I was born in the year after King James VI. acquired the dominion of England, at my father's tower of Craigrollo, which overlooks the great bay of Cromartie. The youngest of four sons, I was (God knows why) a child of ill-omen from my birth; for, before that event came to pass, my mother had various remarkable dreams, which were darkly and mysteriously construed by certain Highland crones of the district; and the whole family made up their minds to expect that I should never be the source of aught else but discomfort and disgrace to them.
All unconscious of the disagreeable impressions regarding me, I was ushered (poor little devil!) into this world on a Friday, the most ominous day of the week for such an arrival; when a furious storm of wind was rolling the waves of the North Sea against the Sutors of Cromartie; and a tempest of rain was lashing the walls and windows of the old tower, and drenching the older pine-woods that surrounded it. A knife and spade had been placed below my mother's bed, a Bible below her pillow, and the room was plentifully sprinkled with salt, to avert the mal-influence of the fairies, and every way the old fashions of the Highlands were complied with strictly.
My father had been particularly anxious for a daughter, that he might marry her to his nephew, M'Farquhar of that Ilk, to whom he was tutor or guardian; and various wise women, who had been solemnly convened in council before I was born, had all been morally certain that my mother would have a daughter.
"You have long loved French apples," said old Mhona Toshach; "your ladyship is sure to have a daughter."
My sudden appearance upset all their calculations, and none more than those of my father.
"The devil's in the brat!" said he. "There goes the estate of M'Farquhar, with its five hundred broadswords;" for, in our Scottish fashion, he was what we call the tutor of the property.
As if to increase the general prejudice against me, I squalled right lustily, which made all the old crones of the household, and the wise women of the parish, with Mhona Toshach, my mother's nurse, at their head, tremble and predict that, through life, "sore trials and evil would attend the course of the Friday's bairn." All the crickets in the bakehouse disappeared that day for ever, a surer foreboding of dire calamity.
Though we were a branch of a Lowland or Perthshire family, the gallant Rollos of Duncruib, my father, partly to humour my mother, who was a daughter of the race of M'Farquhar, and partly to please his Highland neighbours, resolved to celebrate my arrival in the old country fashion. The old family banner, with its azure chevrons, on which the spiders had been spinning their webs since it had been last unfurled on the birth of my brother Ewen, (for my father was eminently a peaceful man,) was displayed on the old tower; and more than one gallant puncheon of ale, and bombarde of Flemish wine were set abroach in the yard. I was baptized over a broadsword. Then came the solemn and important ceremony of placing in my mouth "the Rollo spoon," which was done in presence of the whole household; and which, from the consternation it occasioned, requires some explanation.
An ancestor of ours, Sir Bingan Rollo of that Ilk, who had accompanied Earl Douglas (afterwards Marshal of France and Duke of Touraine) on his successful invasion of England, in the year of God 1420, when sacking the manor-house of a certain English squire, found therein a silver spoon of great size and curious workmanship, which he brought home with him to Cromartie, leaving in place thereof his right eye, which he lost by an English arrow in the assault. This spoon, doubtless the palladium of a long race of well-fed Saxons, became the heirloom of the house of Rollo, on which it produced a very remarkable effect—not unlike that which Rigord tells us the loss of the true cross at Tiberiade, had upon all children born afterwards in Christendom—for instead of thirty teeth they had but twenty. So all the future Rollos of the Craig, came in time to be distinguished by the unusual size of their mouths from the first year after this spoon was deposited in the oak charter-chest of the family. I had a great-uncle whose mouth, when born, extended from ear to ear; but still it was almost insufficient to contain this capacious English spoon, which was quite round, measured three inches in diameter, and on which our valiant ancestor had engraved his crest, a stag's head, with the legend,
"This spune I leave in legacie
To the maist mouthed Rollo, after me.
RINGAN ROLLO, 1421."
Thus, whenever a son or daughter of the family was born, the insertion of this remarkable heirloom into their mouths was one of the usual ceremonies, and was considered as indispensable as marriage or christening. Such a trophy was considered something to be vain of, by the Rollos of the Craig, who were sorely jealous of their neighbours, the Urquharts of Cromartie, who deduced their descent from Alcibiades the Athenian!*
* See Sir Thomas Urquhart's Works.
It had been remarked that every Rollo of the Craig, whose mouth would not admit this spoon, or at least a portion of it, was remarkably unfortunate; thus, of my father's ten brothers, three, who were so unhappy as to have mouths like other people, after being distinguished for their facility in getting into quarrels and turmoils, were all cut off, early in life; one being slain by the English at the Raid of the Redswire; a second with Buccleuch in the Lowlands of Holland; and the third, who had become an officer in a Scottish frigate, being taken by the cruel pirates of Barbary, who basely murdered him. Most happily for themselves, my three elder brothers were blessed with enormously wide mouths—in fact, they were like nothing that I can remember but the mouth of a cannon, or the stone gutters of a cathedral; but I—poor little wretch!—had a mouth so remarkably small, that no part of this capacious spoon would enter therein—not even a segment of it; and from that moment I was unanimously considered as a lost, an untrue Rollo. My father turned his back upon me from that day, and vowed there was less of the Rollo than the M'Farquhar about me; so, from thenceforward, I was, as it were, delivered into the hands of mischance and misfortune.
