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THOUGH muckle good came
o’ the paction between the Gordons and the laird o’ Strath-gimock at
Luimnaghuie, this wasna to be the | end o’ their strife, and the warst
came hin’ most.
Henry Gordon, the auld laird o’ the Knoc, was killed, as I told ye, in
the great raid o’ the year 1592. Haean* nae family, his next brother,
Alister, that succeeded him, was a man i’ the prime o’ life, an’ being
o’ a peaceable disposition, he an’ Black Airter got on nae that ill for
lang.
Knoc had a large family, maistly sons, and Strathgirnock had but an only
dochter, an’ what was mair natural, as they were neighbours’ bairns,
than that ane o’ the lads o’ the Knoc should fa’ in love wi’ the young
lady o’ Strathgimock?
They had a’ their courtan’ ado unkent to her father; an’ as George Brown
used to say, it *s nae aften that muckle good comes o’ that way o’t They
baith kent weel that he would never allow them to marry gin he could
help it, an’ that he would get into a terrible rage gin he thought they
were makan’ up for ony sic thing.
Had it been the young laird, there wouldna hae been sae muckle fear but
that matters might maybe hae been settled between them; but it was only
the third son, an’ that would never da Ower an’ forby that, Forbes had
intended that his dochter should marry her ain cousin, young Skellater,
an’ so keep the property in the family. But young folk’s love, as George
Brown used to say, is unco wilfu’, an’ winna bend to auld folk’s
schemes. Though young Skellater came sometimes to see her, she never
liket him, an’ would marry him upon no account She hadna keepit this ony
ways hidden Tae her father, and he was very vexed; but he wouldna cross
his lassie, as he ca’d her, for he was very, very fond o’ her. But had
he ken’t that it was Francie Gordon that had wiled awa’ his baimie’s
heart he wouldna hae ta’en the matter sae calmly.
It was the auld, auld story o’ secret, forbidden love ower again; an’ a
time came when it couldna be concealed. The young folks got the Baron o’
Braichley, a gentleman o’ discretion that everybody respeckit, to tak’
in hand to brak’ the news to her father.
Forbes at first got pale as death; but at last says he, “ I’ll no hinder
them, Braichley. They can take their way, and I’ll take mine.”
The baron didna like his manner ava’. It was unnatural He expected he
would hae flown into a rage, an’ fa’en out on the whole tribe o’ the
Gordons; an’ he would hae liket that better. It would soon hae blown
past, an’ then his “ain lassie ” would hae been his ain lassie still But
he got into no rage, though he was a passionate man, made no answer,
but, as gin he were speaking to himsel’, just said, “They can take their
way, I’ll take mine.”
The young folks didna see ony o’ the danger in this that the Baron saw,
an’ were only glad that he hadna flown into a bigger rage; an’ so the
wedding was arranged to take place in a fortnight
They had a queer custom then o’ days: the bridegroom gaed a thiggan*
among the friends, an’ got presents o’ com an’ ither gear in token o’
their well wishes. It wouldna maybe hae been thought quite becoman’ in
the young laird to hae done this, for the meaning o’t was to set him up
in the warF; but for the ither sons it was the common fashion.
Weel, Fnuicie Gordon would be just like his neighbours, an’ so out he
sets wi’ a servant an’ a horse an’ creels; an* he would make no
exception o’ his intended gude-father, thinkan’ that maybe in this way
he might manage to get a little into his favour. But he had sair
mista’en the temper o’ the laird Forbes looked upon it as an intended
insult to him an’ his dochter; an’ happenan’ to be walkan’ about when
the callant came, he took up his sword to drive him awa’ like a hungry
dog, as he said But in drawan’ a blow at him, the scabbard flew aff, an’
Francie Gordon’s head row’d awa’ like a ba’ on the loan.
The laird didna appear to be much astonished or very sorry at the
accident, gin it was an accident, for all he said was—
“It’s a sad business this. Howsomever, what’s ance done canna be mendit
If the Gordons winna get a bridal, they’ll get a burial, an’ that’s aye
something.”
It was nae doubt an awfu’ savage deed o’ blood, an’ might weel be
expected to be as savagely avenged; but for some reason or other the
friends o’ the slaughtered youth thought it best to have Forbes first
condemned at a head court to be holden at the Foot o’ Gaim. Before the
court he was summoned to appear; but expecting little justice at their
hands, instead of doing so, he made aff to advise wi’ his auld friend,
Fleeman Mor.
It was thought very unlucky for a man under guilt or even charge of
murder to enter another man's house. So when the laird came to Greystone,
he wouldna come in for a’ that Fleeman could entreat him. The weaver had
not yet heard what had happened at Strathgirnock, but dreaded that there
was something very far wrang wi9 the laird when he wouldna come in, an’
says he—
“Gin ye winna come in, laird, ye’ll surely tak’ a drink o’ ale at the
door.”
