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The Abbot

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As she thus spoke, the eye of her husband caught from hers courage and
comfort, and it lightened as he took her hand and replied, "It is most
true, my Mary, and I deserve thy rebuke, who forget what I am, in
repining because I am not what I cannot be. I am now what the most
famed ancestors of those I envy were, the mean man raised into
eminence by his own exertions; and sure it is a boast as honourable to
have those capacities which are necessary to the foundation of a
family, as to be descended from one who possessed them some centuries
before. The Hay of Loncarty, who bequeathed his bloody yoke to his
lineage,--the 'dark gray man,' who first founded the house of Douglas,
had yet less of ancestry to boast than I have. For thou knowest, Mary,
that my name derives itself from a line of ancient warriors, although
my immediate forefathers preferred the humble station in which thou
didst first find them; and war and counsel are not less proper to the
house of Glendonwyne, even, in its most remote descendants, than to
the proudest of their baronage." [Footnote: This was a house of
ancient descent and superior consequence, including persons who fought
at Bannockburn and Otterburn, and closely connected by alliance and
friendship with the great Earls of Douglas. The Knight in this story
argues as most Scotsmen would do in his situation, for all of the same
clan are popularly considered as descended from the same stock, and as
having a right to the ancestral honor of the chief branch. This
opinion, though sometimes ideal, is so strong even at this day of
innovation, that it may be observed as a national difference between
my countrymen and the English. If you ask an Englishman of good birth,
whether a person of the same name be connected with him, he answers
(if _in dubio._) "No--he is a mere namesake." Ask a similar
question of a Scot, (I mean a Scotsman,) he replies--"He is one of our
clan; I daresay there is a relationship, though I do not know how
distant." The Englishman thinks of discountenancing a species of
rivalry in society; the Scotsman's answer is grounded on the ancient
idea of strengthening the clan.]

He strode across the hall as he spoke; and the Lady smiled internally
to observe how much his mind dwelt upon the prerogatives of birth, and
endeavoured to establish his claims, however remote, to a share in
them, at the very moment when he affected to hold them in contempt. It
will easily be guessed, however, that she permitted no symptom to
escape her that could show she was sensible of the weakness of her
husband, a perspicacity which perhaps his proud spirit could not very
easily have brooked.

As he returned from the extremity of the hall, to which he had stalked
while in the act of vindicating the title of the house of Glendonwyne
in its most remote branches to the full privileges of aristocracy,
"Where," he said, "is Wolf? I have not seen him since my return, and
he was usually the first to welcome my home-coming."

"Wolf," said the Lady, with a slight degree of embarrassment, for
which perhaps, she would have found it difficult to assign any reason
even to herself, "Wolf is chained up for the present. He hath been
surly to my page."

"Wolf chained up--and Wolf surly to your page!" answered Sir Halbert
Glendinning; "Wolf never was surly to any one; and the chain will
either break his spirit or render him savage--So ho, there--set Wolf
free directly."

He was obeyed; and the huge dog rushed into the hall, disturbing, by
his unwieldy and boisterous gambols, the whole economy of reels,
rocks, and distaffs, with which the maidens of the household were
employed when the arrival of their lord was a signal to them to
withdraw, and extracting from Lilias, who was summoned to put them
again in order, the natural observation, "That the Laird's pet was as
troublesome as the lady's page."

"And who is this page, Mary?" said the Knight, his attention again
called to the subject by the observation of the waiting-woman,--"Who
is this page, whom every one seems to weigh in the balance with my old
friend and favourite, Wolf?--When did you aspire to the dignity of
keeping a page, or who is the boy?"

"I trust, my Halbert," said the Lady, not without a blush, "you will
not think your wife entitled to less attendance than other ladies of
her quality?"

"Nay, Dame Mary," answered the Knight, "it is enough you desire such
an attendant.--Yet I have never loved to nurse such useless menials--a
lady's page--it may well suit the proud English dames to have a
slender youth to bear their trains from bower to hall, fan them when
they slumber, and touch the lute for them when they please to listen;
but our Scottish matrons were wont to be above such vanities, and our
Scottish youth ought to be bred to the spear and the stirrup."

"Nay, but, my husband," said the Lady, "I did but jest when I called
this boy my page; he is in sooth a little orphan whom we saved from
perishing in the lake, and whom I have since kept in the castle out of
charity.--Lilias, bring little Roland hither."