A goodly volume would be required to narrate all the heart-burnings and sore taunts I endured in boyhood, for the smallness of my mouth; the studied coldness of my father; the gibes and laughter of my brothers; the ominous forebodings and doleful anticipations of the old nurse, Mhona Toshach; and the equivocal taunts of the good-natured friends and tenantry, among whom I seemed to be viewed like the poor dog, that should be hung after acquiring the bad name, the mob and their misdeeds, have given him. That diabolical old spoon was the bane of my existence; and, influenced by certain hints from my poor mother, who, having a very small and very pretty mouth herself, sympathised with me, I made more than one essay, to obtain possession of it, for the purpose of throwing it into the deepest part of Cromartie bay, with a pretty heavy stone attached thereto. But the ancient charter-chest, with its iron bands and triple locks, defied all my efforts; and many a hearty kick I gave it, in pure rage and despite, after every attempt of myself and Mhona had failed to widen my mouth to the family size, by the simple mode of inserting our fingers therein, and pulling the corners in contrary directions.
Had my father (worthy man!) been of a jealous disposition, I doubt not that it might have occasioned some dispeace between him and my mother, who told him often, that "he ought to love my mouth the more for being so like her own;" but, wedded to his own opinions, based as they were on the traditions and predictions of two hundred years, the old gentleman, who had himself a singularly open countenance, was inexorable, and sorely dreaded that little Philip was foredoomed to bring disgrace, or at least mischance, on the Rollos of the Craig.
Save this peculiar prejudice, he was one of the best men in the county; and was one of those old gentlemen who are always looking back and never forward: he stuck manfully to the bombasted doublets and fashions of his father's days, and never allowed a Michaelmas to pass without eating a St. Michael's bannock, or a Christmas without seeing the yule log laid on the hearth, and never was known to kill a spider, in memory of the good service once rendered to Scotland and the Bruce in the days of old.
Though I suffered severely from his strange pique, it was perhaps the source of good to me ultimately. Instead of being retained at home, like my brothers, spelling over the Auld Prymar, and trembling under the ferrule of Domine Daidle, the tutor, fiddler, and factor of the family, and spending three parts of the day in hunting, shooting with the bow, banqueting, dancing, and learning to handle the claymore and target, I was despatched to the King's College at Aberdeen, where I was duly matriculated in 1621, about the time when the battle was fought in Leith Roads between the Spaniards and the Admiral of Zealand; for I remember well that it formed the constant topic of conversation among my brother students, many of whom were from the south country.
Here my usual mischance accompanied me, for I was always involved in quarrels with the ruffling gallants of the Brave City, or lost my money among cheats and sharpers at post and pair, or the old game of trumps. Lord knows! I never had much to lose, and I nearly reached the end of my wits and my purse together. Then, to crown all, I fell deadly sick of that terrible pestilence which has so frequently desolated Aberdeen, having swept away its citizens no less than ten times between the years 1401 and 1647. So great was the panic latterly, that the classes of the universities were removed to Peterhead; but I, unable to accompany them, was borne to the huts erected for the sick on the Links, where we were strictly guarded by soldiers, to prevent the infection spreading.
While there, I received a letter from my father condoling with me on my doleful case, and hinting broadly, that, had my mouth been larger, I could have eaten more, and should assuredly have escaped, like my brothers, who were strong and well. As I had been robbed of my last plack by the cruel nurses, a few silver crowns had been more welcome, and I crushed up the poor man's letter, for the least mention of my "small mouth" was sufficient to make me tremble with rage. My dear mother sent me two jars, one filled with usquebaugh, and the other with honey; but as the soldiers drank the first, and the nurses eat the second, I got no use of either. There, among the pest-stricken, I lingered long, hovering, as it were, between life and death, sighing to be beside my mother, to feel her gentle hand on my hot and throbbing brow, and to hear her kind voice whispering in my ear; for, boy like, I thought if I were only once again beside that kind parent, and she touched me, I should become whole and well.
I thought of the old tower too, though, save one, none loved me there; I saw the dark pines that shaded its old grey walls; the whin rocks, the heath-clad hills, and the blue bay of Cromartie, with the great Sutors, like two Cyclopean towers, that overhang its narrow entrance; and sorely I longed to see them all once again, before I died.
Weary, weak and feeble, I hoped to die soon; but by the blessing of God, and the strength of my own constitution, I recovered; nor must I omit to make honourable mention of that worthy chirurgeon, Donald Gordon, author of the learned "Pharmaco-pinæ, or Table and Taxe of the Vsual Medicaments contayned in his Apothecarie and Chymicall shope, in New Aberdene;" and but for whose skill and kindness, I had never lived to write these my memoirs.
