Who conjure Hebrew into Anglo-Saxon, The Scene returns to the Apartment at the beginning of Act Second. OSWALD and DURWARD are discovered with ELEANOR, FLORA, and LEONARD. DURWARD shuts a Prayer-book, which he seems to have been reading. Dur. 'Tis true-the difference betwixt the churches, Os. We thank thee, father, for the holy office, Enter GULLCRAMMER, in the fashion in which OWLSPIEGLE had put him having the fool's-cap on his head, and towel about his neck, etc. His manner through the scene is wild and extravagant, as if the fright had a little affected his brain. Dur. A goodly spectacle!-Is there such a goblin? He is an honest fellow for a devil, (Sings.) "My hope, my joy, My Cockledemoy!" Leo. The fool's bewitch'd-the goblin hath furnish'd A cap which well befits his reverend wisdom. [him Flo. If I could think he had lost his slender wits, I should be sorry for the trick they play'd him. Leo. O fear him not; it were a foul reflection On any fiend of sense and reputation, To filch such petty wares as his poor brains. To cheat starved barons with, can little guess at. Flo. If he begin so roundly with my father, His madness is not like to save his bones. Gull. Sirs, midnight came, and with it came the goblin. I had reposed me after some brief study; Gull. I hear strange notes of music, and the clash [these? Voices (without). We come, dark riders of the night, And flit before the dawning light; Hill and valley, far aloof, Shake to hear our chargers' hoof; But not a foot-stamp on the green At morn shall show where we have been. Os. These must be revellers belated- [Flourish of trumpets at a distance, then nearer. They sound a summons; What can they lack at this dead hour of night? Look out, and see their number, and their bearing. Leo. (goes up to the window.) "Tis strange-one single shadowy form alone Is hovering on the drawbridge-far apart Dur. I charge thee in the name we late have kneel'd Pal. Abbot of Lanercost, I bid thee peace! Uninterrupted let me do mine errand : Dur. What saw'st thou, sir? What heard'st thou? The habit of a peasant?-Tell me, wherefore Gull. What was't I saw and heard? That which old greybeards, Are thy fair halls thus waste-thy chambers bareWhere are the tapestries, where the conquer'd banners, Os. Peace! I will answer here; to me he spoke. That his commission bore-and Heaven designs, Mysterious stranger, briefly I reply: A peasant's dress befits a peasant's fortune; [He drops his mantle, and is discovered armed Os. It is himself—the spirit of mine Ancestor! [He strikes the wall, it opens and discovers There lies piled The wealth I brought from wasted Cumberland, Enough to reinstate thy ruin'd fortunes.— Cast from thine high-born brows that peasant bonnet, Throw from thy noble grasp the peasant's staff, O'er all, withdraw thine hand from that mean mate, Whom in an hour of reckless desperation Thy fortunes cast thee on. This do, And be as great as ere was Devorgoil, When Devorgoil was richest!' Dur. Lord Oswald, thou art tempted by a fiend, El. Urge him not, father; if the sacrifice Os. No, Ellen, no—it is not thus they part, [grate, Er. Then Fate will have her course-Fall, massive Yield them the tempting view of these rich treasures, But bar them from possession! [A portcullis falls before the door of the Treasure Chamber. Mortals, hear! No hand may ope that grate, except the Heir If I may spell his will, to rescue Devorgoil Leo. (advances and attempts the grate.) It is fast As is the tower, rock-seated. Os. We will fetch other means, and prove its strength, Nor starve in poverty with wealth before us. Dur. Think what the vision spoke; The key-the fated key—— Enter GULLCRAMMER. Gull. A key?—I say a quay is what we want, Enter KATLEEN and BLACKTHORN. Kat. Peers, like ambitious tyrant, o'er his bounds, Kat. Let us escape! Why stand you gazing there? Kat. (giving the key.) Here, prove this; A chance most strange and fearful gave it me. [Oswald puts it into the lock, and attempts to turn it—a loud clap of thunder. Flo. The lake still rises faster.-Leonard, Leonard, Canst thou not save us! [LEONARD tries the lock-it opens with a violent noise, and the Portcullis rises. A loud strain of wild music.