Roland entered accordingly, and, flying to the Lady's side, took hold
of the plaits of her gown, and then turned round, and gazed with an
attention not unmingled with fear, upon the stately form of the
Knight.--"Roland," said the Lady, "go kiss the hand of the noble
Knight, and ask him to be thy protector."--But Roland obeyed not, and,
keeping his station, continued to gaze fixedly and timidly on Sir
Halbert Glendinning.--"Go to the Knight, boy," said the Lady; "what
dost thou fear, child? Go, kiss Sir Halbert's hand."

"I will kiss no hand save yours, Lady," answered the boy.

"Nay, but do as you are commanded, child," replied the Lady.--"He is
dashed by your presence," she said, apologizing to her husband; "but
is he not a handsome boy?"

"And so is Wolf," said Sir Halbert, as he patted his huge four-footed
favourite, "a handsome dog; but he has this double advantage over your
new favourite, that he does what he is commanded, and hears not when
he is praised."

"Nay, now you are displeased with me," replied the Lady; "and yet why
should you be so? There is nothing wrong in relieving the distressed
orphan, or in loving that which is in itself lovely and deserving of
affection. But you have seen Mr. Warden at Edinburgh, and he has set
you against the poor boy."

"My dear Mary," answered her husband, "Mr. Warden better knows his
place than to presume to interfere either in your affairs or mine. I
neither blame your relieving this boy, nor your kindness for him. But,
I think, considering his birth and prospects, you ought not to treat
him with injudicious fondness, which can only end in rendering him
unfit for the humble situation to which Heaven has designed him."

"Nay, but, my Halbert, do but look at the boy," said the Lady, "and
see whether he has not the air of being intended by Heaven for
something nobler than a mere peasant. May he not be designed, as
others have been, to rise out of a humble situation into honour and
eminence?"

Thus far had she proceeded, when the consciousness that she was
treading upon delicate ground at once occurred to her, and induced her
to take the most natural, but the worst of all courses in such
occasions, whether in conversation or in an actual bog, namely, that
of stopping suddenly short in the illustration which she had
commenced. Her brow crimsoned, and that of Sir Halbert Glendinning was
slightly overcast. But it was only for an instant; for he was
incapable of mistaking his lady's meaning, or supposing that she meant
intentional disrespect to him.

"Be it as you please, my love," he replied; "I owe you too much to
contradict you in aught which may render your solitary mode of life
more endurable. Make of this youth what you will, and you have my full
authority for doing so. But remember he is your charge, not
mine--remember he hath limbs to do man's service, a soul and a tongue
to worship God; breed him, therefore, to be true to his country and to
Heaven; and for the rest, dispose of him as you list--it is, and shall
rest, your own matter."

This conversation decided the fate of Roland Graeme, who from
thence-forward was little noticed by the master of the mansion of
Avenel, but indulged and favoured by its mistress.

This situation led to many important consequences, and, in truth,
tended to bring forth the character of the youth in all its broad
lights and deep shadows. As the Knight himself seemed tacitly to
disclaim alike interest and control over the immediate favourite of
his lady, young Roland was, by circumstances, exempted from the strict
discipline to which, as the retainer of a Scottish man of rank, he
would otherwise have been subjected, according to all the rigour of
the age. But the steward, or master of the household--such was the
proud title assumed by the head domestic of each petty baron--deemed
it not advisable to interfere with the favourite of the Lady, and
especially since she had brought the estate into the present family.
Master Jasper Wingate was a man experienced, as he often boasted, in
the ways of great families, and knew how to keep the steerage even
when the wind and tide chanced to be in contradiction.

This prudent personage winked at much, and avoided giving opportunity
for farther offence, by requesting little of Roland Graeme beyond the
degree of attention which he was himself disposed to pay; rightly
conjecturing, that however lowly the place which the youth might hold
in the favour of the Knight of Avenel, still to make an evil report of
him would make an enemy of the Lady, without securing the favour of
her husband. With these prudential considerations, and doubtless not
without an eye to his own ease and convenience, he taught the boy as
much, and only as much, as he chose to learn, readily admitting
whatever apology it pleased his pupil to allege in excuse for idleness
or negligence. As the other persons in the castle, to whom such tasks
were delegated, readily imitated the prudential conduct of the
major-domo, there was little control used towards Roland Graeme, who,
of course, learned no more than what a very active mind, and a total
impatience of absolute idleness led him to acquire upon his own
account, and by dint of his own exertions. The latter were especially
earnest, when the Lady herself condescended to be his tutress, or to
examine his progress.