I recovered, the plague passed away, the Senatus Academicus once more returned to the King's College, and the classes were resumed. I commenced my studies again with renewed ardour, and again became immersed in the classic pages of Plutarch, of Sallust, and of Nepos. I longed to become a great scholar, a renowned statesman, or a gallant soldier—any thing famous and lofty, that I might cast from myself the slur that hateful heirloom of the Rollos had fixed upon me; that I might leave for ever the atmosphere of ill omens with which it had surrounded me, and the dark predictions that were ever grating in my ears and rankling in my memory. I perfected myself in mathematics and the humanities, and spent my whole spare time in acquiring the use of arms; thus, before I completed a year at King's College, I could handle the bow and the arquebuse, toss the pike and throw the bar, vault and ride, use pistolette, rapier, and backsword to perfection, so that the oldest and stoutest—yea, and the boldest—of our students were somewhat wary of offending me; for on the shortest notice, off went my gown, and out came bilbo and poniard.
I know not whether it was the nature of my studies, the force of circumstances, or my natural inclination towards high enterprise, that have guided me; but this I may boldly aver, that never, to my knowledge, have I swerved from the proper path which a gentleman of honour and cavalier of spirit ought to pursue in his intercourse with society.
Notwithstanding the rampant Calvinism of the duchy, the Lords of Holstein—for the province has a nobility of its own, and a most important, bulbous-looking nobility they are—had established a theatre near the market-place; and on this night there was to be a performance, as several large red and yellow bills, posted on the corners of the Platz and porch of the great church, informed those who could read them. Accompanied by M'Alpine and Ian, who had never witnessed any thing of the kind before, and who stole away for an hour or so from his guard at the Round Tower, I bent my steps towards the place. We paid a rixdollar for one of the best seats, and found ourselves lodged completely to our satisfaction.
I had heard old people speak much of the theatrical representations made at Aberdeen in 1603, by one William Shakespear (whose dramas are becoming popular among his countrymen) and other English players, who had been sent by Elizabeth, their queen, to perform before his majesty King James VI. of wise memory, and his good subjects of "the brave city," to the great scandal and indignation of the Calvinist clergy, who abhorred all such matters as trumpery, that savoured too much of the popish mysteries of the past age. I had seen one or two representations on the Schoolhill (when I was at college), which forcibly reminded me of the remarks of that gallant soldier, Cervantes, when writing of Lopez de Rueda; "until whose time," says he, "we were not acquainted with all the machinery now necessary, nor with the challenges given by the Moors to the Christians, and which are now so common. We saw no figures rise from underground, nor cloud-borne angels come to visit us; the simple ornament of the theatre was an old curtain, behind which certain minstrels and musicians performed an old romance." Thus had I seen, or rather heard, the plays of Davie Lindsay in open daylight, and I must confess to being in no way prepared for the brilliancy of the spectacle which burst upon us, when entering the theatre of Christian IV. at Glückstadt; and as for my cousin Ian, being but a plain Highland gentleman, wholly unaccustomed to cities and their splendours, reared in the voiceless solitude of a wooded glen, he was for a time struck dumb.
The large hall of an old-fashioned house, the three wooden gables of which were propped on columns of oak, and overhung the Platz, had been recently fitted up for the occasion, and for the first time in Holstein a famous dancer was to make her debut.
Across the upper end, as on a dais, the stage was erected, and curtained off from the main body of the hall; before it sat the members of the orchestra, and behind them were the people of the town, seated in close rows on wooden benches. Along the sides were balconies hung with crimson cloth, emblazoned with the arms of all the princes of the Protestant League, and lighted by oil lamps of warmly-coloured glass, for the accommodation of the pompous burgomaster and grandees of the city. The stage, which was surmounted by the arms of the duchy, and the triple helmet, was profusely gilded, and brilliantly illuminated by rows of wax candles, having reflectors, which threw a blaze of light upon a blue curtain, leaving the audience comparatively in the shade.
We were all attention, and as we occupied the most prominent stall next to those of the burgomaster and Sir David Drummond, governor of the town, we had a good opportunity of observing the citizens as they crowded into their places. This species of entertainment was almost new in Glückstadt; thus, as the expectation and excitement were great, the theatre was soon filled, and in the most prominent part of the pit I observed our Hausmeister, with his bombasted breeches, high ruff, and great basket-hilted espadone, and with a Dutch pipe in his mouth, like most of the men around him, enveloping himself in a cloud of smoke, which soon concealed him from the indignant glances of the blooming female audience. These were dames whose gay dresses made the area appear like a parterre of flowers; and I observed that they were generally softly featured, and brightly complexioned—the young wearing their fair hair dressed over high combs of fretted silver or gold, after the ancient fashion of Holstein; while the old and the married wore large linen coifs, like those of our Lowland women at home.
Many of our Scottish cavaliers, in their bright corslets and laced doublets, with their high ruffs and white scarfs, and a few of the counts and barons of the swampy neighbourhood, were in the balconies; and some of the wild-looking clansmen of my own valiant regiment, in their tartan plaids and buff coats, were scattered here and there, gazing with active-eyed wonder from among the mass of stolid-visaged Holsteiners, some of whom wore hats and ruffs, in fashion a hundred years old. The people waxed impatient, and the clatter of heavy swords and spurred boots on the floor, announced it from time to time, though the orchestra endeavoured to soothe them by performing a piece of music with their fiddles, viols, sacbuts, shalms, and flutes.