-There may be a Chorus here. OSWALD enters the apartment, and brings out a scroll. Leo. The lake is ebbing with as wondrous haste [GULLCRAMMER offers to take it. [one!Gull. Thanks, mighty baron, now no more a bare I will be quaint with him, for all his quips. [Aside. Kat. Thanks, my good lord, but Katleen's fate is There is a certain valiant forester, Too much afear'd of ghosts to sleep anights No more this castle's troubled guest, There is not, perhaps, upon record, a tale of horror which gives us a more perfect picture than is afforded by the present, of the violence of our ancestors, or the complicated crimes into which they were hurried, by what their wise, but ill-enforced laws, termed the heathenish and accursed practice of Deadly Feud. The author has tried to extract some dramatic scenes out of it; but he is conscious no exertions of his can increase the horror of that which is in itself so iniquitous. Yet if we look at modern events, we must not too hastily venture to conclude that our own times have so much the superiority over former days as we might at first be tempted to infer. One great object has indeed been obtained. The power of the laws extends over the country universally, and if criminals at present sometimes escape punishment, this can only be by eluding justice,-not, as of old, by defying it. But the motives which influence modern ruffians to commit actions at which we pause with wonder and horror, arise, in a great measure, from the thirst of gain. For the hope of lucre, we have seen a wretch seduced to his fate, under the pretext that he was to share in amusement and conviviality; and for gold, we have seen the meanest of wretches deprived of life, and their miserable remains cheated of the grave. The loftier, if equally cruel, feelings of pride, ambition, and love of vengeance, were the idols of our forefathers, while the caitiffs of our day bend to Mammon, the meanest of the spirits who fell. The criminals, therefore, of former times, drew their hellish inspiration from a loftier source than is known to modern villains. The fever of unsated ambition, the frenzy of ungratified revenge, the perfervidum ingenium Scotorum, stigmatized by our jurists and our legislators, held life but as passing breath; and such enormities as now sound like the acts of a madman, were then the familiar deeds of every offended noble. With these observations we proceed to our story. John Muir, or Mure, of Auchindrane, the contriver and executor of the following cruelties, was a gentleman of an ancient family and good estate in the west of Scotland; bold, ambitious, treacherous to the last degree, and utterly unconscientious,—a Richard the Third in private life, inaccessible alike to pity and to remorse. His view was to raise the power, and extend the grandeur, of his own family. This gentleman had married the daughter of Sir Thomas Kennedy of Barganie, who was, excepting the Earl of Cassilis, the most important person in all Carrick, the district of Ayrshire which he inhabited, and where the name of Kennedy held so great a sway as to give rise to the popular rhyme, "Twixt Wigton and the town of Air, 2 [MS.-"The storms of angry Fate are past Constancy abides their blast. Of Devorgoil the daughter fair Shall wed with Dacre's injured heir; The silver moon of Devorgoil."] ["Mammon led them on : Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell Now, Mure of Auchindrane, who had promised himself high advancement by means of his father-in-law Barganie, saw, with envy and resentment, that his influence remained second and inferior to the House of Cassilis, chief of all the Kennedys. The Earl was indeed a minor, but his authority was maintained, and his affairs well managed, by his uncle, Sir Thomas Kennedy of Cullayne, the brother to the deceased Earl, and tutor and guardian to the present. This worthy gentleman supported his nephew's dignity and the credit of the house so effectually, that Barganie's consequence was much thrown into the shade, and the ambitious Auchindrane, his son-in-law, saw no better remedy than to remove so formidable a rival as Cullayne by violent means. For this purpose, in the year of God 1597, he came with a party of followers to the town of Maybole, (where Sir Thomas Kennedy of Cullayne then resided, and lay in ambush in an orchard, through which he knew his destined victim was to pass, in returning homewards from a house where he was engaged to sup. Sir Thomas Kennedy came alone, and unattended, when he was suddenly fired upon by Auchindrane and his accomplices, who, having missed their aim, drew their swords, and rushed upon him to slay him. But the party thus assailed at disadvantage, had the good fortune to hide himself for that time in a ruinous house, where he lay concealed till the inhabitants of the place came to his assistance. Sir Thomas Kennedy prosecuted Mure for this assault, who, finding himself in danger from the law, made a sort of apology and agreement with the Lord of Cullayne, to whose daughter he united his eldest son, in testimony