The Monastery
, a priest!-lame
gather in the s
bark not-how s
vagrants to th
k before the
ess neat-handed
w-wreath battle
RMAT
colour and the mien of health, and became wasted, wan, and feeble. She appeared to have no formed complaint; yet it was evident to those who looked on her, that her strength waned daily. Her lips at length became blenched and her eye dim;
ney," she said, "he should be welcome; for the prayers an
or the lady's want of eagerness to avail herself of ghostly counsel, and Martin was despatched with such haste as Shagram would m
le Walter de Avenel was in very weak health in the Tower of Glendearg, and desi
s dispossessed of his lands, and slain by the Southron-May not the lady come hi
er," answered the Sacristan, "
n go to her-Knowest thou if she hath aught
resided at Glendearg since her husband's death, well-nigh
ntry-side!" said the Abbot. "Ho! ho! ho!" an
ds the jest of his superior.-Then added, with a hypocritical shuffle, and a sly twin
rate, until the Abbot should
esting, Father Philip, take thou thy riding
id the Sa
relaxed-heresy gathers force like a snow-ball-the multitude expect confessions and preachings from the Benedictine,
ntage to the holy monast
ay, have been benefactors to the Abbey. Away with thee instantly, brother; ride night and day, an it be necessary, and let men see how diligent Abbot Boniface and his faithful children are in the execution of their spiritual duty-toil not deterring them, for the glen is five miles in length-fear no
slowly to finish his luncheon in the refectory, and the Sacristan, with no very good will, accompanied old Martin in his return to Glendearg; the greatest
ce. Elspeth watched him with great anxiety. She observed there was that on his brow which rather resembled a person come from hearing the confession of some enormous crime, than the look of a confessor who resigns a reconciled penitent, not to ea
thou knowest not what-What avails clearing the outsid
r," said Elspeth, but half understanding what he said, and beginning with her
ns can well be; the foulness of which I speak is of that pestilential heresy which is daily becoming
me Elspeth, crossing herself, "h
ould say she is free from heretical opinions. Alas! they fly about like the pestilence by noon-day, and infect even th
I had almost said, as weel as
and what doth she read?
en that was-she now serves the family-says she can write-And for reading, she h
allegiance as a true vassal-on your faith as a Cat
roperty, was accessible by another door. Of all her effects the book was the last she would have thought of securing, for of what use or interest could it be in a family who neither read themselves, nor were in the habit of seeing any who did? so that Dame Elspeth had no difficulty in possessing herself of the volume, although her heart all the while accused her of an ungenerous and an inhospitable part towards her friend and inmate. The double power of a landlord and a feudal superior was before her eyes; and to say truth, the boldness, with which she might otherwise have resisted this double authority, was, I g
d, after turning over the leaves, "Now, by mine order, it is as I suspected!-My mule, my mule!-I
devil's work?" said Dame E
ly Scripture. But it is rendered into the vulgar tongue, and therefore, by the
"Good Father, you must instruct mine ignorance better; but lack of wit cannot be a de
did our mother Eve seek to have knowledge of good and e
peth. "Oh, if she had dealt by the co
nded with its holy pleasure. I tell thee, Elspeth, the Word slayeth-that is, the text alone, read with unskilled eye and unhallowed lips, is like those strong medicin
said the poor woman, "yo
he end of one of his old sermons,)-"This I speak not so much of the rectors, curates, and secular clergy, so called because they live after the fashion of the seculum or age, unbound by those ties which sequestrate us from the world; neither do I speak this of the mendicant friars, whether black or gray, whether crossed or uncrossed; but of the monks, and especially of the monks Benedictine, reformed on the rule of Saint Bernard of Clairvaux, thence called Cistercian, of which monks, Christian brethren-sister, I would say-great is the happiness and glory of the country in possessing
ce, and the doctrine he gave forth, and by no means easy on the subject of the book, which her co
der's want of habitude of quick motion, were such, that twilight came upon him ere he had nearly cleared the narrow valley. It was indeed a gloomy ride. The two sides of the vale were so near, that at every double of the river the shadows from the western sky fell upon, and totally obscured, the eastern bank; the thickets of copsewood seemed to wave with a portentous agitation of boughs and leaves, and the very crags and scaurs seemed higher and grimmer than they had appeared to the monk while he was travelling in daylig