It followed also from his quality as my Lady's favourite, that Roland
was viewed with no peculiar good-will by the followers of the Knight,
many of whom, of the same age, and apparently similar origin, with the
fortunate page, were subjected to severe observance of the ancient and
rigorous discipline of a feudal retainer. To these, Roland Graeme was
of course an object of envy, and, in consequence, of dislike and
detraction; but the youth possessed qualities which it was impossible
to depreciate. Pride, and a sense of early ambition, did for him what
severity and constant instruction did for others. In truth, the
youthful Roland displayed that early flexibility both of body and
mind, which renders exercise, either mental or bodily, rather matter
of sport than of study; and it seemed as if he acquired accidentally,
and by starts, those accomplishments, which earnest and constant
instruction, enforced by frequent reproof and occasional chastisement,
had taught to others. Such military exercises, such lessons of the
period, as he found it agreeable or convenient to apply to, he learned
so perfectly, as to confound those who were ignorant how often the
want of constant application is compensated by vivacity of talent and
ardent enthusiasm. The lads, therefore, who were more regularly
trained to arms, to horsemanship, and to other necessary exercises of
the period, while they envied Roland Graeme the indulgence or
negligence with which he seemed to be treated, had little reason to
boast of their own superior acquirements; a few hours, with the
powerful exertion of a most energetic will, seemed to do for him more
than the regular instruction of weeks could accomplish for others.

Under these advantages, if, indeed, they were to be termed such, the
character of young Roland began to develope itself. It was bold,
peremptory, decisive, and overbearing; generous, if neither withstood
nor contradicted; vehement and passionate, if censured or opposed. He
seemed to consider himself as attached to no one, and responsible to
no one, except his mistress, and even over her mind he had gradually
acquired that species of ascendancy which indulgence is so apt to
occasion. And although the immediate followers and dependents of Sir
Halbert Glendinning saw his ascendancy with jealousy, and often took
occasion to mortify his vanity, there wanted not those who were
willing to acquire the favour of the Lady of Avenel by humouring and
taking part with the youth whom she protected; for although a
favourite, as the poet assures us, has no friend, he seldom fails to
have both followers and flatterers.

The partisans of Roland Graeme were chiefly to be found amongst the
inhabitants of the little hamlet on the shore of the lake. These
villagers, who were sometimes tempted to compare their own situation
with that of the immediate and constant followers of the Knight, who
attended him on his frequent journeys to Edinburgh and elsewhere,
delighted in considering and representing themselves as more properly
the subjects of the Lady of Avenel than of her husband. It is true,
her wisdom and affection on all occasions discountenanced the
distinction which was here implied; but the villagers persisted in
thinking it must be agreeable to her to enjoy their peculiar and
undivided homage, or at least in acting as if they thought so; and one
chief mode by which they evinced their sentiments, was by the respect
they paid to young Roland Graeme, the favourite attendant of the
descendant of their ancient lords. This was a mode of flattery too
pleasing to encounter rebuke or censure; and the opportunity which it
afforded the youth to form, as it were, a party of his own within the
limits of the ancient barony of Avenel, added not a little to the
audacity and decisive tone of a character, which was by nature bold,
impetuous, and incontrollable.

Of the two members of the household who had manifested an early
jealousy of Roland Graeme, the prejudices of Wolf were easily
overcome; and in process of time the noble dog slept with Bran, Luath,
and the celebrated hounds of ancient days. But Mr. Warden, the
chaplain, lived, and retained his dislike to the youth. That good man,
single-minded and benevolent as he really was, entertained rather more
than a reasonable idea of the respect due to him as a minister, and
exacted from the inhabitants of the castle more deference than the
haughty young page, proud of his mistress's favour, and petulant from
youth and situation, was at all times willing to pay. His bold and
free demeanour, his attachment to rich dress and decoration, his
inaptitude to receive instruction, and his hardening himself against
rebuke, were circumstances which induced the good old man, with more
haste than charity, to set the forward page down as a vessel of wrath,
and to presage that the youth nursed that pride and haughtiness of
spirit which goes before ruin and destruction. On the other hand,
Roland evinced at times a marked dislike, and even something like
contempt, of the chaplain. Most of the attendants and followers of Sir
Halbert Glendinning entertained the same charitable thoughts as the
reverend Mr. Warden; but while Roland was favoured by their lady, and
endured by their lord, they saw no policy in making their opinions
public.