of the closest friendship in future. This agreement was sincere on the part of Kennedy, who, after it had been entered into, showed himself Auchindrane's friend and assistant on all occasions. But it was most false and treacherous on that of Mure, who continued to nourish the purpose of murdering his new friend and ally on the first opportunity. Auchindrane's first attempt to effect this, was by means of the young Gilbert Kennedy of Barganie, (for old Barganie, Auchindrane's father-in-law, was dead,) whom he persuaded to brave the Earl of Cassilis, as one who usurped an undue influence over the rest of the name. Accordingly, this hot-headed youth, at the instigation of Auchindrane, rode past the gate of the Earl of Cassilis, without waiting on his chief, or sending him any message of civility. This led to mutual defiance, being regarded by the Earl, according to the ideas of the time, as a personal insult. Both parties took the field with their followers, at the head of about two hundred and fifty men on each side. The action which ensued was shorter and less bloody than might have been expected. Young Barganie, with the rashness of headlong courage, and Auchindrane, fired by deadly enmity to the House of Cassilis, made a precipitate attack on the Earl, whose men were strongly posted and under cover. They were received by a heavy fire. Barganie was slain. Mure of Auchindrane, severely wounded in the thigh, became unable to sit his horse, and the leaders thus slain or disabled, their party drew off without continuing the action. It must be particularly observed, that Sir Thomas Kennedy remained neuter in this quarrel, considering his connexion with Auchindrane as too intimate to be broken even by his desire to assist his nephew. For this temperate and honourable conduct he met a vile reward; for Auchindrane, in resentment of the loss of his relative Barganie, and the downfall of his ambitious hopes, continued his practices against the life of Sir Thomas of Cullayne, though totally innocent of contributing to either. Chance favoured his wicked purpose. The Knight of Cullayne, finding himself obliged to go to Edinburgh on a particular day sent a message by a servant to Mure, in which he told him, in the most unsuspecting confidence, the purpose of his journey, and named the road which he proposed to take, inviting Mure to meet him at Duppill, to the west of the town of Ayr, a place appointed, for the purpose of giving him any commissions which he might have for Edinburgh, and assuring his treacherous ally he would attend to any business which he might have in the Scottish metropolis as anxiously as to his own. Sir Thomas Kennedy's message was carried to the town of Maybole, where his messenger, for some trivial reason, had the import committed to writing by a schoolmaster in that town, and despatched it to its destination by means of a poor student, named Dalrymple, instead of carrying it to the house of Auchindrane in person. This suggested to Mure a diabolical plot. Having thus received tidings of Sir Thomas Kennedy's motions, he conceived the infernal purpose of having the confiding friend who sent the information, waylaid and murdered at the place appointed to meet with him, not only in friendship, but for the purpose of rendering him service. He dismissed the messenger Dalrymple, cautioning the lad to carry back the letter to Maybole, and to say that he had not found him, Auchindrane, in his house. Having taken this precaution, he proceeded to instigate the brother of the slain Gilbert of Barganie, Thomas Kennedy of Drum-urghie by name, and Walter Mure of Cloncaird, a kinsman of his own, to take this opportunity of revenging Barganie's death. The fiery young men were easily induced to undertake the crime. They waylaid the unsuspecting Sir Thomas of Cullayne at the place appointed to meet the traitor Auchindrane, and the murderers having in company five or six servants, well mounted and armed, assaulted and cruelly murdered him with many wounds. They then plundered the dead corpse of his purse, containing a thousand merks in gold, cut off the gold buttons which he wore on his coat, and despoiled the body of some valuable rings and jewels.1 ["No papers which have hitherto been discovered appear to afford so striking a picture of the savage state of barbarism into which that country must have sunk, as the following Bond by the Earl of Cassilis, to his brother and heir-apparent, Hew, Master of Cassilis. The uncle of these young men, Sir Thomas Kennedy of Culzean, Tutor of Cassilis, as the reader will recollect, was murdered, May 14th, 1602, by