Hatteraick had not been long in this place of confinement before
Glossin arrived at the same prison-house. In respect to his
comparative rank and education, he was not ironed, but placed in a
decent apartment, under the inspection of Mac-Guffog, who, since
the destruction of the bridewell of Portanferry by the mob, had
acted here as an under-turnkey. When Glossin was enclosed within
this room, and had solitude and leisure to calculate all the
chances against him and in his favour, he could not prevail upon
himself to consider the game as desperate.

'The estate is lost,' he said, 'that must go; and, between
Pleydell and Mac-Morlan, they'll cut down my claim on it to a
trifle. My character--but if I get off with life and liberty I'll
win money yet and varnish that over again. I knew not of the
gauger's job until the rascal had done the deed, and, though I had
some advantage by the contraband, that is no felony. But the
kidnapping of the boy--there they touch me closer. Let me see.
This Bertram was a child at the time; his evidence must be
imperfect. The other fellow is a deserter, a gipsy, and an outlaw.
Meg Merrilies, d-n her, is dead. These infernal bills! Hatteraick
brought them with him, I suppose, to have the means of threatening
me or extorting money from me. I must endeavour to see the rascal;
must get him to stand steady; must persuade him to put some other
colour upon the business.'

His mind teeming with schemes of future deceit to cover former
villainy, he spent the time in arranging and combining them until
the hour of supper. Mac-Guffog attended as turnkey on this
occasion. He was, as we know, the old and special acquaintance of
the prisoner who was now under his charge. After giving the
turnkey a glass of brandy, and sounding him with one or two
cajoling speeches, Glossin made it his request that he would help
him to an interview with Dirk Hatteraick. 'Impossible! utterly
impossible! it's contrary to the express orders of Mr. Mac-Morlan,
and the captain (as the head jailor of a county jail is called in
Scotland) would never forgie me.'

'But why should he know of it?' said Glossin, slipping a couple of
guineas into Mac-Guffog's hand.

The turnkey weighed the gold and looked sharp at Glossin. 'Ay, ay,
Mr. Glossin, ye ken the ways o' this place. Lookee, at lock-up
hour I'll return and bring ye upstairs to him. But ye must stay a'
night in his cell, for I am under needcessity to carry the keys to
the captain for the night, and I cannot let you out again until
morning; then I'll visit the wards half an hour earlier than
usual, and ye may get out and be snug in your ain birth when the
captain gangs his rounds.'

When the hour of ten had pealed from the neighbouring steeple Mac-
Guffog came prepared with a small dark lantern. He said softly to
Glossin, 'Slip your shoes off and follow me.' When Glossin was out
of the door, Mac-Guffog, as if in the execution of his ordinary
duty, and speaking to a prisoner within, called aloud, 'Good-night
to you, sir,' and locked the door, clattering the bolts with much
ostentatious noise. He then guided Glossin up a steep and narrow
stair, at the top of which was the door of the condemned ward; he
unbarred and unlocked it, and, giving Glossin the lantern, made a
sign to him to enter, and locked the door behind him with the same
affected accuracy.

In the large dark cell into which he was thus introduced Glossin's
feeble light for some time enabled him to discover nothing. At
length he could dimly distinguish the pallet-bed stretched on the
floor beside the great iron bar which traversed the room, and on
that pallet reposed the figure of a man. Glossin approached him.
'Dirk Hatteraick!'

'Donner and hagel! it is his voice,' said the prisoner, sitting up
and clashing his fetters as he rose; 'then my dream is true!
Begone, and leave me to myself; it will be your best.'

'What! my good friend,' said Glossin, 'will you allow the prospect
of a few weeks' confinement to depress your spirit?'

'Yes,' answered the ruffian, sullenly, 'when I am only to be
released by a halter! Let me alone; go about your business, and
turn the lamp from my face!'

'Psha! my dear Dirk, don't be afraid,' said Glossin; 'I have a
glorious plan to make all right.'

'To the bottomless pit with your plans!' replied his accomplice;
'you have planned me out of ship, cargo, and life; and I dreamt
this moment that Meg Merrilies dragged you here by the hair and
gave me the long clasped knife she used to wear; you don't know
what she said. Sturmwetter! it will be your wisdom not to tempt
me!'

'But, Hatteraick, my good friend, do but rise and speak to me,'
said Glossin.

'I will not!' answered the savage, doggedly. 'You have caused all
the mischief; you would not let Meg keep the boy; she would have
returned him after he had forgot all.'

'Why, Hatteraick, you are turned driveller!'

'Wetter! will you deny that all that cursed attempt at
Portanferry, which lost both sloop and crew, was your device for
your own job?'

'But the goods, you know--'

'Curse the goods!' said the smuggler, 'we could have got plenty
more; but, der deyvil! to lose the ship and the fine fellows, and
my own life, for a cursed coward villain, that always works his
own mischief with other people's hands! Speak to me no more; I'm
dangerous.'

'But, Dirk--but, Hatteraick, hear me only a few words.'

'Hagel! nein.'

'Only one sentence.'

'Tousand curses! nein.'

'At least get up, for an obstinate Dutch brute!' said Glossin,
losing his temper and pushing Hatteraick with his foot.

'Donner and blitzen!' said Hatteraick, springing up and grappling
with him; 'you WILL have it then?'

Glossin struggled and resisted; but, owing to his surprise at the
fury of the assault, so ineffectually that he fell under
Hatteraick, the back part of his neck coming full upon the iron
bar with stunning violence. The death-grapple continued. The room
immediately below the condemned ward, being that of Glossin, was,
of course, empty; but the inmates of the second apartment beneath
felt the shock of Glossin's heavy fall, and heard a noise as of
struggling and of groans. But all sounds of horror were too
congenial to this place to excite much curiosity or interest.

In the morning, faithful to his promise, Mac-Guffog came. 'Mr.
Glossin,' said he, in a whispering voice.

'Call louder,' answered Dirk Hatteraick.

'Mr. Glossin, for God's sake come away!'