Roland Graeme was sufficiently sensible of the unpleasant situation in
which he stood; but in the haughtiness of his heart he retorted upon
the other domestics the distant, cold, and sarcastic manner in which
they treated him, assumed an air of superiority which compelled the
most obstinate to obedience, and had the satisfaction at least to be
dreaded, if he was heartily hated.

The chaplain's marked dislike had the effect of recommending him to
the attention of Sir Halbert's brother, Edward, who now, under the
conventual appellation of Father Ambrose, continued to be one of the
few monks who, with the Abbot Eustatius, had, notwithstanding the
nearly total downfall of their faith under the regency of Murray, been
still permitted to linger in the cloisters at Kennaquhair. Respect to
Sir Halbert had prevented their being altogether driven out of the
Abbey, though their order was now in a great measure suppressed, and
they were interdicted the public exercise of their ritual, and only
allowed for their support a small pension out of their once splendid
revenues. Father Ambrose, thus situated, was an occasional, though
very rare visitant, at the Castle of Avenel, and was at such times
observed to pay particular attention to Roland Graeme, who seemed to
return it with more depth of feeling than consisted with his usual
habits.

Thus situated, years glided on, during which the Knight of Avenel
continued to act a frequent and important part in the convulsions of
his distracted country; while young Graeme anticipated, both in wishes
and personal accomplishments, the age which should enable him to
emerge from the obscurity of his present situation.




Chapter the Fourth.


Amid their cups that freely flow'd,
Their revelry and mirth,
A youthful lord tax'd Valentine
With base and doubtful birth.
VALENTINE AND ORSON.

When Roland Graeme was a youth about seventeen years of age, he
chanced one summer morning to descend to the mew in which Sir Halbert
Glendinning kept his hawks, in order to superintend the training of an
eyas, or young hawk, which he himself, at the imminent risk of neck
and limbs, had taken from the celebrated eyry in the neighborhood,
called Gledscraig. As he was by no means satisfied with the attention
which had been bestowed on his favourite bird, he was not slack in
testifying his displeasure to the falconer's lad, whose duty it was to
have attended upon it.

"What, ho! sir knave," exclaimed Roland, "is it thus you feed the eyas
with unwashed meat, as if you were gorging the foul brancher of a
worthless hoodie-crow? by the mass, and thou hast neglected its
castings also for these two days! Think'st thou I ventured my neck to
bring the bird down from the crag, that thou shouldst spoil him by thy
neglect?" And to add force to his remonstrances, he conferred a cuff
or two on the negligent attendant of the hawks, who, shouting rather
louder than was necessary under all the circumstances, brought the
master falconer to his assistance.

Adam Woodcock, the falconer of Avenel, was an Englishman by birth, but
so long in the service of Glendinning, that he had lost much of his
notional attachment in that which he had formed to his master. He was
a favourite in his department, jealous and conceited of his skill, as
masters of the game usually are; for the rest of his character he was
a jester and a parcel poet, (qualities which by no means abated his
natural conceit,) a jolly fellow, who, though a sound Protestant,
loved a flagon of ale better than a long sermon, a stout man of his
hands when need required, true to his master, and a little presuming
on his interest with him.

Adam Woodcock, such as we have described him, by no means relished the
freedom used by young Graeme, in chastising his assistant. "Hey, hey,
my Lady's page," said he, stepping between his own boy and Roland,
"fair and softly, an it like your gilt jacket--hands off is fair
play--if my boy has done amiss, I can beat him myself, and then you
may keep your hands soft."

"I will beat him and thee too," answered Roland, without hesitation,
"an you look not better after your business. See how the bird is cast
away between you. I found the careless lurdane feeding him with
unwashed flesh, and she an eyas." [Footnote: There is a difference
amongst authorities how long the nestling hawk should be fed with
flesh which has previously been washed.]