Auchindrane's accomplices. "The Master of Cassilis, for many years previous fo that event, was in open hostility to his brother. During all that period, however, the Master maintained habits of the closest intimacy with Auchindrane and his dissolute associates, and actually joined him in various hostile enterprises against his brother the Earl. The occurrence of the Laird of Culzean's murder was embraced by their mutual friends, as a fitting opportunity to effect a permanent reconciliation between the brothers; bot' (as the Historie of the Kennedies,' p. 59, quaintly informs us)'the cuntry thocht that he wald not be eirnest in that cause, for the auld luiff betuix him and Auchindrayne.' The unprincipled Earl, (whose sobriquet, and that of some of his ancestors, was King of Carrick, to denote the boundless sway which be exercised over his own vassals and the inhabitants of that district,) relying on his brother's necessities, held out the infamous bribe contained in the following Bond, to induce his brother, the Master of Cass!lis, to murder bis former friend, the old Laird of Auchindrane. Though there be honour among thieves, it would seem that there is none among assassins; for the younger brother insisted upon having the price of blood assured to him by a written document, drawn up in the form of a regular Bond! "Judging by the Earl's former and subsequent history, he probably thought that, in either event, his purposes would be attained, by 'killing two birds with one stone.' On the other hand, however, it is but doing justice to the Master's acuteness, and the experience acquired under his quondam preceptor, Auchindrane, that we should likewise conjecture that, on his part, he would hold firm possession of the Bond, to be used as a checkmate against his brother, should be think fit afterwards to turn bis heel upon him, or attempt to betray him into the hands of justice. I The revenge due for his uncle's murder was keenly pur- | James Bannatyne. This man he commissioned to meet sued by the Earl of Cassilis. As the murderers fled from trial, they were declared outlaws; which doom, being pronounced by three blasts of a horn, was called "being put to the horn, and declared the king's rebel." Mure of Auchindrane was strongly suspected of having been the instigator of the crime. But he conceived there could be no evidence to prove his guilt if he could keep the boy Dalrymple out of the way, who delivered the letter which made him acquainted with Cullayne's journey, and the place at which he meant to halt. On the contrary, he saw, that if the lad could be produced at the trial, it would afford ground of fatal presumption, since it could be then proved that persons so nearly connected with him as Kennedy and Cloncaird had left his house, and committed the murder at the very spot which Cullayne had fixed for their meeting. To avoid this imminent danger Mure brought Dalrymple to his house, and detained him there for several weeks. But the youth tiring of this confinement, Mure sent him to reside with a friend, Montgomery of Skellmorly, who maintained him under a borrowed name, amid the desert regions of the then almost savage island of Arran. Being confident in the absence of this material witness, Auchindrane, instead of flying, like his agents Drum-urghie and Cloncaird, presented himself boldly at the bar, demanded a fair trial, and offered his person in combat to the death against any of Lord Cassilis's friends who might impugn his innocence. This audacity was successful, and he was dismissed without trial. Still, however, Mure did not consider himself safe, so long as Dalrymple was within the realm of Scotland; and the danger grew more pressing, when he learned that the lad had become impatient of the restraint which he sustained in the island of Arran, and returned to some of his friends in Ayrshire. Mure no sooner heard of this than he again obtained possession of the boy's person, and a second time concealed him at Auchindrane, until he found an opportunity to transport him to the Low Countries, where he contrived to have him enlisted in Buccleuch's regiment; trusting, doubtless, that some one of the numerous chances of war might destroy the poor young man whose life was so dangerous to him. But after five or six years' uncertain safety, bought at the expence of so much violence and cunning, Auchindrane's fears were exasperated into frenzy, when he found this dangerous witness, having escaped from all the perils of climate and battle, had left, or been discharged from, the Legion of Borderers, and had again accomplished his return to Ayrshire. There