'He'll hardly do that without help,' said Hatteraick.

'What are you chattering there for, Mac-Guffog?' called out the
captain from below.

'Come away, for God's sake, Mr. Glossin!' repeated the turnkey.

At this moment the jailor made his appearance with a light. Great
was his surprise, and even horror, to observe Glossin's body lying
doubled across the iron bar, in a posture that excluded all idea
of his being alive. Hatteraick was quietly stretched upon his
pallet within a yard of his victim. On lifting Glossin it was
found he had been dead for some hours. His body bore uncommon
marks of violence. The spine where it joins the skull had received
severe injury by his first fall. There were distinct marks of
strangulation about the throat, which corresponded with the
blackened state of his face. The head was turned backward over the
shoulder, as if the neck had been wrung round with desperate
violence. So that it would seem that his inveterate antagonist had
fixed a fatal gripe upon the wretch's throat, and never quitted it
while life lasted. The lantern, crushed and broken to pieces, lay
beneath the body.

Mac-Morlan was in the town, and came instantly to examine the
corpse. 'What brought Glossin here?' he said to Hatteraick.

'The devil!' answered the ruffian.

'And what did you do to him?'

'Sent him to hell before me!' replied the miscreant.

'Wretch,' said Mac-Morlan, 'you have crowned a life spent without
a single virtue with the murder of your own miserable accomplice!'

'Virtue?' exclaimed the prisoner. 'Donner! I was always faithful
to my shipowners--always accounted for cargo to the last stiver.
Hark ye! let me have pen and ink and I'll write an account of the
whole to our house, and leave me alone a couple of hours, will ye;
and let them take away that piece of carrion, donnerwetter!'

Mac-Morlan deemed it the best way to humour the savage; he was
furnished with writing materials and left alone. When they again
opened the door it was found that this determined villain had
anticipated justice. He had adjusted a cord taken from the
truckle-bed, and attached it to a bone, the relic of his
yesterday's dinner, which he had contrived to drive into a crevice
between two stones in the wall at a height as great as he could
reach, standing upon the bar. Having fastened the noose, he had
the resolution to drop his body as if to fall on his knees, and to
retain that posture until resolution was no longer necessary. The
letter he had written to his owners, though chiefly upon the
business of their trade, contained many allusions to the younker
of Ellangowan, as he called him, and afforded absolute
confirmation of all Meg Merrilies and her nephew had told.

To dismiss the catastrophe of these two wretched men, I shall only
add, that Mac-Guffog was turned out of office, notwithstanding his
declaration (which he offered to attest by oath), that he had
locked Glossin safely in his own room upon the night preceding his
being found dead in Dirk Hatteraick's cell. His story, however,
found faith with the worthy Mr. Skriegh and other lovers of the
marvellous, who still hold that the Enemy of Mankind brought these
two wretches together upon that night by supernatural
interference, that they might fill up the cup of their guilt and
receive its meed by murder and suicide.



CHAPTER LVIII

     To sum the whole--the close of all.

          DEAN SWIFT.


As Glossin died without heirs, and without payment of the price,
the estate of Ellangowan was again thrown upon the hands of Mr.
Godfrey Bertram's creditors, the right of most of whom was,
however, defeasible in case Henry Bertram should establish his
character of heir of entail. This young gentleman put his affairs
into the hands of Mr. Pleydell and Mr. Mac-Morlan, with one single
proviso, that, though he himself should be obliged again to go to
India, every debt justly and honourably due by his father should
be made good to the claimant. Mannering, who heard this
declaration, grasped him kindly by the hand, and from that moment
might be dated a thorough understanding between them.

The hoards of Miss Margaret Bertram, and the liberal assistance of
the Colonel, easily enabled the heir to make provision for payment
of the just creditors of his father, while the ingenuity and
research of his law friends detected, especially in the accounts
of Glossin, so many overcharges as greatly diminished the total
amount. In these circumstances the creditors did not hesitate to
recognise Bertram's right, and to surrender to him the house and
property of his ancestors. All the party repaired from Woodbourne
to take possession, amid the shouts of the tenantry and the
neighbourhood; and so eager was Colonel Mannering to superintend
certain improvements which he had recommended to Bertram, that he
removed with his family from Woodbourne to Ellangowan, although at
present containing much less and much inferior accommodation.

The poor Dominie's brain was almost turned with joy on returning
to his old habitation. He posted upstairs, taking three steps at
once, to a little shabby attic, his cell and dormitory in former
days, and which the possession of his much superior apartment at
Woodbourne had never banished from his memory. Here one sad
thought suddenly struck the honest man--the books! no three rooms
in Ellangowan were capable to contain them. While this qualifying
reflection was passing through his mind, he was suddenly summoned
by Mannering to assist in calculating some proportions relating to
a large and splendid house which was to be built on the site of
the New Place of Ellangowan, in a style corresponding to the
magnificence of the ruins in its vicinity. Among the various rooms
in the plan, the Dominie observed that one of the largest was
entitled THE LIBRARY; and close beside was a snug, well-
proportioned chamber, entitled Mr. SAMPSON'S APARTMENT.
'Prodigious, prodigious, pro-di-gi-ous!' shouted the enraptured
Dominie.

Mr. Pleydell had left the party for some time; but he returned,
according to promise, during the Christmas recess of the courts.
He drove up to Ellangowan when all the family were abroad but the
Colonel, who was busy with plans of buildings and pleasure-
grounds, in which he was well skilled, and took great delight.

'Ah ha!' said the Counsellor, 'so here you are! Where are the
ladies? where is the fair Julia?'

'Walking out with young Hazlewood, Bertram, and Captain Delaserre,
a friend of his, who is with us just now. They are gone to plan
out a cottage at Derncleugh. Well, have you carried through your
law business?'

'With a wet finger,' answered the lawyer; 'got our youngster's
special service retoured into Chancery. We had him served heir
before the macers.'

'Macers? who are they?'

'Why, it is a kind of judicial Saturnalia. You must know, that one
of the requisites to be a macer, or officer in attendance upon our
supreme court, is, that they shall be men of no knowledge.'