I was just wondering who a very pretty damsel, in a brocaded boddice and low-bossomed ruff, might be, when Ian exclaimed—
"Ece! behold!" and I turned towards the stage.
The blue curtain had suddenly vanished, and a beautiful scene was disclosed.
It was a bright shore, beyond which lay a brighter sea, whereon an orient sun was shining; rocks lay in the foreground, with light green vines overhanging them, and many a heavy cluster of the purple grape. On one side lay the ruin of a temple; on the other, an ancient fountain poured forth its sparkling current from a Triton's shell into a marble basin, which, without overflowing, seemed to receive the whole current of that living water. Afar off, the capes and promontories of that fairyland seemed to be sleeping in the glorious sunlight, vanishing away into the summer haze exhaled from an azure sea; and so real seemed the whole, that I am sure our wild Mackays and fierce M'Farquhars in the seats below, as they crossed themselves under their belted plaids, and muttered to each other under their thick mustaches, thought it was all reality, or framed by the spells of the Daoine-shie.
Anon the musicians struck up a Spanish dance, the sound of castanets was heard, then, like a dazzling vision, a light and beautiful girl appeared before us. Whether she was a human being or a fairy, it seemed for a moment difficult to decide; until recollection—quick as the flash of a cannon—came upon me, and I recognised my mysterious beauty, and gazed upon her, wonderstruck and speechless.
Her native charms, which were very great, were enhanced to the utmost by the elegance of her costume, which reached scarcely below the knee, and had innumerable little red and black flounces. Her boddice and stockings were of scarlet—the former was low-bosomed, and revealed the beautiful contour of her form; her arms were bare, round and white as snow; but how shall I describe the smallness of her feet and hands, for every way this being seemed perfect? The luxuriance of her glossy hair was braided into a coronet, and amid its darkness shone a row of pearl pins, from each of which depended a little golden ball. Her smiles seemed full of love and fascination; and her dark and glorious eyes were full of joy and ecstasy.
In the lightness of her movements she seemed to float upon that flood of melody, which filled the whole theatre, and made all our hearts swell and leap, we knew not why. Mine was full of new and delightful sensations—my voice was gone—I had only eyes. While beating time with her castanets, the beautiful Spaniard, turned, whirled, and bounded with the lightness of a spirit, at every pirouette making her whole muslin dress stand out in a circle around her waist; thus my eyes wandered in astonishment from her finely formed ankles to her snowy arms, from her white shoulders to her braided hair, her smiling face, and flashing eyes.
Young, inexperienced, and susceptible, having but lately left my native land, where no such exhibition would have been tolerated for a moment, under penalty of the iron jougs and cutty-stool, I was borne, as it were, away from myself; my whole soul was riveted on the graceful motions of this dazzling dancer, who seemed to move amid a sea of light and harmony, nor did I rally until a roar of applause shook the rafters of the theatre.
"How she pirouettes!" said an old countess in the balcony near us; "oh, the light flounces—the pretty feet!"
"The devil! she is quite enchanting! beautiful—beautiful! such ankles!" said a major of Reitres.
"She dances like a fairy, a trold, an Elle woman!" said the burgomaster's wife.
"Or like the Lady Margarette of Skofgaard, who danced twelve knights to death!" added the burgomaster, Dubbelsteirn.
"Herr Baron," said I to Baron Karl of Klosterfiord, a captain of Danish pistoliers, when the blue curtain had fallen, and the lady retired, "how is this fair damsel named?"
"We only know her as the Señora Prudentia Bandolo."
"What a charming name for a woman so pretty!" said a cavalier in crimson and gold lace, who accompanied the baron, and whom I recognised to be a Sleswiger.
"Where does she live?" I asked carelessly.
"I would give my best horse to know," replied the cavalier, laughing.
The baron gave an expressive cough, and said—
"You would not be half so foolish, Fritz."
"But she involves herself in a cloud of mystery," replied Fritz, who was major of the Sleswig musketeers; "and the fact is, she is a charming little darling, and would look very well riding at the head of our regiment."
"Beside the chaplain, eh? Your staff would then be complete, Fritz," replied the baron laughing, and curling up his fair mustaches. "Under protection of the truce between King Christian the Emperor," he added, turning to me, "she has only come to Glückstadt until the troops march towards the Weser; and, as she will dance here a hundred dollars into her purse every night, she may form a pretty prize for a foraging party, when we approach the frontiers of the empire."
"Then we musketeers of Sleswig may have her, after all!" yawned Fritz, as he polished his cuirass with his gauntlet; "do you know, Karl, that since she has been here among us, she actually pretends to have turned Protestant."
"Pretends!" I reiterated, shocked at the manner in which these rough soldiers spoke of a being so beautiful; "surely you mistake, for I think there is a great appearance of sincerity about her. I would say all was candour, and there was no concealment."
"Do you judge by the fascination of her smile, or the scantiness of yonder Spanish petticoat?" said the major, Fritz, still polishing his cuirass.
