buteven held him by the sleeve, lest he should escape from her; and thefellow, hardened as he was, seemed something touched by these marks ofconfidence, and repeatedly assured her, that he would suffer her toreceive no harm.

  They conducted their prisoner in a direction leading more and more fromthe public road, but she observed that they kept a sort of track orby-path, which relieved her from part of her apprehensions, which wouldhave been greatly increased had they not seemed to follow a determinedand ascertained route. After about half-an-hour's walking, all three inprofound silence, they approached an old barn, which stood on the edge ofsome cultivated ground, but remote from everything like a habitation. Itwas itself, however, tenanted, for there was light in the windows.

  One of the footpads scratched at the door, which was opened by a female,and they entered with their unhappy prisoner. An old woman, who waspreparing food by the assistance of a stifling fire of lighted charcoal,asked them, in the name of the devil, what they brought the wench therefor, and why they did not strip her and turn her abroad on the common?

  "Come, come, Mother Blood," said the tall man, "we'll do what's right tooblige you, and we'll do no more; we are bad enough, but not such as youwould make us,--devils incarnate."

  "She has got a jark from Jim Ratcliffe," said the short fellow, "andFrank here won't hear of our putting her through the mill."

  "No, that I will not, by G--d!" answered Frank; "but if old Mother Bloodcould keep her here for a little while, or send her back to Scotland,without hurting her, why, I see no harm in that--not I."

  "I'll tell you what, Frank Levitt," said the old woman, "if you call meMother Blood again, I'll paint this gully" (and she held a knife up as ifabout to make good her threat) "in the best blood in your body, my bonnyboy."

  "The price of ointment must be up in the north," said Frank, "that putsMother Blood so much out of humour."

  Without a moment's hesitation the fury darted her knife at him with thevengeful dexterity of a wild Indian. As he was on his guard, he avoidedthe missile by a sudden motion of his head, but it whistled past his ear,and stuck deep in the clay wall of a partition behind.

  "Come, come, mother," said the robber, seizing her by both wrists, "Ishall teach you who's master;" and so saying, he forced the hag backwardsby main force, who strove vehemently until she sunk on a bunch of straw,and then, letting go her hands, he held up his finger towards her in themenacing posture by which a maniac is intimidated by his keeper. Itappeared to produce the desired effect; for she did not attempt to risefrom the seat on which he had placed her, or to resume any measures ofactual violence, but wrung her withered hands with impotent rage, andbrayed and howled like a demoniac.

  "I will keep my promise with you, you old devil," said Frank; "the wenchshall not go forward on the London road, but I will not have you touch ahair of her head, if it were but for your insolence."

  This intimation seemed to compose in some degree the vehement passion ofthe old hag; and while her exclamations and howls sunk into a low,maundering, growling tone of voice, another personage was added to thissingular party.

  "Eh, Frank Levitt," said this new-comer, who entered with a hop, step,and jump, which at once conveyed her from the door into the centre of theparty, "were ye killing our mother? or were ye cutting the grunter'sweasand that Tam brought in this morning? or have ye been reading yourprayers backward, to bring up my auld acquaintance the deil amang ye?"

  The tone of the speaker was so particular, that Jeanie immediatelyrecognised the woman who had rode foremost of the pair which passed herjust before she met the robbers; a circumstance which
greatly increasedher terror, as it served to show that the mischief designed against herwas premeditated, though by whom, or for what cause, she was totally at aloss to conjecture. From the style of her conversation, the reader alsomay probably acknowledge in this female an old acquaintance in theearlier part of our narrative.

  "Out, ye mad devil!" said Tom, whom she had disturbed in the middle of adraught of some liquor with which he had found means of accommodatinghimself; "betwixt your Bess of Bedlam pranks, and your dam's frenzies, aman might live quieter in the devil's ken than here."--And he againresumed the broken jug out of which he had been drinking.

  "And wha's this o't?" said the mad woman, dancing up to Jeanie Deans,who, although in great terror, yet watched the scene with a resolution tolet nothing pass unnoticed which might be serviceable in assisting her toescape, or informing her as to the true nature of her situation, and thedanger attending it,--"Wha's this o't?" again exclaimed Madge Wildfire.