'Very well!'

'Now, our Scottish legislature, for the joke's sake I suppose,
have constituted those men of no knowledge into a peculiar court
for trying questions of relationship and descent, such as this
business of Bertram, which often involve the most nice and
complicated questions of evidence.'

'The devil they have! I should think that rather inconvenient,'
said Mannering.

'O, we have a practical remedy for the theoretical absurdity. One
or two of the judges act upon such occasions as prompters and
assessors to their own doorkeepers. But you know what Cujacius
says, "Multa sunt in moribus dissentanea, multa sine ratione."
[Footnote: The singular inconsistency hinted at is now, in a great
degree, removed.] However, this Saturnalian court has done our
business; and a glorious batch of claret we had afterwards at
Walker's. Mac-Morlan will stare when he sees the bill.'

'Never fear,' said the Colonel, 'we'll face the shock, and
entertain the county at my friend Mrs. Mac-Candlish's to boot.'

'And choose Jock Jabos for your master of horse?' replied the
lawyer.

'Perhaps I may.'

'And where is Dandie, the redoubted Lord of Liddesdale?' demanded
the advocate.

'Returned to his mountains; but he has promised Julia to make a
descent in summer, with the goodwife, as he calls her, and I don't
know how many children.'

'O, the curly-headed varlets! I must come to play at Blind Harry
and Hy Spy with them. But what is all this?' added Pleydell,
taking up the plans. 'Tower in the centre to be an imitation of
the Eagle Tower at Caernarvon--corps de logis--the devil! Wings--
wings! Why, the house will take the estate of Ellangowan on its
back and fly away with it!'

'Why, then, we must ballast it with a few bags of sicca rupees,'
replied the Colonel.

'Aha! sits the wind there? Then I suppose the young dog carries
off my mistress Julia?'

'Even so, Counsellor.'

'These rascals, the post-nati, get the better of us of the old
school at every turn,' said Mr. Pleydell. 'But she must convey and
make over her interest in me to Lucy.'

'To tell you the truth, I am afraid your flank will be turned
there too,' replied the Colonel.

'Indeed?'

'Here has been Sir Robert Hazlewood,' said Mannering, 'upon a
visit to Bertram, thinking and deeming and opining--'

'O Lord! pray spare me the worthy Baronet's triads!'

'Well, sir,' continued Mannering, 'to make short, he conceived
that, as the property of Singleside lay like a wedge between two
farms of his, and was four or five miles separated from
Ellangowan, something like a sale or exchange or arrangement might
take place, to the mutual convenience of both parties.'

'Well, and Bertram--'

'Why, Bertram replied, that he considered the original settlement
of Mrs. Margaret Bertram as the arrangement most proper in the
circumstances of the family, and that therefore the estate of
Singleside was the property of his sister.'

'The rascal!' said Pleydell, wiping his spectacles. 'He'll steal
my heart as well as my mistress. Et puis?'

'And then Sir Robert retired, after many gracious speeches; but
last week he again took the field in force, with his coach and six
horses, his laced scarlet waistcoat, and best bob-wig--all very
grand, as the good-boy books say.'

'Ay! and what was his overture?'

'Why, he talked with great form of an attachment on the part of
Charles Hazlewood to Miss Bertram.'

'Ay, ay; he respected the little god Cupid when he saw him perched
on the Dun of Singleside. And is poor Lucy to keep house with that
old fool and his wife, who is just the knight himself in
petticoats?'

'No; we parried that. Singleside House is to be repaired for the
young people, and to be called hereafter Mount Hazlewood.'

'And do you yourself, Colonel, propose to continue at Woodbourne?'

'Only till we carry these plans into effect. See, here's the plan
of my bungalow, with all convenience for being separate and sulky
when I please.'

'And, being situated, as I see, next door to the old castle, you
may repair Donagild's tower for the nocturnal contemplation of the
celestial bodies? Bravo, Colonel!'

'No, no, my dear Counsellor! Here ends THE ASTROLOGER.'


END OF VOLUME II


THE END









NOTES TO VOLUME I

NOTE 1, p. 25

The groaning malt mentioned in the text was the ale brewed for the
purpose of being drunk after the lady or goodwife's safe delivery.
The ken-no has a more ancient source, and perhaps the custom may
be derived from the secret rites of the Bona Dea. A large and rich
cheese was made by the women of the family, with great affectation
of secrecy, for the refreshment of the gossips who were to attend
at the 'canny' minute. This was the ken-no, so called because its
existence was secret (that is, presumed to be so) from all the
males of the family, but especially from the husband and master.
He was accordingly expected to conduct himself as if he knew of no
such preparation, to act as if desirous to press the female guests
to refreshments, and to seem surprised at their obstinate refusal.
But the instant his back was turned the ken-no was produced; and
after all had eaten their fill, with a proper accompaniment of the
groaning malt, the remainder was divided among the gossips, each
carrying a large portion home with the same affectation of great
secrecy.

NOTE 2, p. 198

It is fitting to explain to the reader the locality described in
chapter xxii. There is, or rather I should say there WAS, a little
inn called Mumps's Hall, that is, being interpreted, Beggar's
Hotel, near to Gilsland, which had not then attained its present
fame as a Spa. It was a hedge alehouse, where the Border farmers
of either country often stopped to refresh themselves and their
nags, in their way to and from the fairs and trysts in Cumberland,
and especially those who came from or went to Scotland, through a
barren and lonely district, without either road or pathway,
emphatically called the Waste of Bewcastle. At the period when the
adventures described in the novel are supposed to have taken
place, there were many instances of attacks by freebooters on
those who travelled through this wild district, and Mumps's Ha'
had a bad reputation for harbouring the banditti who committed
such depredations.

