The Brownie of Bodsbeck, and Other Tales Volume Ii Part 16

FOOTNOTE:

[Footnote 1: From several parts of this traditionary tale it would appear, that it is a floating fragment of some ancient allegorical romance, the drift of which it is not easy to comprehend.]

CHAPTER IV.

Great was the consumpt of victuals at the Abbey during the stay of the royal visitor!--the parsimonious brethren were confounded, and judged that the country would to a certainty be eaten up, and a dearth of all the necessaries of life ensue on the Border. When they beheld the immense droves of bullocks--the loads of wild hogs and fallow-deer that arrived daily from the royal forests of Ettrick and the mountains of the Lowes, together with the flocks of fat black-headed wedders,--they pressed their hands upon their lank sides, looked at their spare forms, and at one another; but not daring to make any verbal remarks, they only shaked their heads, and looked up to heaven!

Victuals were again wearing short. Gudgel, the fat caterer for that immense establishment, was out riding from morn till even in search of fat things; he delighted in the very sight of a well-fed sleek animal; it was health to his stomach, and marrow to his bones. It was observed, that, whenever he came in sight of one, he stroaked down his immense protuberance of paunch with both hands, and smacked his lips. He had been out the whole day, and was very hungry; and when hungry, he enjoyed the sight of a fat animal most. Gudgel certainly fed by the eye as well as the mouth; for it was noted, that when he was very hungry, he would have given the yeomen any price for a well-fed beast.

He had been out the whole day--had procured but little stuff, and that not of the first metal--but, on his way home, he heard of a fine well-fed boar at Eildon-Hall; so he rode off the road, and alighted to take a look of him. In a little triangular inclosure, at one corner of the yard, there he beheld the notable boar lying at his ease, with Mumps in his bosom. Of the dog he took no notice, but the sight of the boar exhilarated him; he drew in a great mouthful of breath, closed his lips, puffed out his cheeks, and made his two hands descend with a semi-circular sweep slowly down over the b.u.t.tons of his doublet. It is impossible to tell how much the sight of such a carcase delighted Gudgel!--Immoderately fat himself, his eye feasted on every thing that was so; he could not even pa.s.s by a corpulent man, nor a pampered overgrown matron, without fixing a keen glance upon them, as if calculating exactly, or to a nearness, how much they would weigh, sinking offal.

"Oh, gracious heaven! what a fine hog! Goodman Fletcher, could you think of putting such a delicious morsel as that by your masters? For shame, goodman, not to let me know before this time of such a prize as this!--The very thing!--No words: the hog is mine. Name your price--Good security, Goodman Fletcher--a king and a priest--I am so glad I have found him--I'll have him slaughtered, and cut neatly up, as I shall direct, before I leave the house."

A piece of sad news this for the poor boar! (Croudy the shepherd, that once was.) When Gudgel p.r.o.nounced the last sentence, the animal sprung to his feet, gave a great snuff, and grunted out a moan that would have pierced any heart but Gudgel's. "St Elijah!" said he, "what a fine animal!" and gave him a lash with his whip as he rose. Mumps snarled, and tried to bite the voluptuary in return for the unprovoked attack on his master.

Precisely about the same time that Gudgel alighted at Eildon-Hall, the two lovely and mysterious sisters met at their accustomed place in the Abbey Walk, for it chanced to be the few minutes of their appearance in mortal frame. Their eyes had still the wild unearthly dash of sublimity in them; and human eye could not scan to which state of existence they pertained, but their miens were more beautiful and serene than when they last met.

"I give you joy, dear sister," said the one, "of our happy release! Our adversary is baffled and driven from his usurped habitation--Our woeful work of annihilation will henceforth cease, for the evil principle shall not, as we dreaded, prevail in this little world of man, in which we have received for a time a willing charge. Say what more is to be done before we leave these green hills and the Eildon Tree."

"Much is yet to be done, my beloved Ellen," answered the other. "As I was this day traversing the air in the form of a wild swan, I saw the Borderers coming down in full array; with a Chieftain of most undaunted might at their head. We must find means to warn the haughty Douglas, else they will cut his whole retinue to pieces; and the protector of the faithful must not fall into the hands of such men as these."

"He hath preyed on the vitals of his subjects," said she that spoke first; and as she spoke she fixed her eyes on the ground in a thoughtful att.i.tude.

"It is meet he should," said the other--"And think ye he will not meet with his guerdon better where he is than among these freemen of the Border? Think not so seriously of this matter, for it will not abide a thought--from the spider to the king, all live upon one another!--What numbers one overgrown reptile must devour, to keep the balance of nature in equipoise!"

The two lovely sisters, as she spoke this, held each other by the hand; their angelic forms were bent gently forward, and their faces toward the ground; but as they lifted these with a soft movement towards heaven, a tear was glistening in each eye. Whether these had their source from the fountain of human feelings, or from one more sublimed and pure, no man to this day can determine.