is ground to suspect that Dalrymple knew the nature of the hold which he possessed over Auchindrane, and was desirous of extorting from his fears some better provision than he had found either in Arran or the Netherlands. But if so, it was a fatal experiment to tamper with the fears of such a man as Auchindrane, who determined to rid himself effectually of this unhappy young man. him at ten o'clock at night on the sea-sands near Girvan, and bring with him the unfortunate Dalrymple, the object of his fear and dread. The victim seems to have come with Bannatyne without the least suspicion, though such might have been raised by the time and place appointed for the meeting. When Bannatyne and Dalrymple came to the appointed spot, Auchindrane met them, accompanied by his eldest son, James. Old Auchindrane, having taken Bannatyne aside, imparted his bloody purpose of ridding himself of Dalrymple for ever, by murdering him on the spot. His own life and honour were, he said, endangered by the manner in which this inconvenient witness repeatedly thrust himself back into Ayrshire, and nothing could secure his safety but taking the lad's life, in which action he requested James Bannatyne's assistance. Bannatyne felt some compunction, and remonstrated against the cruel expedient, saying, it would be better to transport Dalrymple to Ireland, and take precautions against his return. While old Auchindrane seemed disposed to listen to this proposal, his son concluded that the time was come for accomplishing the purpose of their meeting, and, without waiting the termination of his father's conference with Bannatyne, he rushed suddenly on Dalrymple, beat him to the ground, and, kneeling down on him, with his father's assistance accomplished the crime, by strangling the unhappy object of their fear and jealousy. Bannatyne, the witness, and partly the accomplice, of the murder, assisted them in their attempt to make a hole in the sand with a spade which they had brought on purpose, in order to conceal the dead body. But as the tide was coming in, the holes which they made filled with water before they could get the body buried, and the ground seemed, to their terrified consciences, to refuse to be accessory to concealing their crime. Despairing of hiding the corpse in the manner they proposed, the murderers carried it out into the sea as deep as they dared wade, and there abandoned it to the billows, trusting that a wind, which was blowing off the shore, would drive these remains of their crime out to sea, where they would never more be heard of. But the sea, as well as the land, seemed unwilling to conceal their cruelty. After floating for some hours, or days, the dead body was, by the wind and tide, again driven on shore, near the very spot where the murder had been committed. This attracted general attention, and when the corpse was known to be that of the same William Dalrymple whom Auchindrane had so often spirited out of the country, or concealed when he was in it, a strong and general suspicion arose, that this young person had met with foul play from the bold bad man who had shown himself so much interested in his absence. It was always said, or supposed, that the dead body had bled at the approach of a grandchild of Mure of Auchindrane, a girl who, from curiosity, had come to look at a sight which others crowded to see. The bleeding of a murdered corpse at the touch of the murderer, was a thing at that time so much believed, that it was admitted as a proof of the phenomenon was supposed to be extended to the approach Mure now lodged him in a house of his own, called Cha-guilt; but I know no case, save that of Auchindrane, in which peldonan, tenanted by a vassal and connexion of his called "The following is a correct copy of the Bond granted by the Earl :-'We, Johne, Earle of Cassilis, Lord Kennedy, etc., bindis and oblissis ws, that howsovne our broder, flew Kennedy of Brounstoun, with his complices, taikis the Laird of Auchindraneis lyf, that we sall mak guid and thankfull payment to him and thame, of the sowme of tuelff hundred merkis, togidder with corne to sex horsis, ay and quhill we ressaw thame in boushald with our self: Beginning the first payment immediatlie efter thair commit ting of the said deid. Attour, 3 howsovne we ressaw thame in houshald, we sall pay to the twa serwing gentilmen the fels, yefrlie, as our awin houshald serwandis. And heirto we obitss ws, vpoun our honour. Subscryvit with our band, at Maybole, the ferd day of September, 1602. JOUNE ERLE OFF CASSILIS."" PITCAIRN's Criminal Trials of Scotland, vol. iii. p. 622. } 3 Morcover. |