This was to be a token to him that, whatever was the matter, he would
stand by him, and not betray him. The laird therefore accepted the
offer, saying—
“I will do so, weaver; I’m not out of the need of a drink of your ale
the day.”
“And ye’re very welcome to it,” says Fleeman, “it would be ill my pairt
nae to stand by ye, whatever be ado.” “Weel, it’s this,” says the laird,
after he had ta’en a good drink. “Ye’ve heard nae doubt of the wedding
that we were to have had, and wondered muckle at it, I daresay. But I
can tell ye there’ll be no wedding o’t The chid had the impudence to
come to me when he was out at his bridal thigging, and I drew a blow at
him with my sword in the scabbard, and the Gordons are vowing
vengeance.”
“I dinna see,” says the weaver, “that they ’re needan’ to mak’ sae
muckle ado for a blow wi’ the scabbard.”
“Aye, aye, Fleeman,” says the laird, “but the scabbard flew off.”
“Ochone, ochone, laird,” cried Fleeman; an’ looked on the ground a good
while maist bewildered. Then turning to Forbes says he—
“What do you think the Gordons will do?”
“As to that, weaver,” answers the laird, “ye may be sure they’ll do
their worst If I ken’t as well what I should do myself I would be much
relieved in my mind They ^ meet to-day at a head court at die Foot o’
Gmiro to take counsel; and if they could get a hold of me I pot no ^ but
they would take a abort way of clearing lang scores between us. But what
do you think should be dooe? Should I appear or not?
“I think you should," said Fleeman; “to be awa' would be to tak* an
guilt; but nae alane. Ill buckle on my graith, an’ go down wi’ ye to see
gin a quiet settlement can be made.”
When the twa made their appearance on the brae-head above the haugh
where the Gordons were met, some of them proposed that they should at
once seize them, an’ execute justice on Forbes for the slaughter of
their kinsman. But an auld wise sennachie among them steps forward, an
says he—
“I’ve nae doubt, men, but ye could do what ye say, but ye behove to
consider that they are prepared to defend themselves to the very last if
we try force on them, or they wouldna be here to-day; and gin we try to
take them by the strong hand it will cost the life o’ mair than ane o’
ourselves, and so make matters waur than they are. They’re baith m o’ no
ordinar1 strength an’ in desperate case, an1 my that we should not
attempt violence on this occasion."
The discretion of this advice was soon seen, sent a message that he was
willing, wi’ second, to have the case decided by purpose challenged ony
twa Got enter the lists with him.
Fleeman died in as the troubles o’ the civil war were breaking out; and
didna live to see the evil that befell his friend, the laird, which, as
George Brown said, would hae brought down his grey hairs wi’ sorrow to
the grave.
I would be much relieved in my mind. They are to meet to-day at a head
court at the Foot o’ Gaim to take counsel; and if they could get a hold
of me I put no doubt but they would take a -short way of clearing lang
scores between us. But what do you think should be done? Should I appear
or not?”
“I think you should,” said Fleeman; “to be awa’ would be to tak’ on
guilt; but nae alane. I’ll buckle on my graith, an’ go down wi’ ye to
see gin a quiet settlement can be made.”
When the twa made their appearance on the brae-head above the haugh
where the Gordons were met, some of them proposed that they should at
once seize them, an’ execute justice on Forbes for the slaughter of
their kinsman. But an auld wise sennachie among them steps forward, an’
says he—
“I’ve nae doubt, men, but ye could do what ye say, but ye behove to
consider that they are prepared to defend themselves to the very last if
we try force on them, or they wouldna be here to-day; and gin we try to
take them by the strong hand it will cost the life o’ mair than ane o’
ourselves, and so make matters waur than they are. They’re baith men o’
no ordinar’ strength an’ in desperate case, an’ my counsel is that we
should not attempt violence on this occasion.”
The discretion of this advice was soon seen, when Forbes sent a message
that he was willing, wi’ Fleeman as his second, to have the case decided
by combat, an’ for this purpose challenged ony twa Gordons that micht
choose to enter the lists with him. There was nae twa that did choose;
and so the Gordons returned home without doing anything. Forbes and
Fleeman likewise returned home, and this was the last time they were
ever in idler’s company.
Fleeman died in peace in his ain house in Greystone just as the troubles
o’ the civil war were breaking out; and didna live to see the evil that
befell his friend, the laird, which, as George Brown said, would hae
brought down his grey hairs wi’ sorrow to the grave.
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