"I judge by her face; its expression is quite artless—she really does not seem to be aware of her own charms."
"The devil! thou art quite smitten!" said the captain of pistoliers, with a boisterous laugh. "That idea amuses me extremely; I would give my best helmet to see a woman who was so little aware of her own beauty that she required to be told of it. I assure you, sir, that these pretty creatures are quite as artificial as their scenery."
The Sleswig cavalier pulled up his high ruff to conceal how he smiled; and, though I felt indignant at their severe remarks on the actress, there was such a frank, pleasant, and soldierly air about them both, that I could not quarrel with them. They were much alike, having both the same devil-may-care aspect; having mustaches shorn off at the corners of their mouths, with broad foreheads and bold restless eyes; over his right temple the pistolier had a sword-cut, which was scarcely healed. After a pause—
"I say, Fritz," said he; "have you, who are an enterprising genius, actually never discovered where this girl lives?"
"How can I with certainty! No one knows any thing about where she lives—save that she does not live at home." There was a flourish of music.
"Ece! the curtain rises again!" said M'Alpine, waving his bonnet; "and again all eyes turn towards her, like flowers towards the sun."
My goddess was again upon the stage, but in a very different dress. The scene disclosed was a far stretching valley between beautiful mountains; over one of these rose the pale light of the moon; on the other died away the last glow of the west; the calm current of a starlit river wound between the shaded hills, and the lofty arches of a ruined bridge spanned it; their downward shadows were reflected deep in the stream below. The white columns of a ruined temple, such as might have stood in Lybian deserts, arose on one side; on the other stood the red square keep of a guarded fortress, and dark Italian pine-woods threw their gloom around them. The white-orbed moon soared slowly into the blue sky, which became studded by innumerable stars; it edged the ruins, the rocks, the leaves, and the riplets of the stream below with a silvery wavering light; and, lo! there seemed to be nothing but objects of nature standing palpably before us.
Clad in long and graceful drapery, which was white as snow, girdled by a glittering zone or bandelet below her rounded bosom, with her arms bare to those dazzling shoulders, on which her long hair rolled unbound, with a lyre in her hand, and a bright star sparkling on her radiant brow, Prudentia, as the Genius of Poetry, arose from the ruin of a fallen column, around which the leaves of the ivy, the vine, and acanthus were clustering, and came forward greeted by a storm of applause. I know not whether it was the style of her dress, or the subdued light around her; but she seemed paler, and if possible more beautiful, than before.
The play was a tragedy, which I now remember not, neither have I any recollection of the other characters; for all my ideas were absorbed by the fair Spanish jigurante, who now made her appearance as a singer, and after a short prelude on her lyre, the notes of which seemed to come from the orchestra, she began to warble, with all the sweetness of a little bird, a Spanish song, and it seemed to be somewhat like the serenade I had overheard her practising; and, however absurd it might seem for a maid of Magna Græcia to sing in the language of Old Castile, it served the honest Holsteiners quite as well as the purest Greek that was spoken in the days of Pythagoras.
If I was entranced while this siren sung, I was equally delighted by her acting. My heart beat like lightning; but I had one source of disappointment—she never once turned her dark eyes towards me, nor seemed to observe me, although the balcony occupied by M'Alpine, the two other cavaliers, and myself, was made sufficiently conspicuous by the richness of our dresses. I detected, however, one bright glance of recognition thrown among the closely packed masses of the pit; I followed the smiling glance, and discovered the round bullet-head and grey glistening eyes of our Hausmeister.
Remembering the stuff he had so recently told me, about trolds and fairies and women who were hollow behind, I was making mental resolutions to punch a bole or two in his doublet, when the sudden descent of the curtain, and rapid extinction of half the lights, broke the spell of the place; but the voice of Prudentia still seemed to linger in my ear, as, in closing the epilogue, she sang the last verses of Lopez de Vega.
"Will she appear again to night, Herr Baron?" I asked the captain of the pistoliers.
"No, thank Heaven!" said he, yawning; "the drama is over."
"And I am tired to death," added Fritz, wrapping his mantle about him; "why, Herr Ensign, you do not mean to say you could endure another hour of this?"
I neither waited to see their covert smiles, nor bid them adieu, but avoided Ian and M'Alpine by mingling with the crowd, and hurried away, that I might see Prudentia as she left the theatre, or at least contrive to intercept her as she entered that mysterious house which seemed to be our common residence.
After the glare and heat of the theatre for so many hours, the moonlit street seemed by contrast to be dark and cold. I rolled my plaid about me, and, in the shadow of a projecting doorway, stood watching at the corner of the Platz; still and sluggish as a stream of ink, the canal lay on one hand; the dark and dirty street, through which the crowd was dispersing, opened on the other. The storks were making uncouth sounds on the gables overhead, and before me stood our tall mansion, the door of which (after my two friends had entered) was unclosed no more; and I watched in vain till the Laird of Craigie's drums began to beat reveillée, and I heard the shrill fifes pouring the old Lowland air to the morning wind—
"Cauld an' raw the wind does blaw,
Oh, sirs! it's winter fairly;
But though the hills be owre wi snaw,
We maun up in the mornin' early!"