"And then what is to become of the two little changelings?" said the last speaker. "All the spells of priests and friars will avail nought without our aid.--And the wild roe-deer? And the boar of Eildon? He, I suppose, may take his fate--he is not worthy our care farther.--A selfish grovelling thing, that had much more of the brute than the man (as he should be) at first--without one principle of the heart that is worthy of preservation."

"You are ever inclined to be severe," said the other. "If you but saw the guise in which he is lying with his faithful dog, I think your heart would be moved to pity."

"If I thought there was one spark of the heavenly principle of grat.i.tude in his heart, even to his dog," said she, "I would again renovate his frame to that image which he degraded; but I do not believe it.--Mere selfishness, because he cannot live without his dog."

"Here is Philany's rod," answered the other, "go, and reconnoitre for yourself, and as you feel so act."

She took the golden wand, and went away toward Eildon Hall; but her motion over the fields was like a thing sailing on the wind. The other glided away into the beechen grove, for there were voices heard approaching.

"Let us proceed to business, Goodman Fletcher," said Gudgel. "I insist on seeing that fine animal properly slaughtered, blooded, and cut up, before I go away. I have a man who will do it in the nicest style you ever beheld." The boar looked pitifully to Gudgel, and moaned so loud that Mumps fell a howling. "And I'll tell you what we'll do," continued Gudgel; "we'll have his kidneys roasted on a brander laid on the coals, and a stake cut from the inside of the shoulder.--How delicious they will be!--Pooh! I wish they were ready just now--But we'll not be long--And we'll have a bottle of your March beer to accompany them.--Eh? Your charge may well afford that, goodman--Eh?"

The boar made a most determined resistance; and it was not till after he was quite spent, and more hands had been procured, that he was dragged at last forcibly to the slaughter-house, and laid upon the killing-stool, with ropes tied round his legs; these they were afraid were scarcely strong enough, and at the request of the butcher, Pery lent her garters to strengthen the tie. Never was there a poor beast in such circ.u.mstances! He screamed so incessantly that he even made matters worse. His very heart was like to break when he saw Pery lend her garters to a.s.sist in binding him. Mumps was very sorry too; he whined and whimpered, and kissed his braying friend.

The noise became so rending to the ears, that all who were present retired for a little, until the monster should be silenced. The butcher came up with his bleeding-knife, in shape like an Andro Ferrara, and fully half as long--felt for the boar's jugular vein, and then tried the edge and point of his knife against his nail--"He has a hide like the soal of a shoe," said the butcher; "I must take care and sort him neatly." And so saying he went round the corner of the house to give his knife a whet on the grinding-stone.

At that very instant the beautiful angelic nymph with the golden rod came into the court-yard at Eildon-Hall, and hearing the outrageous cries in the slaughter-house, she looked in as she was pa.s.sing, that being the outermost house in the square. There she beheld the woful plight of the poor boar, and could not help smiling; but when she saw honest Mumps standing wagging his tail, with his cheek pressed to that of the struggling panting victim, and always now and then gently kissing him, her heart was melted with pity. The dog cast the most beseeching look at her as she approached, which when she saw her resolution was fixed. She gave the monster three strokes with her wand, at each of which he uttered a loud squeak; but when these were done, and some mystic words of powerful charm uttered, in half a quarter of a minute there lay--no bristly boar--but the identical Croudy the shepherd! in the same garb as when transformed at the Moss Thorn; only that his hands and feet were bound with straw ropes, strengthened and secured by the cruel Pery's red garters.

"Bless me an' my horn!" said Croudy, as he raised up his head from the spokes of the killing-stool; "I believe I'm turned mysel again!--I wad like to ken wha the bonny queen is that has done this; but I'm sair mistaen gin I didna see the queen o' the fairies jink by the corner. I wonder gin the b.l.o.o.d.y hash will persist in killing me now. I'm fear'd Gudgel winna can pit aff wantin' his pork steaks. May Saint Abednego be my s.h.i.+eld, gin I didna think I fand my ears birstling on a brander!"

The butcher came back, singing to himself the following verse, to the tune of _Tibby Fowler_, which augured not well for Croudy.

"Beef stakes and bacon hams I can eat as lang's I'm able; Cutlets, chops, or mutton pies, Pork's the king of a' the table."

As he sung this he was still examining the edge of his knife, so that he came close to his intended victim, without once observing the change that had taken place.

"Gude e'en t'ye, neighbour," said Croudy.

The butcher made an involuntary convulsive spring, as if a thunder-bolt had struck him and knocked him away about six yards at one stroke. There he stood and stared at what he now saw lying bound with the ropes and garters, and the dog still standing by. The knife fell out of his hand--his jaws fell down on his breast, and his eyes rolled in their sockets.--"L----d G----d!" cried the butcher, as loud as he could roar, and ran through the yard, never letting one bellow abide another.