An old and sturdy yeoman belonging to the Scottish side, by
surname an Armstrong or Elliot, but well known by his soubriquet
of Fighting Charlie of Liddesdale, and still remembered for the
courage he displayed in the frequent frays which took place on the
Border fifty or sixty years since, had the following adventure in
the Waste, which suggested the idea of the scene in the text:--

Charlie had been at Stagshawbank Fair, had sold his sheep or
cattle, or whatever he had brought to market, and was on his
return to Liddesdale. There were then no country banks where cash
could be deposited and bills received instead, which greatly
encouraged robbery in that wild country, as the objects of plunder
were usually fraught with gold. The robbers had spies in the fair,
by means of whom they generally knew whose purse was best stocked,
and who took a lonely and desolate road homeward,--those, in
short, who were best worth robbing and likely to be most easily
robbed.

All this Charlie knew full well; but he had a pair of excellent
pistols and a dauntless heart. He stopped at Mumps's Ha',
notwithstanding the evil character of the place. His horse was
accommodated where it might have the necessary rest and feed of
corn; and Charlie himself, a dashing fellow, grew gracious with
the landlady, a buxom quean, who used all the influence in her
power to induce him to stop all night. The landlord was from home,
she said, and it was ill passing the Waste, as twilight must needs
descend on him before he gained the Scottish side, which was
reckoned the safest. But Fighting Charlie, though he suffered
himself to be detained later than was prudent, did not account
Mumps's Ha' a safe place to quarter in during the night. He tore
himself away, therefore, from Meg's good fare and kind words, and
mounted his nag, having first examined his pistols, and tried by
the ramrod whether the charge remained in them.

He proceeded a mile or two at a round trot, when, as the Waste
stretched black before him, apprehensions began to awaken in his
mind, partly arising out of Meg's unusual kindness, which he could
not help thinking had rather a suspicious appearance. He therefore
resolved to reload his pistols, lest the powder had become damp;
but what was his surprise, when he drew the charge, to find
neither powder nor ball, while each barrel had been carefully
filled with TOW, up to the space which the loading had occupied!
and, the priming of the weapons being left untouched, nothing but
actually drawing and examining the charge could have discovered
the inefficiency of his arms till the fatal minute arrived when
their services were required. Charlie bestowed a hearty Liddesdale
curse on his landlady, and reloaded his pistols with care and
accuracy, having now no doubt that he was to be waylaid and
assaulted. He was not far engaged in the Waste, which was then,
and is now, traversed only by such routes as are described in the
text, when two or three fellows, disguised and variously armed,
started from a moss-hag, while by a glance behind him (for,
marching, as the Spaniard says, with his beard on his shoulder, he
reconnoitred in every direction) Charlie instantly saw retreat was
impossible, as other two stout men appeared behind him at some
distance. The Borderer lost not a moment in taking his resolution,
and boldly trotted against his enemies in front, who called loudly
on him to stand and deliver; Charlie spurred on, and presented his
pistol. 'D--n your pistol,' said the foremost robber, whom Charlie
to his dying day protested he believed to have been the landlord
of Mumps's Ha','d--n your pistol! I care not a curse for it.' 'Ay,
lad,' said the deep voice of Fighting Charlie, 'but the TOW'S out
now.' He had no occasion to utter another word; the rogues,
surprised at finding a man of redoubted courage well armed,
instead of being defenceless, took to the moss in every direction,
and he passed on his way without farther molestation.

The author has heard this story told by persons who received it
from Fighting Charlie himself; he has also heard that Mumps's Ha'
was afterwards the scene of some other atrocious villainy, for
which the people of the house suffered. But these are all tales of
at least half a century old, and the Waste has been for many years
as safe as any place in the kingdom.

NOTE 3, p. 213

The author may here remark that the character of Dandie Dinmont
was drawn from no individual. A dozen, at least, of stout
Liddesdale yeomen with whom he has been acquainted, and whose
hospitality he has shared in his rambles through that wild
country, at a time when it was totally inaccessible save in the
manner described in the text, might lay claim to be the prototype
of the rough, but faithful, hospitable, and generous farmer. But
one circumstance occasioned the name to be fixed upon a most
respectable individual of this class, now no more. Mr. James
Davidson of Hindlee, a tenant of Lord Douglas, besides the points
of blunt honesty, personal strength, and hardihood designed to be
expressed in the character of Dandie Dinmont, had the humour of
naming a celebrated race of terriers which he possessed by the
generic names of Mustard and Pepper (according as their colour was
yellow or greyish-black), without any other individual distinction
except as according to the nomenclature in the text. Mr. Davidson
resided at Hindlee, a wild farm on the very edge of the Teviotdale
mountains, and bordering close on Liddesdale, where the rivers and
brooks divide as they take their course to the Eastern and Western
seas. His passion for the chase in all its forms, but especially
for fox-hunting, as followed in the fashion described in chapter
xxv, in conducting which he was skilful beyond most men in the
South Highlands, was the distinguishing point in his character.

When the tale on which these comments are written became rather
popular, the name of Dandie Dinmont was generally given to him,
which Mr. Davidson received with great good-humour, only saying,
while he distinguished the author by the name applied to him in
the country, where his own is so common--'that the Sheriff had not
written about him mair than about other folk, but only about his
dogs.' An English lady of high rank and fashion, being desirous to
possess a brace of the celebrated Mustard and Pepper terriers,
expressed her wishes in a letter which was literally addressed to
Dandie Dinmont, under which very general direction it reached Mr.
Davidson, who was justly proud of the application, and failed not
to comply with a request which did him and his favourite
attendants so much honour.

I trust I shall not be considered as offending the memory of a
kind and worthy man, if I mention a little trait of character
which occurred in Mr. Davidson's last illness. I use the words of
the excellent clergyman who attended him, who gave the account to
a reverend gentleman of the same persuasion:--

'I read to Mr. Davidson the very suitable and interesting truths
you addressed to him. He listened to them with great seriousness,
and has uniformly displayed a deep concern about his soul's
salvation. He died on the first Sabbath of the year (1820); an
apoplectic stroke deprived him in an instant of all sensation, but
happily his brother was at his bedside, for he had detained him
from the meeting-house that day to be near him, although he felt
himself not much worse than usual. So you have got the last little
Mustard that the hand of Dandie Dinmont bestowed.