Every person in Glückstadt had long since retired to their homes, but I saw nothing of my charming actress, and remembered the remarkable observation of Major Fritz—that she lived every where but at home.
I thought of Herr Roskilde, who seemingly had not returned either, and my mind began to exchange its obstinacy for anger and jealousy. Grey morning stole along the waveless waters of the Elbe; the quaint houses threw their heavy shadows against each other; and the stars, which had been shining in the puddles of the unpaved streets, disappeared. The kites, the crows, and other ravenous birds, which, with the storks, formed then the only scavengers in Glückstadt, were all busy burying their long bills among the heaps of mud and other debris of the silent streets, before it occurred to me that I looked very like a fool or a housebreaker, to be shivering there at such an untimeous hour.
With this pleasant conviction I returned to my quarters, cold and weary, vexed and sleepy.
On ascending the stair, I saw the broad hat, the brown cloak, and espadone of Herr Otto, hanging as usual on three pegs at the first landing-place; and, on pausing there for a moment, I heard him snoring as he did every night, like a sow-gelder winding his horn.
"'Zounds!" said I, as I lay down to sleep completely mystified; "for one moment I have never taken my eyes from that door; none have entered but Ian and Angus Roy, and here is our Hausmeister, whom I left at the theatre, snorting comfortably in his own bed!"
The pale dawn was glimmering on the misty waters of the Elbe, and the storks were flapping their dewy wings on the steep gables and fantastic chimney-tops, when our pipers in the Bürger-platz blew loud and shrill the pibroch of Mackay. Hoarse and fierce, and wild and wailing, by turns it rang in the echoing streets "The white banner of Clan Aiodh," that martial air which so often has summoned the tribes of Strathnaver to battle and victory; and, from every street and alley, our men came forth in marching order to the place of arms. There the colours were unfurled, and Sir Donald, sheathed in his bright armour, sat on horseback with his sword drawn.
The fifteen companies of Highlanders fell quickly into their ranks; the musketeers in the centre with the colours, the pikes on the flanks, the drums, fifes, and pipes on the right of the line. Nothing military could surpass the splendid and imposing aspect of the regiment of Strathnaver, as it appeared under arms that morning in the Bürger-platz of Glückstadt; for, to the martial bearing and peculiar garb of the Scottish clansmen, our soldiers now united that steadiness, and strict unity of movement, which disciplined troops alone possess. On that morning I carried the banner of the chief; my post was in the centre, and with pride I glanced towards the flanks of that long and stately line. The bright musket-barrels, the keen pike-heads furnished by the armourers of Glasgow, and the polished headpieces, were glittering in the morning sun, but motionless as the rough hairy sporrans, the bare knees, and gartered hose; the banners, plumes, and tartans, alone rustled in the morning wind—those dark green tartans which my brave comrades were soon to dye in the best blood of the Imperialists.
On horseback, and muffled in a mantle, Otto Roskilde passed down the line towards the gate of the town; he had pistols at the front of his saddle, and a portmanteau behind it, for travelling; as in his quality of guide, or general informer, he was to repair with us to King Christian's headquarters. Whatever my secret suspicions might be, I had as yet no reasons to divulge them, or to defame the accredited guide of the king; and indeed I could not do so, without the acknowledgment of having in person somewhat contravened the orders of the governor, Sir David Drummond.
"Herr Otto, your servant," said I, politely, as he passed me; "I trust you have suffered but little annoyance from your wound."
"Until you spoke—none," said he, a deep smile on his tiger-like mouth. Offended by his brevity, I gazed sternly at him, for there was something striking, if not terrible, in the fierce smile with which he honoured me. It was as deceitful and satanic as such grey eyes as his, could assume. "But have Spaniards ever grey eyes?" thought I; "can this indeed be that frightful Bandolo, of whom the baron spoke? his sister's eyes were so beautiful——"
The order to march cut short my reflections. Ten shrill fifes and ten drums struck up merrily the famous "Scottish march;" pikes, banners, and muskets were sloped in the sun, and in broad sections we poured through the streets and fortifications of Glückstadt, the houses, bridges, and casemated ramparts of which gave back the tread of our marching feet, the rat-tat-tat of the drums, and the sharp note of the fifes, with a thousand reverberations, as we marched towards the Stor. This was not in the direction of the Imperialists; but there King Christian had planted his royal standard, and appointed the rendezvous of his troops.
It was but an easy day's march distant from Glückstadt, over a flat country; for the little duchy of Holstein, which unites the mainland of Denmark to the great continent of Germany, is almost level. The land seemed nowhere to possess what we Scots call a military aspect; there were few or no positions whereon the inhabitants might meet or repel invaders, yet the Holsteiners are brave men. The flatness of the country wearied us; we would have given the world for a glimpse of a mountain; and I frequently heard our hill-climbing clansmen marvelling how, when the country was made, the mountains were forgotten. The road lay straight before us, bounded either by heath, or cultivated fields, or by meadows, where enormously fat cattle were browsing; and from whence the pretty dairymaids, clad in short petticoats of broad-striped red and yellow stuff, with braided hair and hats of plaited straw, shading their blooming faces, ran off as we approached, being scared either by a rustic terror of soldiers, or the foreign aspect of our tartan garb. Thatched farms, shaded by pale green weeping willows, close-clipped hedgerows, or low stone dykes, succeeded each other in monotonous succession; here and there rose grassy hillocks, with reedy tarns of green and turgid water between them, or occasional thickets of beech, where the summer birds were singing; but though there was little wood generally, there were abundance of wild-roses, which flourished by the wayside, and scented the balmy air.