The servants met him, asking what was the matter--"Was he cut? Had he sticked or wounded himself?"

He regarded none of their questions; but das.h.i.+ng them aside, ran on, uttering the same pa.s.sionate e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n with all the power that the extreme of horror could give to such a voice. Gudgel beheld him from a window, and meeting him in the entry to the house, he knocked him down.

"I'll make you stop, you scoundrel," said he, "and tell me what all this affray means."

"O L----d, sir! the boar--the boar!" exclaimed the butcher as he raised himself with one arm from the ground, and defended his head with the other.

"The boar, you blockhead!" said Gudgel,--"what of the boar? Is he not like to turn well out?"

"He turns out to be the devil, sir--gang an' see, gang an see," said the butcher.

Gudgel gave him another rap with his stick, swearing that they would not get their brandered kidneys, and pork steak from the inside of the shoulder, in any reasonable time, by the madness and absurdity of that fellow, and waddled away to the slaughter-house as fast as his posts of legs could carry him. When he came there, and found a b.o.o.by of a clown lying bound on the killing-stool, instead of his highly esteemed hog, he was utterly confounded, and wist not what to say, or how to express himself. He was in a monstrous rage, but he knew not on whom to vend it, his greasy wits being so completely bemired, that they were incapable of moving, turning, or comprehending any thing farther than a grievous sensation of a want not likely to be supplied by the delicious roasted kidneys, and pork steak from the inside of the shoulder. He turned twice round, puffing and gasping for breath, and always apparently looking for something he supposed he had lost, but as yet never uttering a distinct word.

The rest of the people were soon all around him--the Goodman, Pery, Gale, and the whole household of Eildon-Hall were there, all standing gaping with dismay, and only detained from precipitate flight by the presence of one another. The defrauded Gudgel first found expression--"Where is my hog, you scoundrel?" cried he, in a tone of rage and despair.

"Ye see a' that's to the fore o' him," said Croudy.

"I say, where is my hog, you abominable caitiff?--You miserable wretch!--you ugly whelp of a beast!--tell me what you have made of my precious hog?"

"Me made o' him!" said Croudy, "I made naething o' him; but some ane, ye see, has made a man o' him--It was nae swine, but me.--I tell ye, that ye see here a' that's to the fore o' him."

"Oh! oh!" groaned Gudgel, and he stroaked down his immense flanks three or four times, every one time harder than the last. "Pooh! so then I am cheated, and betrayed, and deceived; and I shall have nothing to eat!--nothing to eat!--nothing to eat!--Goodman Fletcher, you shall answer for this;--and you, friend beast, or swine, or warlock, or whatever you may be, shall not 'scape for nought;" and, so saying, he began to belabour Croudy with his staff, who cried out l.u.s.tily; and it was remarked somewhat in the same style and tenor, too, as he exhibited lately in a different capacity.

The rest of the people restrained the disappointed glutton from putting an end to the poor clown; and notwithstanding that appearances were strangely against him, yet, so well were they accustomed to Croudy's innocent and stupid face, that they loosed him with trembling hands, Pery being as active in the work as any, untying her red garters. "I know the very knots," said she,--"No one can tie them but myself."

"By the Rood, my woman! gin I war but up, I'll _knot_ you weel eneuch,"

said Croudy; and if he had not been withheld by main force, he would have torn out her hair and her eyes. He, however, accused her of being a witch, and took witnesses on it; and said, he would make oath that she had changed him into a boar on such an evening at the Moss Thorn.

Pery only laughed at the accusation, but all the rest saw it in a different light. They all saw plainly that Croudy had been metamorphosed for a time by some power of witchcraft or enchantment--they remembered how Mumps had still continued to recognise and acknowledge him in that degraded state; and hearing, as they did, his bold and intrepid accusal of Pery, they all judged that it would stand very hard with her.

When Gudgel had heard all this, he seized the first opportunity of taking Pery aside, and proposed to her, for the sake of her own preservation, instantly to change the clown again; "And, as it is all one to you," said he, "suppose you make him a little fatter--if you do so, I shall keep your secret--if you do not, you may stand by the consequences."

Pery bade him, "Look to himself,--keep the secret, or not keep it, as he chose;--there were some others, who should be nameless, that were as well worth changing as Croudy."

Gudgel's peril appeared to him now so obvious, and the consequences so horrible, that his whole frame became paralysed from head to foot. In proportion with his delight in killing and eating the fat things of the earth, did his mind revolt at being killed and eaten himself; and when he thought of what he had just witnessed, he little wist how soon it might be his fate. He rode away from Eildon-Hall a great deal more hungry and more miserable than he came. The tale, however, soon spread, with many aggravations; and the ill-starred Pery was taken up for a witch, examined, and committed to prison in order to stand her trial; and in the mean time the evidences against her were collected.