"Go to," said the falconer, "thou art but an eyas thyself, child
Roland.--What knowest thou of feeding? I say that the eyas should have
her meat unwashed, until she becomes a brancher--'twere the ready way
to give her the frounce, to wash her meat sooner, and so knows every
one who knows a gled from a falcon."

"It is thine own laziness, thou false English blood, that dost nothing
but drink and sleep," retorted the page, "and leaves that lither lad
to do the work, which he minds as little as thou."

"And am I so idle then," said the falconer, "that have three cast of
hawks to look after, at perch and mew, and to fly them in the field to
boot?--and is my Lady's page so busy a man that he must take me up
short?--and am I of false English blood?--I marvel what blood thou
art--neither Englander nor Scot--fish nor flesh--a bastard from the
Debateable Land, without either kith, kin, or ally!--Marry, out upon
thee, foul kite, that would fain be a tercel gentle!"

The reply to this sarcasm was a box on the ear, so well applied, that
it overthrew the falconer into the cistern in which water was kept for
the benefit of the hawks. Up started Adam Woodcock, his wrath no way
appeased by the cold immersion, and seizing on a truncheon which stood
by, would have soon requited the injury he had received, had not
Roland laid his hand on his poniard, and sworn by all that was sacred,
that if he offered a stroke towards him, he would sheath the blade in
his bowels. The noise was now so great, that more than one of the
household came in, and amongst others the major-domo, a grave
personage, already mentioned, whose gold chain and white wand
intimated his authority. At the appearance of this dignitary, the
strife was for the present appeased. He embraced, however, so
favourable an opportunity, to read Roland Graeme a shrewd lecture on
the impropriety of his deportment to his fellow-menials, and to assure
him, that, should he communicate this fray to his master, (who, though
now on one of his frequent expeditions, was speedily expected to
return,) which but for respect to his Lady he would most certainly do,
the residence of the culprit in the Castle of Avenel would be but of
brief duration. "But, however," added the prudent master of the
household, "I will report the matter first to my Lady."

"Very just, very right, Master Wingate," exclaimed several voices
together; "my Lady will consider if daggers, are to be drawn on us for
every idle word, and whether we are to live in a well-ordered
household, where there is the fear of God, or amidst drawn dirks and
sharp knives."

The object of this general resentment darted an angry glance around
him, and suppressing with difficulty the desire which urged him to
reply in furious or in contemptuous language, returned his dagger into
his scabbard, looked disdainfully around upon the assembled menials,
turned short upon his heel, and pushing aside those who stood betwixt
him and the door, left the apartment.

"This will be no tree for my nest," said the falconer, "if this
cock-sparrow is to crow over us as he seems to do."

"He struck me with his switch yesterday," said one of the grooms,
"because the tail of his worship's gelding was not trimmed altogether
so as suited his humour."

"And I promise you," said the laundress, "my young master will stick
nothing to call an honest woman slut and quean, if there be but a
speck of soot upon his band-collar."

"If Master Wingate do not his errand to my Lady," was the general
result, "there will be no tarrying in the same house with Roland
Graeme."

The master of the household heard them all for some time, and then,
motioning for universal silence, he addressed them with all the
dignity of Malvolio himself.--"My masters,--not forgetting you, my
mistresses,--do not think the worse of me that I proceed with as much
care as haste in this matter. Our master is a gallant knight, and will
have his sway at home and abroad, in wood and field, in hall and
bower, as the saying is. Our Lady, my benison upon her, is also a
noble person of long descent, and rightful heir of this place and
barony, and she also loves her will; as for that matter, show me the
woman who doth not. Now, she hath favoured, doth favour, and will
favour, this jack-an-ape,--for what good part about him I know not,
save that as one noble lady will love a messan dog, and another a
screaming popinjay, and a third a Barbary ape, so doth it please our
noble dame to set her affections upon this stray elf of a page, for
nought that I can think of, save that she--was the cause of his being
saved (the more's the pity) from drowning." And here Master Wingate
made a pause.

"I would have been his caution for a gray groat against salt water or
fresh," said Roland's adversary, the falconer; "marry, if he crack not
a rope for stabbing or for snatching, I will be content never to hood
hawk again."

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