There were no tremendous rocks like the Sutors of Cromartie, hurling the waves of ocean back upon themselves; no deep or savage glens, like Sulbhein in Assynt; no sheets of foam rolling in thunder over a precipice, like the torrent of Foyers; no vast forests like those of the Grants; no fierce streams like the Spey and the Fiddich; and no vast lakes like those inland seas that lie in the great Glen of Albyn; but every thing was like the fat burghers of Hamburg and Lübeck, or the twenty-breeched boors of the Low Countries—flat and sleepy, quiet and insipid.
About mid-day we crossed the Stor, and entered Itzhoe, a small trading town, which lies at the foot of a gentle eminence, defended by a small castle, on which we saw the royal standard with the hearts and lions of Denmark flying, announcing that King Christian resided there.
We found the little town crowded by his troops, the streets encumbered by artillery, powder and baggage waggons; the churches and houses were filled with troops; others were bivouacked in the fields along the bank of the river, and on our approach great numbers of our countrymen, who served under the Danish banner, came forth to meet us; for in the army, which mustered about twenty-five thousand, there were not less than twelve thousand Scots, including officers; Lord Nithsdale's three regiments consisted each of three thousand men; Sir James Leslie's and ours, made two thousand more; and there were more than one thousand Scottish cavaliers, all officers, who led or served in the regiments of German Reitres, Danish Pikes, and the Count de Montgomerie's French Musketeers, many of whom I shall have occasion to mention in the course of my adventures.
On the very day after our joining the main army, we were nearly involved in a quarrel with the king, which, by disgusting his Scottish auxiliaries, might have ended all his projects of conquest, and caused his forces to melt away.
Christian IV., the hero of Denmark, the brother-in-law of our late King James VI., and uncle of King Charles I., was a gallant soldier, then esteemed no way inferior in personal qualities or reputation to his rival, the great star of the north, Gustavus Adolphus; but far his superior in military pride and keen desire for fame. Under his active government, Denmark had risen in importance, and, after her separation from Sweden, had acquired a powerful navy, a brave and well-disciplined army, a well-ordered exchequer, and, such prosperity as she never could have possessed in the days of her union; for an ancient kingdom, which possesses national institutions, should never surrender them while the sword can maintain them, and never place itself at the mercy of another; and right glad was I to see that my own native Scotland remembered this, when, in 1606, King James insidiously projected his incorporating union, which was happily baffled by the true patriots of the time, as I hope aggression will always be baffled and repelled by their posterity, lest we become a province of the southern kingdom.
Enfeebled by its unnatural union, Denmark, when once free of Sweden, began to assume a high place in the scale of European nations; and though the proud and haughty Christian could not surrender his claim to the Swedish crown, and while the Swedes gloried in their freedom, so recently acquired under Gustavus Vasa, both Christian and Gustavus Adolphus saw that the clouds of battle were gathering on the German frontier, that the day was at hand when they would be compelled to abandon their national quarrel and petty jealousies, and for common safety to unite their arms against the skill of Tilly, the courage of Wallenstein, and the vast power of the empire. A treaty of peace between Christian and Gustavus had been completed at Copenhagen on the 20th January, 1613, principally by the mediation of our king, James VI.; but the approach of external danger had only smothered for a time the dispute of the northern kings.
To return: On the day after our reaching the headquarters at Itzhoe, we were reviewed by the king, who ordered Sir Donald "to draw up the regiment in battaglia," on the plain before the gates of the town. The day was beautiful; thin as gauze, a pale haze curled up from the banks of the Stor, and the sun shone brightly on the quaint old town and older castle of Itzhoe.
Dunbar, our sergeant-major, a brave old cavalier who had served in the Scottish Horse Guards under Sir Andrew Kerr of Pherniherst, drew up the regiment in line, with colours and pikes in the centre; five hundred musketeers, with the drums, being on the left flank; and five hundred more, with the pipes, being on the right;—the ranks were three deep.
Accompanied by the Earl of Nithsdale, the Lord Spynie, the Laird of Murkle, the Baron of Klosterfiord, and various nobles and colonels, all bravely mounted and richly accoutred, King Christian approached, and we received him with the highest honours; our pipes playing a salute, our drums beating the point of war, the colours drooping, the officers in front; while the whole line presented their pikes and muskets, according to the forms which have come down to us from the chivalry of the olden time.