  "Douce Davie Deans, the auld doited whig body's daughter, in a gipsy'sbarn, and the night setting in? This is a sight for sair een!--Eh, sirs,the falling off o' the godly!--and the t'other sister's in the Tolboothof Edinburgh; I am very sorry for her, for my share--it's my motherwusses ill to her, and no me--though maybe I hae as muckle cause."

  "Hark ye, Madge," said the taller ruffian, "you have not such a touch ofthe devil's blood as the hag your mother, who may be his dam for what Iknow--take this young woman to your kennel, and do not let the devilenter, though he should ask in God's name."

  "Ou ay; that I will, Frank," said Madge, taking hold of Jeanie by thearm, and pulling her along; "for it's no for decent Christian youngleddies, like her and me, to be keeping the like o' you and Tyburn Tamcompany at this time o' night. Sae gude-e'en t'ye, sirs, and mony o'them; and may ye a' sleep till the hangman wauken ye, and then it will beweel for the country."

  She then, as her wild fancy seemed suddenly to prompt her, walkeddemurely towards her mother, who, seated by the charcoal fire, with thereflection of the red light on her withered and distorted features markedby every evil passion, seemed the very picture of Hecate at her infernalrites; and, suddenly dropping on her knees, said, with the manner of asix years' old child, "Mammie, hear me say my prayers before I go to bed,and say God bless my bonny face, as ye used to do lang syne."

  "The deil flay the hide o' it to sole his brogues wi'!" said the oldlady, aiming a buffet at the supplicant, in answer to her duteousrequest.

  The blow missed Madge, who, being probably acquainted by experience withthe mode in which her mother was wont to confer her maternalbenedictions, slipt out of arm's length with great dexterity andquickness. The hag then started up, and, seizing a pair of oldfire-tongs, would have amended her motion, by beating out the brainseither of her daughter or Jeanie (she did not seem greatly to carewhich), when her hand was once more arrested by the man whom they calledFrank Levitt, who, seizing her by the shoulder, flung her from him withgreat violence, exclaiming, "What, Mother Damnable--again, and in mysovereign presence!--Hark ye, Madge of Bedlam! get to your hole with yourplayfellow, or we shall have the devil to pay here, and nothing to payhim with."

  Madge took Levitt's advice, retreating as fast as she could, and draggingJeanie along with her into a sort of recess, partitioned off from therest of the barn, and filled with straw, from which it appeared that itwas intended for the purpose of slumber. The moonlight shone, through anopen hole, upon a pillion, a pack-saddle, and one or two wallets, thetravelling furniture of Madge and her amiable mother.--"Now, saw ye e'erin your life," said Madge, "sae dainty a chamber of deas? see as the moonshines down sae caller on the fresh strae! There's no a pleasanter cellin Bedlam, for as braw a place as it is on the outside.--Were ye ever inBedlam?"

  "No," answered Jeanie faintly, appalled by the question, and the way inwhich it was put, yet willing to soothe her insane companion, being incircumstances so unhappily precarious, that even the society of thisgibbering madwoman seemed a species of protection.

  "Never in Bedlam?" said Madge, as if with some surprise.--"But ye'll haebeen in the cells at Edinburgh!"

  "Never," repeated Jeanie.

  "Weel, I think thae daft carles the magistrates send naebody to Bedlambut me--thae maun hae an unco respect for me, for whenever I am broughtto them, thae aye hae me back to Bedlam. But troth, Jeanie" (she saidthis in a very confidential tone), "to tell ye my private mind about it,I think ye are at nae great loss; for the keeper's a cross-patch, and hemaun hae it a' his ain gate, to be sure, or he makes the place waur thanhell. I often tell him he's the daftest in a' the house.--But what arethey making sic a skirling for?--Deil ane o' them's get in here--it wadnabe mensfu'! I will sit wi' my back again the door; it winna be that easystirring me."

  "Madge!"--"Madge!"--"Madge Wildfire!"--"Madge devil! what have ye donewith the horse?" was repeatedly asked by the men without.

  "He's e'en at his supper, puir thing," answered Madge; "deil an ye wereat yours, too, an it were scauding brimstone, and then we wad hae less o'your din."