'His ruling passion was strong even on the eve of death. Mr.
Baillie's fox-hounds had started a fox opposite to his window a
few weeks ago, and as soon as he heard the sound of the dogs his
eyes glistened; he insisted on getting out of bed, and with much
difficulty got to the window and there enjoyed the fun, as he
called it. When I came down to ask for him, he said, "he had seen
Reynard, but had not seen his death. If it had been the will of
Providence," he added, "I would have liked to have been after him;
but I am glad that I got to the window, and am thankful for what I
saw, for it has done me a great deal of good." Notwithstanding
these eccentricities (adds the sensible and liberal clergyman), I
sincerely hope and believe he has gone to a better world, and
better company and enjoyments.'

If some part of this little narrative may excite a smile, it is
one which is consistent with the most perfect respect for the
simple-minded invalid and his kind and judicious religious
instructor, who, we hope, will not be displeased with our giving,
we trust, a correct edition of an anecdote which has been pretty
generally circulated. The race of Pepper and Mustard are in the
highest estimation at this day, not only for vermin-killing, but
for intelligence and fidelity. Those who, like the author, possess
a brace of them, consider them as very desirable companions.

NOTE 4, p. 232

The cleek here intimated is the iron hook, or hooks, depending
from the chimney of a Scottish cottage, on which the pot is
suspended when boiling. The same appendage is often called the
crook. The salmon is usually dried by hanging it up, after being
split and rubbed with salt, in the smoke of the turf fire above
the cleeks, where it is said to 'reist,' that preparation being so
termed. The salmon thus preserved is eaten as a delicacy, under
the name of kipper, a luxury to which Dr. Redgill has given his
sanction as an ingredient of the Scottish breakfast.--See the
excellent novel entitled MARRIAGE.

NOTE 5, p. 234

The distinction of individuals by nicknames when they possess no
property is still common on the Border, and indeed necessary, from
the number of persons having the same name. In the small village
of Lustruther, in Roxburghshire, there dwelt, in the memory of
man, four inhabitants called Andrew, or Dandie, Oliver. They were
distinguished as Dandie Eassil-gate, Dandie Wassilgate, Dandie
Thumbie, and Dandie Dumbie. The two first had their names from
living eastward and westward in the street of the village; the
third from something peculiar in the conformation of his thumb;
the fourth from his taciturn habits.

It is told as a well-known jest, that a beggar woman, repulsed
from door to door as she solicited quarters through a village of
Annandale, asked, in her despair, if there were no Christians in
the place. To which the hearers, concluding that she inquired for
some persons so surnamed, answered, 'Na, na, there are nae
Christians here; we are a' Johnstones and Jardines.'

NOTE 6, p. 244

The mysterious rites in which Meg Merrilies is described as
engaging belong to her character as a queen of her race. All know
that gipsies in every country claim acquaintance with the gift of
fortune-telling; but, as is often the case, they are liable to the
superstitions of which they avail themselves in others. The
correspondent of Blackwood, quoted in the Introduction to this
Tale, gives us some information on the subject of their credulity.

'I have ever understood,' he says, speaking of the Yetholm
gipsies,' that they are extremely superstitious, carefully
noticing the formation of the clouds, the flight of particular
birds, and the soughing of the winds, before attempting any
enterprise. They have been known for several successive days to
turn back with their loaded carts, asses, and children, upon
meeting with persons whom they considered of unlucky aspect; nor
do they ever proceed on their summer peregrinations without some
propitious omen of their fortunate return. They also burn the
clothes of their dead, not so much from any apprehension of
infection being communicated by them, as the conviction that the
very circumstance of wearing them would shorten the days of their
living. They likewise carefully watch the corpse by night and day
till the time of interment, and conceive that "the deil tinkles at
the lyke-wake" of those who felt in their dead-thraw the agonies
and terrors of remorse.'

These notions are not peculiar to the gipsies; but, having been
once generally entertained among the Scottish common people, are
now only found among those who are the most rude in their habits
and most devoid of instruction. The popular idea, that the
protracted struggle between life and death is painfully prolonged
by keeping the door of the apartment shut, was received as certain
by the superstitious eld of Scotland. But neither was it to be
thrown wide open. To leave the door ajar was the plan adopted by
the old crones who understood the mysteries of deathbeds and
lykewakes. In that case there was room for the imprisoned
spirit to escape; and yet an obstacle, we have been assured, was
offered to the entrance of any frightful form which might
otherwise intrude itself. The threshold of a habitation was in
some sort a sacred limit, and the subject of much superstition. A
bride, even to this day, is always lifted over it, a rule derived
apparently from the Romans.





NOTES TO VOLUME 2

NOTE 1, p. 93

The roads of Liddesdale, in Dandie Dinmont's days, could not be
said to exist, and the district was only accessible through a
succession of tremendous morasses. About thirty years ago the
author himself was the first person who ever drove a little open
carriage into these wilds, the excellent roads by which they are
now traversed being then in some progress. The people stared with
no small wonder at a sight which many of them had never witnessed
in their lives before.


NOTE 2, p. 102

The Tappit Hen contained three quarts of claret--

     Weel she loed a Hawick gill,
       And leugh to see a tappit hen.

I have seen one of these formidable stoups at Provost Haswell's,
at Jedburgh, in the days of yore It was a pewter measure, the
claret being in ancient days served from the tap, and had the
figure of a hen upon the lid. In later times the name was given to
a glass bottle of the same dimensions. These are rare apparitions
among the degenerate topers of modern days.