nperceived. He drew up his bridle, reduced his mule to her natural and luxurious amble, instead of the agitating and broken trot at which, to his no small inconvenience, she had hitherto proceeded, and, wiping his brow, gazed
er, and that of the many fine bridges which have since been built across that classical stream, not one then existed. There was,
pier, an angle to the current of the stream. The masonry continued solid until the pier rose to a level with the two abutments upon either side, and from thence the building rose in the form of a tower. The lower story of this tower consisted only of an archway or passage through the
ig
t of the river. He was entitled to a small toll or custom for the passage, concerning the amount of which disputes sometimes arose between him and the passengers. It is needless to say, that the bridge-ward had usually
ally existed at a small hamlet about a mile and a half above Melrose, called from
which is the most entire, has a door towards the north, and I suppose another opposite one toward the south, which I could not see without crossing the water. In the middle of this tower is a projection or cornice surrounding it: the whole is hollow from the door upwards, and now open at the top, near which is a s
t night for the purpose of killing salmon by torch-light. Mr. John Mercer of Bridge-end recollects, that about fifty years ago the pillars were visible
Give an hundred markis of gowd sae rei
rds of Whytbank, was the Baron
munity for the numerous pilgrims who visited the shrine, the bridge-keeper waxed restive, and was supported by his lord in his resistance. The controversy grew animated on both sides; the Abbot menaced excommunication, and the keeper of the bridge, though unable to retaliate in kind, y
h gives a curious idea of the insecurity of the times. The river was not in flood, but it was above its ordinary level-a heavy water
excellent friend, Peter, be so kind as to lower the drawbridge. Peter, I
nt, he went quietly to bed, after reconnoitring the monk through his loop-hole, observing to his wife, that "riding the water in a moonlight night would d
ig
he rustic obstinacy of Peter, he began, nevertheless, to persuade himself that the passage of the river by the ford was not only safe, but pleasant. The banks and scattered trees were so beautifully reflected from the bosom of the dark str
stonishment to see a female there at that time of night. But he was, in all honest service,-and if a step farther, I put it upon his own conscience,-a devoted squire of dames. After observing the maiden for a moment, although she seemed to take no notice of his presence, he was moved by her dis
shrine of Saint Mary's; and that possibly this fair maiden might be one of his family, travelling alone for accomplishment of a vow, or left behind by some accident, to whom, therefore, it would be but right and prudent to use every civil
ccept his offer; and while the good monk, who, as we have hinted, was no great cavalier, laboured, with the pressure of the right leg and the use of the left rein, to place his mule with her side to the bank in such a position that the lady might mount with ease, she rose from the ground with rather porte
ig
e from the counter of the mule, and began to rise upon her side. Philip lost his presence of mind,-which was at no time his most ready attribute, the mule yielded to the weight of the current, and as the rider was not attentive to keep her head turned up the river, she drifted downward, lo
we, the moon
d ripple are da
he night raven,
ed along be
broad branches s
re dancing in m
nestlings," the
ere morn in h
oln corpse is
share with the
I
we, the moon
n gleam on the
er shower on t
g willows that
ey, both turr
tir for the
he chapel are l
er Philip, shoul
I
we, the moon
ift through sh
rock the e
ilent, dar
isen from the f
his candle of d
look, and you'
d glares with h
V
r fishing, whom
an, or a ma
riest that must f
crosses to vi
the Kelpy reply
the warder, he lock
me to my co
ayman, love
quil sheet of water, caused by a strong wear or damhead, running across the river, which dashed in a broad cataract over the barrier. The mule, whether from choice, or influenced by the suctio
his collar, she gave him two or three good souses in the watery fluid, so as to ensure that every other part of him had its share of wetting, and then quitted her hold when he was so near the side that by a slight effort (of a great one he was incapable) he might scramble on shore. This accordingly
! the black b
een Berwick wi
ave ye, and bl
land that go s
ead grew dizzy, and, after staggering a few steps onward and runni