  "His supper!" answered the more sulky ruffian--"What d'ye mean bythat!--Tell me where he is, or I will knock your Bedlam brains out!"

  "He's in Gaffer Gablewood's wheat-close, an ye maun ken."

  "His wheat-close, you crazed jilt!" answered the other, with an accent ofgreat indignation.

  "O, dear Tyburn Tam, man, what ill will the blades of the young wheat doto the puir nag?"

  "That is not the question," said the other robber; "but what the countrywill say to us to-morrow, when they see him in such quarters?--Go, Tom,and bring him in; and avoid the soft ground, my lad; leave no hoof-trackbehind you."

  "I think you give me always the fag of it, whatever is to be done,"grumbled his companion.

  "Leap, Laurence, you're long enough," said the other; and the fellow leftthe barn accordingly, without farther remonstrance.

  In the meanwhile, Madge had arranged herself for repose on the straw; butstill in a half-sitting posture, with her back resting against the doorof the hovel, which, as it opened inwards, was in this manner kept shutby the weight of the person.

  "There's mair shifts by stealing, Jeanie," said Madge Wildfire; "thoughwhiles I can hardly get our mother to think sae. Wha wad hae thought butmysell of making a bolt of my ain back-bane? But it's no sae strong asthae that I hae seen in the Tolbooth at Edinburgh. The hammermen ofEdinburgh are to my mind afore the warld for making stancheons,ring-bolts, fetter-bolts, bars, and locks. And they arena that bad atgirdles for carcakes neither, though the Cu'ross hammermen have the greefor that. My mother had ance a bonny Cu'ross girdle, and I thought tohave baked carcakes on it for my puir wean that's dead and gane nae fairway--But we maun a' dee, ye ken, Jeanie--You Cameronian bodies ken thatbrawlies; and ye're for making a hell upon earth that ye may be lessunwillin' to part wi' it. But as touching Bedlam that ye were speakingabout, I'se ne'er recommend it muckle the tae gate or the other, be itright--be it wrang. But ye ken what the sang says." And, pursuing theunconnected and floating wanderings of her mind, she sung aloud--

  "In the bonny cells of Bedlam, Ere I was ane-and-twenty, I had hempen bracelets strong, And merry whips, ding-dong, And prayer and fasting plenty.

  "Weel, Jeanie, I am something herse the night, and I canna sing mucklemair; and troth, I think, I am gaun to sleep."

  She drooped her head on her breast, a posture from which Jeanie, whowould have given the world for an opportunity of quiet to consider themeans and the probability of her escape, was very careful not to disturbher. After nodding, however, for a minute'or two, with her eyeshalf-closed, the unquiet and restless spirit of her malady again assailedMadge. She raised her head, and spoke, but with a lowered tone, which wasagain gradually overcome by drowsiness, to which the fatigue of a day'sjourney on horseback had probably given unwonted occasion,--"I dinna kenwhat makes me sae sleepy--I amaist never sleep till my bonny Lady Moongangs till her bed--mair
by token, when she's at the full, ye ken, rowingaboon us yonder in her grand silver coach--I have danced to her my lanesometimes for very joy--and whiles dead folk came and danced wi' me--thelike o' Jock Porteous, or ony body I had ken'd when I was living--for yemaun ken I was ance dead mysell." Here the poor maniac sung, in a low andwild tone,

  "My banes are buried in yon kirkyard Sae far ayont the sea, And it is but my blithesome ghaist That's speaking now to thee.

  "But after a', Jeanie, my woman, naebody kens weel wha's living and wha'sdead--or wha's gone to Fairyland--there's another question. Whiles Ithink my puir bairn's dead--ye ken very weel it's buried--but thatsignifies naething. I have had it on my knee a hundred times, and ahundred till that, since it was buried--and how could that be were itdead, ye ken?--it's merely impossible."--And here, some convictionhalf-overcoming the reveries of her imagination, she burst into a fit ofcrying and ejaculation, "Wae's me! wae's me! wae's me!" till at lengthshe moaned and sobbed herself into a deep sleep, which was soon intimatedby her breathing hard, leaving Jeanie to her own melancholy reflectionsand observations.