NOTE 3, p. 102

The account given by Mr. Pleydell of his sitting down in the midst
of a revel to draw an appeal case was taken from a story told me
by an aged gentleman of the elder President Dundas of Amiston
(father of the younger President and of Lord Melville). It had
been thought very desirable, while that distinguished lawyer was
king's counsel, that his assistance should be obtained in drawing
an appeal case, which, as occasion for such writings then rarely
occurred, was held to be matter of great nicety. The solicitor
employed for the appellant, attended by my informant acting as his
clerk, went to the Lord Advocate's chambers in the Fishmarket
Close, as I think. It was Saturday at noon, the Court was just
dismissed, the Lord Advocate had changed his dress and booted
himself, and his servant and horses were at the foot of the close
to carry him to Arniston. It was scarcely possible to get him to
listen to a word respecting business. The wily agent, however, on
pretence of asking one or two questions, which would not detain
him half an hour, drew his Lordship, who was no less an eminent
ban vivant than a lawyer of unequalled talent, to take a whet at a
celebrated tavern, when the learned counsel became gradually
involved in a spirited discussion of the law points of the case.
At length it occurred to him that he might as well ride to
Arniston in the cool of the evening. The horses were directed to
be put in the stable, but not to be unsaddled. Dinner was ordered,
the law was laid aside for a time, and the bottle circulated very
freely. At nine o'clock at night, after he had been honouring
Bacchus for so many hours, the Lord Advocate ordered his horses to
be unsaddled; paper, pen, and ink were brought; he began to
dictate the appeal case, and continued at his task till four
o'clock the next morning. By next day's post the solicitor sent
the case to London, a chef-d'oeuvre of its kind; and in which, my
informant assured me, it was not necessary on revisal to correct
five words. I am not, therefore, conscious of having overstepped
accuracy in describing the manner in which Scottish lawyers of the
old time occasionally united the worship of Bacchus with that of
Themis. My informant was Alexander Keith, Esq., grandfather to my
friend, the present Sir Alexander Keith of Ravelstone, and
apprentice at the time to the writer who conducted the cause.


NOTE 4, p. 180

We must again have recourse to the contribution to Blackwood's
Magazine, April 1817:--

'To the admirers of good eating, gipsy cookery seems to have
little to recommend it. I can assure you, however, that the cook
of a nobleman of high distinction, a person who never reads even a
novel without an eye to the enlargement of the culinary science,
has added to the "Almanach des Gourmands" a certain Potage a la
Meg Merrilies de Derndeugh, consisting of game and poultry of all
kinds, stewed with vegetables into a soup, which rivals in savour
and richness the gallant messes of Camacho's wedding; and which
the Baron of Bradwardine would certainly have reckoned among the
epulae lautiores.'

The artist alluded to in this passage is Mons. Florence, cook to
Henry and Charles, late Dukes of Buccleuch, and of high
distinction in his profession.


NOTE 5, p. 212

The Burnet whose taste for the evening meal of the ancients is
quoted by Mr. Pleydellwas the celebrated metaphysician and
excellent man, Lord Monboddo, whose coenae will not be soon
forgotten by those who have shared his classic hospitality. As a
Scottish judge he took the designation of his family estate. His
philosophy, as is well known, was of a fanciful and somewhat
fantastic character; but his learning was deep, and he was
possessed of a singular power of eloquence, which reminded the
hearer of the os rotundum of the Grove or Academe.
Enthusiastically partial to classical habits, his entertainments
were always given in the evening, when there was a circulation of
excellent Bourdeaux, in flasks garlanded with roses, which were
also strewed on the table after the manner of Horace. The best
society, whether in respect of rank or literary distinction, was
always to be found in St. John's Street, Canongate. The
conversation of the excellent old man, his high, gentleman-like,
chivalrous spirit, the learning and wit with which he defended his
fanciful paradoxes, the kind and liberal spirit of his
hospitality, must render these noctes coenaeque dear to all who,
like the author (though then young), had the honour of sitting at
his board.


NOTE 6, p. 215

It is probably true, as observed by Counsellor Pleydell, that a
lawyer's anxiety about his case, supposing him to have been some
time in practice, will seldom disturb his rest or digestion.
Clients will, however, sometimes fondly entertain a different
opinion. I was told by an excellent judge, now no more, of a
country gentleman who, addressing his leading counsel, my
informer, then an advocate in great practice, on the morning of
the day on which the case was to be pleaded, said, with singular
bonhomie, 'Weel, my Lord (the counsel was Lord Advocate), the
awful day is come at last. I have nae been able to sleep a wink
for thinking of it; nor, I daresay, your Lordship either.'


NOTE 7, p. 235

Whistling, among the tenantry of a large estate, is when an
individual gives such information to the proprietor or his
managers as to occasion the rent of his neighbour's farms being
raised, which, for obvious reasons, is held a very unpopular
practice.


NOTE 8, p. 286

This hard word is placed in the mouth of one of the aged tenants.
In the old feudal tenures the herezeld constituted the best horse
or other animal on the vassals' lands, become the right of the
superior. The only remnant of this custom is what is called the
sasine, or a fee of certain estimated value, paid to the sheriff
of the county, who gives possession to the vassals of the crown.


NOTE 9, p. 301

This mode of securing prisoners was universally practised in
Scotland after condemnation. When a man received sentence of death
he was put upon THE GAD, as it was called, that is, secured to the
bar of iron in the manner mentioned in the text. The practice
subsisted in Edinburgh till the old jail was taken down some years
since, and perhaps may be still in use.