Leaving, at some distance behind, the brilliant cavalcade which accompanied him, the King—a brave monarch, who had been almost riddled by bullets, and had more sword-cuts in his body than slashes in his doublet—rode slowly forward, and saluted the whole regiment by uncovering his head. He wore a suit of the richest blue Utrecht velvet laced with gold, a crimson cloak of Danish silk, and long Swedish leather gloves. Everything about him was magnificent. (In 1621, Christian was rich enough to be able to lend King James VI. a hundred thousand thalers.) Around his neck hung a gold chain, like the catella of the Romans, and he wore a magnificent gold scarf. His countenance was open, manly, frank, and ruddy; having a thick red mustache, and a clear blue eye. His horse was richly caparisoned in the Danish colours, having the leopard passant in the corners of the saddlecloth, and a chamfrain made of thick leather, boiled and prepared to encase the charger's head, under the bridle, which was thickly covered with gold-headed studs.
Our good regiment of Strathnaver, afterwards known as "the Scottish Invincibles," being a Highland battalion, was viewed by his majesty with marked attention. He rode slowly down the front, and up the rear to the right flank, where he acquainted Sir Donald with his wish, that we should march past him in review order. The whole line then fell back by companies,* and marched past with pipes playing and drums beating, colours flying, pikes advanced and matches lighted. A burst of applause came from our Lowland countrymen, who, as well as the Danes, crowded from their cantonments to behold us. Now came the quarrel already referred to.
* He means, broke into open column.
The review being over, our colonel, Sir Donald Mackay, his two majors, sergeant-major Dunbar, and all the officers, were summoned to the front, that they might kiss the hand of his majesty, who expressed surprise at the fashion of our colours, and required that we should place the Danish cross above that of St. Andrew!
"May it please your majesty to excuse our compliance with this order," replied Sir Donald, concealing his indignation under a calm exterior; "for we cannot impose the Danish cross on Scottish colours without failing in our duty and allegiance to his majesty Charles I. as king of Scotland; and sure I am that all these cavaliers, my officers, will agree with me. What is your opinion, Dunbar?"
"Swords and pikes!" grumbled the old fellow under his thick mustache; "we cannot carry the Danish cross without dishonour."
"Dishonour!" reiterated the king, flushing with passion and raising his baton, but immediately lowering it on perceiving that the gauntleted hand of Dunbar sought the hilt of his claymore.
"I mean, dishonour to ourselves as Scotsman," continued Dunbar, willing to palliate his bluntness; "for a superiority of Denmark over our native country would thereby be implied."
"But you serve Denmark, not Scotland; and Denmark has given both kings and laws to England," replied the king, who wished that the Scots, like all his other auxiliaries, French and Germans, should carry the Danish colours, that all their valour and achievements might accrue to the glory of Denmark; but it was somewhat unfortunate for his project that he commenced with our regiment. The officers looked at each other darkly under the peaks of their helmets; bit their gloves, and whispered together. "Gentlemen," resumed the king, with increasing anger; "excuse me if I do not perceive the justice of your objections."
"I trust your majesty will understand," replied Sir Donald, with the utmost firmness and respect, "that it would ill become us, as subjects of the Scottish crown, to put foreign badges on these our native colours, which for ages our forefathers have borne without stain and without dishonour; since that day when the Scottish host, arrayed in battle against the Saxon kings of the Heptarchy, saw the cross of the blessed St. Andrew span the noonday sky above their lines. We cannot here acknowledge a superiority, which, since the beginning of record, no country ever possessed over ours; for even so early as the siege of Jerusalem, Hegisippus introduceth Josephus as saying, when endeavouring to dissuade the Jews from a war with the Romans, 'Scotia quæ terris nihil debet, &c., which meaneth, that 'even Scotland, which is independent of the whole earth,' was afraid of Rome."
"But therein I hold Hegisippus to be a foul liar, and Josephus another," grumbled our stout sergeant-major; "for our auld mother Scotland was never afraid as long as she had claws to scratch wi', as I will maintain body for body, on foot or on horseback, against any man in all Denmark."
A murmur of applause rose from our officers.
"Air Muire! it is well said, thou brave Dunbar," said Ian, clapping the old officer* on the shoulder, and shaking the lofty eagle's plume that adorned his own helmet; "Dioul! it would be altogether an intolerable thing if we, the descendants of those brave Scots whom the Danes could never conquer, and by whom they were overthrown at Luncarty, and in twenty other battles, should condescend to carry their red cross on our blue banners."
* Sergeant-major in those days meant Adjutant. See note concerning the colours.
Finding that he had such intractable spirits to deal with, the king concealed his anger, and relinquished his project for the present. We carried our blue national flag with its white cross against the Imperialists, without imposition or alteration; and, by my soul! they soon learned under which cross it was—the Scottish or Danish—that most heads were broken; but the king did not readily forget the affront we had given him.
After a few minutes' delay, the count entered alone. He was armed just as I had seen him yesterday, and appeared somewhat jaded and fatigued.
"Ah, my friend and countryman! I have again the honour to salute you," said he, seating himself by my bedside. "A thousand cannonades! how well you are looking this morning; you will be with your regiment in a week. Ah, that fine regiment!—King Christian's Invincibles, we call them now. But say, have these lasses, my daughters, been kind to you?"
"Kind as sisters."