GLOSSARY

'A, he, I.
 a', all.
 abide, endure.
 ablins, aiblins, perhaps.
 abune, above.
 ae, one.
 aff, off.
 afore, before.
 a-guisarding, masquerading.
 ahint, behind.
 aik, an oak.
 ails, hinders, prevents.
 ain, own.
 amang, among.
 an, if.
 ance, once.
 ane, one.
 anent, about.
 aneuch, enough.
 auld, old.
 auld threep, a superstitious notion.
 avise, advise, deliberate.
 awa', away.
 aweel, well.
 awfu', awful.
 awmous, alms.
 aye, ever.

 bairn, a child.
 baith, both.
 ballant, a ballad.
 banes, bones.
 bannock, a flat round or oval cake.
 barken, stiffen, dry to a crust.
 barrow-trams, the shafts of a hand  barrow.
 baulks, ridges.
 berling, a galley.
 bield, a shelter, a house.
 biggit, built.
 billie, a brother, a companion.
 bing out and tour, go out and watch.
 binna, be not.
 birk, a birch tree.
 bit, a little.
 bittle, beat with a bat.
 bittock, a little bit.
 Black Peter, a portmanteau.
 blate, shy, bashful.
 blawn, blown.
 blear, obscure.
 blude, bluid, blood.
 blunker, a cloth printer.
 blythe, glad.
 boddle, a copper coin worth one   third of a penny.
 bogle, a goblin, a spectre.
 bonnet, a cap.
 bonnie, bonny, pretty, fine.
 bonspiel, a match game at curling.
 bottle-head, beetle-head, stupid fellow.
 bow, a boll.
 bowster, a bolster.
 braw, fine.
 brigg, a bridge.
 brock, a badger, a dirty fellow.
 brod, a church collection plate.
 buckkar, a smuggling lugger.
 bully-huff, a bully, a braggart.
 burn, a brook.
 bye, besides.

 ca', call.
 cake-house, a house of entertainment.
 callant, a stripling.
 cam, came.
 canny, lucky, cautious.
 cantle, a fragment.
 canty, cheerful.
 capons, castrated cocks.
 carle, a churl, an old man.
 cast, lot, fate.
 chapping-stick, a stick to strike with.
 cheerer, spirits and hot water.
 chield, a young man.
 chumlay, a chimney.
 clanjamfray, rabble.
 clashes, lies, scandal.
 claught, clutched, caught.
 clecking, hatching.
 clodded, threw heavily.
 close, a lane, a narrow passage.
 clour, a heavy blow.
 cloyed a dud, stolen a rag.
 collieshangie, an uproar.
 come o' will, a child of love.
 cottar, cottage.
 cramp-ring, shackles, fetters.
 cranking, creaking.
 craw, crow.
 creel, a basket.
 cuddy, an ass.
 cusp, an entrance to a house.
 cusser, a courser, a stallion.

 daft, mad, foolish.
 darkmans, night.
 daurna, dare not.
 day-dawing, dawn.
 dead-thraw, death-agony.
 death-ruckle, death-rattle.
 deil-be-lickit, nothing, naught.
 dike, a wall, a ditch.
 dinging, slamming.
 dingle, a dell, a hollow.
 dizzen, a dozen.
 doo, a dove.
 dooket, dukit, a dovecot.
 doun, down.
 douse the glim, put out the light.
 dow, list, wish.
 drap, a drop.
 drumming, driving.
 dub, a puddle.
 duds, clothes.

 eassel, provincial for eastward.
 een, eyes.
 endlang, along.
 eneugh, enough.
 evening, putting on the same level.

 faem, foam.
 fair-strae, natural.
 fambles, hands.
 fash, trouble.
 fauld, a fold.
 fause, false.
 feared, afraid.
 fearsome, frightful.
 feck, a quantity.
 feckless, feeble.
 fell, a skin.
 fernseed, gather the, make invisible.
 fie, mad, foredoomed.
 fient a bit, never a bit
 fient a haet, not the least.
 fire-raising, setting fire.
 firlot, a quarter of a boll.
 fit, a foot.
 flesh, fleesh, a fleece.
 flick, cut.
 flit, remove.
 fond, glad to.
 forbears, ancestors.
 forbye, besides.
 foumart, a polecat.
 fowk, people.
 frae, from.
 frummagem'd, throttled, hanged.
 fu', full.
 fule-body, a foolish person.

 gae, go.
 gaed, went.
 gane, gone.
 gang, go.
 gang-there-out, wandering.
 gangrel, vagrant.
 gar, make.
 gate, gait, way.
 gaun, going.
 gay, gey, very.
 gelding, a castrated horse.
 gentle or semple, high born or common people.
 gie, give.
 gliffing, a surprise, an instant.
 glower, glare.
 gowan, a field daisy.
 gowd, gold.
 gowpen, a double handful.
 greet, weep.
 grieve, an overseer.
 grippet, grasped, caught.
 grunds, grounds.
 gude, guid, good.
 gudeman, master of a house.
 gyre-carlings, witches.

 ha', hall.
 hadden, held, gone.
 hae, have.
 hafflin, half grown.
 haick, hack.
 haill, whole.
 hallan, a partition.
 hame, home.
 hank, a skein of yarn.
 hansel, a present.
 hantle, a quantity.
 haud, hauld, hold.
 hauden, held.
 heezie, a lift.
 herds, herders.
 heuch, a crag, a steep bank.
 hinging, hanging.
 hinney, honey.
 hirsel, a flock.
 hizzie, a housewife, a hussy.
 hog, a young sheep.
 horning, a warrant for a debtor.
 houdie, a midwife.
 howm, flat low ground.
 humble-cow, a cow without horns.
 hunds, hounds.

 ilka, every.
 ingans, onions.
 ingleside, fireside.
 I'se, I'll.
 ither, other.

 jaw-hole, a sink.
 Jethart, Jedburgh.
 jo, a sweetheart.

 kahn, a skiff.
 kaim, a low ridge, a comb.
 kain, part of a farm-rent paid in fowls.
 keep, a stronghold.
 keepit, kept, attended.
 ken, know.
 kenna, do not know.
 kibe, an ulcerated chilblain, a chapped heel.
 killogie, the open space before a kiln fire.
 kilt, upset.
 kilting, girding or tucking up.
 kimmer, a female gossip.
 kinder, children.
 kipper, cured salmon.
 kirk, church.
 kist, a chest, a coffin.
 kitchen-mort, kinchen-mort, a girl.
 kittle, tickle, ticklish.
 kitt, a number, the whole.
 knave, a boy.
 knevell, knead, beat severely.
 kobold, a hobgoblin.

 laird, lord of the manor.
 lampit, a limpet.
 landloupers, persons of wandering tendencies.
 lang, long.
 lang or, long before.
 lang-lugged, long-eared.
 langsyne, long ago.
 lap and paunel, liquor and food.
 lassie, a young girl.
 latch, mire.
 leddy, a lady.
 lee, pasture land.
 leg bail, to give, to run away.
 letter-gae, the precentor is called by Allan Ramsay
 'the letter-gae of haly rhyme.'
 leugh, laughed.
 levin, lightning, scorn.
 licks, blows.
 lift, the sky.
 like, as it were.
 limmer, a jade, a hussy.
 links, the windings of a river.
 lippen, trust.
 loan, an open place, a lane.
 loaning, a milking place.
 long bowls, ninepins.
 looby, a booby, a lout.
 loon, a clown, a rogue.
 loup, leap, start.
 low, blaze, flame.
 luckie, an old woman.
 lugs, ears.
 lunt, blaze, torch.
 lykewake, a watch at night over a dead body.

 mair, more.
 mair by token, especially.
 maist, most.
 maun, must.
 meddling and making, interfering.
 messan, a little dog.
 milling in the darkmans, murder by night.
 mind, remember.
 minded, looked after.
 mirk, dark; pit mirk, pitch dark.
 moaned, mourned.
 Monanday, Monday.
 mony, many.
 moonshie, a secretary.
 morn, tomorrow.
 moss, a morass.
 moss-hag, a pit, a slough.
 muckle, great, much.
 muir, a moor, a heath.
 muscavado, unrefined sugar.
 mutchkin, a measure equal to an English pint.

 na, nae, no.
 nane, none.
 nathless, nevertheless.
 needna, need not.
 nice, simple.
 now, the, at once.

 odd-come-shortly, chance time not far in the future.
 ony, any.
 or, ere.
 orra, odd, occasional.
 orra time, occasionally.
 o't, of it.
 out, out in rebellion.
 out of house and hauld, destitute.
 outcast, a falling out, a quarrel.
 ower, over.
 owt, the exterior, out.

 paiks, punishment.
 parritch, oatmeal porridge.
 peat-hag, a bog.
 penny-stane, a stone quoit.
 periapts, amulets.
 pike, pick.
 pinners, a headdress.
 pirn, a reel.
 pit, put.
 plash, splash.
 plough-gate of land, land that can be tilled with one plough.
 pock, a pouch, a bag.
 poinded, impounded.
 poschay, a post-chaise.
 pouches, pockets.
 pow, the head.
 powny, a pony.
 preceese, exact.
 precentor, a leader of congregational singing.
 prin, a pin.
 puir, poor.

 quean, a young woman, a wench.

 rade, rode.
 ramble, a spree.
 rampauging, raging.
 randle-tree, a horizontal bar across a chimney, on which
  pot-hooks are hung; sometimes used as an opprobrious  epithet.
 randy, wild.
 ranging and riping, scouring and searching.
 rape, rope.
 rasp-house, a custom-house.
 red cock craw, kindle a fire.
 redding-straik, a blow received when trying to separate
     combatants.
 reek, smoke.
 reif and wear, robbery and injury.
 reise, a bough.
 reist, smoke.
 reiver, a robber.
 retour, return of a writ.
 rin, run.
 ripe, search.
 rive, rend, rob.
 rotten, rottan, a rat.
 roup, an auction.
 roupit, sold at auction.
 routing, snoring, bellowing.
 rubbit, robbed.
 rump and dozen, meat and drink, a good dinner.
 run goods, smuggled goods.

 sack, sackcloth.
 sae, so.
 saft, soft.
 sain, bless.
 sair, sore.
 sail, shall.
 samyn, the same.
 sang, song.
 sark, a shirt.
 saugh, a willow tree.
 saul, soul.
 saut, salt.
 sax, six.
 scaff-raff, riff raff.
 scart, scratched, written on.
 schnaps, a dram of liquor.
 scones, flat round cakes.
 scouring the cramp-ring, said metaphorically for being
      thrown into fetters or, generally, into prison.
 screed o' drink, a drinking bout.
 sell'd, sold.
 semple, simple, poor people.
 shake-rag, a tatterdemalion.
 shanks, legs.
 shealing, sheiling, a shed, a hut.
 shear, cut.
 sherra, a sheriff.
 shoeing-horn, something that leads to more drinking.
 shoon, shoes.
 shouther, a shoulder.
 sic, so, such.
 siclike, such.
 siller, money.
 sinsyne, since.
 skeel, a bucket, a tub.
 slack, a hollow, a morass.
 slap, a breach.
 sleepery, sleepy.
 slow-hund, a sleuth hound.
 sma', small.
 smack, smaik, a rogue, a low wretch.
 snaw, snow.
 soup o' drink, a spoonful.
 souple, a cudgel.
 spae, foretell.
 speir, ask.
 sprug, a sparrow.
 spunk, a spark.
 start, betray.
 stell, a stall, a covert.
 stickit, stopped, hindered.
 stir your gear, disturb your goods.
 stark, a heifer, a bullock.
 stiver, a small Dutch coin.
 stoppit, stopped.
 stoup, a drinking vessel, a wooden pitcher.
 stown, stolen.
 strae, straw.
 strammel, straw.
 streik, stretch.
 suld, should.
 sune, soon.
 sunkets, delicacies, provisions of any kind.
 sunkie, a low stool.
 swear, difficult.
 swure, swore.
 syne, since.

 ta'en, taken.
 tait, a tuft.
 tak, take.
 tap, the top.
 tass, a cup.
 tat, that.
 tell'd, told.
 tent, care.
 thack, thatch.
 thae, those.
 thegither, together.
 thereawa', thence, thereabout.
 thrapple, the windpipe, the throat.
 thristle, a thistle.
 till, to.
 tippenny, ale at twopence a bottle.
 tod, a fox.
 tolbooth, a jail.
 toom, empty.
 tow, a rope.
 trine to the cheat, get hanged.
 troking, intercourse, trafficking.
 trow, trust.
 tulzie, tuilzie, a scuffle, a brawl.
 twa, two.
 tweel, a web.
 tyke, a cur.