The Story of Maurice Lestrange. Being an account of his travels and adventures in Scotland during the year 1765

Preface

. Monsieur Lestrange is supposed to have written his narrative more than thirty years after he left Scotland ; but it is believed that the account which he gives of the condition of that country, and of the state of society there, at the time of his visit, is accurate in most respects. As to the latter portion of this tale, those who know the private history of Scottish families will recognise, in their present form, some incidents of an almost forgotten story of the past, though the names of Maurice Lestrange, Francis Arbuthnot, and Alison Carnegie, are not to be found in Volume XIX. of the State Trials, in the " Traditions of Edinburgh," or in any newspaper of that day. G. W. T. O. CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE I. I visit London, and meet my Kinsman Francis Areuthnot, ..... 9 II. We journey to Scotland, and take up our Quarters in Edinburgh, . . .23 III.

Mistress Alison Carnegie, . . .35 IV. The Assembly, . . . . .44 V. Describes a Tea Party and an Evening in an Oyster Cellar, ..... 59 VI. In which I dine with some Members of the Poker Club, ..... So VII. How we travelled to Perthshire in Midwinter, ...... 94 VIII. The Laird of Westermains, . . 104 IX. A Village on the Highland Line, . .114 X. In which James the Piper tells how he went out in the Forty-Five, . . . 123 XI. We go to visit at Craglowrie Castle, and are much alarmed in the course of the Evening, ...... 139 XII. I study the History of Scotland, and receive a Lesson in Curling, . . . .156 XIII. A very important Event takes place, after which I travel in the Highlands, . CONTENTS. VIII chapter page XIV. I return to Westermains, am introduced to Mistress Bella Kennedy, and obtain an insight into some matters of Religion, . 178 XV.

How Francis Arbuthnot quarrelled with the Laird of Westermains, . . .191 XVI. I receive bad News, and ride to Westermains by Night, ..... 203 XVII. " No Woman was ever in such a wretched Plight," ...... 215 XVIII. The Mystery deepens, .... 222 XIX. The Accusation, ..... 233 XX. Tells how I saw Loch Leven, and changed my Mind twice in one Day, . . . 249 XXI. The High Court of Justiciary, . . 261 XXII. Claudero, ...... 290 XXIII. In which I am entrusted with the Key of a Cellar, ..... 303 XXIV. "Timor Mortis conturbat me," . . 316 XXV. How I left Edinburgh, and once more crossed the Border, ..... 327 XXVI. A short Chapter, telling of a Talk about Money, and some other Matters, in the Abbey Church of St Albans, . . 339 XXVII. Tells what happened during my second Visit to London, ..... 347 XXVIII. Written, in the Year 1804, by the Hand of Gabrielle Alison Lestrange, . . THE STORY OF MAURICE LESTRANGE.

Chapter I

I VISIT LONDON, AND MEET MY KINSMAN FRANCIS ARBUTHNOT. It was in the autumn of the year 1764 that I first met Francis Arbuthnot. Though I was a Frenchman and he was a Scotsman, our families were connected by the ties of blood ; and, at one time, a frequent correspondence had been carried on between them. My grandfather was Patrick Arbuthnot, one of the Scottish officers who served under the Viscount Dundee in the army of James the Second, King of England, Scotland, and Ireland, who so long lived at Saint Germains as the guest of France. After the troubles in England, that unlucky sover eign having been compelled, by his rebellious subjects, to leave his kingdom because of his loyalty to the Catholic Faith, and Dundee having died in battle, brave and patriotic to the end, my grandfather and his brother-officers, seeing that, for a time at least, the royal cause was hopeless, sought a refuge on the shores of France.

Thereafter, during several years, they distinguished themselves on many occasions. Wherever glory was to be gained, or hardships were to be endured, there the brave Scots were found. And these gentlemen, though many of them were the cadets of noble houses, did not hesitate to shoulder muskets, and perform all the most arduous duties of private soldiers. But misfortune after misfortune came upon them. Though brave, they were poor, and being unable, after a time, to procure the good food and clothing to which they had been accustomed, they suffered terribly, and many of them died of fevers and other diseases brought on by the hardships of their new life. At last their condition became so desperate that, in order to obtain the means of buy ing food, they were compelled to sell all the valuables which they possessed, many of them heirlooms, such as silver-handled swords, snuff-boxes, seals, and rings, and even to barter, for a few ounces of bread, their cravats and other articles of clothing.

My grandfather was reduced to the direst extremity; but just when his fortunes had fallen to the lowest point, they suddenly rose again. One summer, I think it was the summer of 1693, he found himself quartered at a village in the north of France. Not far off were the lands and the chateau, of Lachasse, which for many generations had been the property of the family of Lestrange. Lachasse was then in the possession of Madame Gabrielle Lestrange, a beautiful woman, who was the childless widow of the last owner of the estate. Although the Scottish officers were poor, and often meanly clad, they were always received on equal terms by the best families in France ; and to make a long story short, the bravery, the patience, the sufferings, nay, even the poverty, of my grandfather so touched the heart of Madame, that she accepted him as her second husband.

He then, for several reasons which it is unnecessary that I should mention, changed his name, and was henceforth known as Patrick Lestrange. My father was the offspring of this marriage. He, in course of time, married and had a son, myself, Maurice Lestrange, born in the year 1733. I was an only child. When I was thirty years of age my father died. He had been a widower for some time, and I was thus left almost alone in the world. My fortune was ample, and I resolved to realise a project which I had long cherished, and make a journey to England and Scotland. The peace of Paris, which had just been signed, had put an end to the war, and had removed any difficulties which might have prevented a subject of the King of France from crossing the channel ; and I was well acquainted with the English language, which my father, who spoke it as fluently as French, had taught me from my youth.

As I have already said, a correspondence had for a long time been carried on between our family and our kinsmen in Scotland. I believe that, during the lifetime of my grandfather, this correspondence was chiefly political, and was connected with plots on behalf of the Stuarts, of whom, to the last day of his life, the old soldier was a devoted adherent, and whose restoration he always believed would, some day, be a fact accomplished. But all that was a thing of the past before I reached manhood, and the letters which came from Scotland to the chateau now con sisted merely of an exchange of compliments, and were becoming fewer and fewer every year. When I was a boy of about twelve, indeed, my father was on the point of offering to accompany the King's son, on that expedition to Scotland in which he covered him self with so much of glory.

He thought of doing so out of respect to the memory of his own sire. But he yielded to the entreaties of my mother, and remained at home, and before his death he confessed that, from what he had since heard of the character of that Prince, he doubted whether he possessed the qualities which would have made him acceptable to the majority of the English people. For myself, I had no desire to be involved in political intrigues, but I was very anxious to visit the famous island of which I had heard so much. Having carried my resolution into effect, I found myself in London in the month of November 1764; and it was while I was enjoying the sights of this great city, which is second only to Paris in riches and splendour, that I met Francis Arbuthnot. Our meeting was by a curious chance. I had gone one evening to the theatre.

The play, by-the-bye, was, if my memory does not deceive me after so many years, a comic opera called " The Guardian Outwitted." Well, in the course of the performance a party of gentlemen entered, and took their places near me, and soon I noticed that they were making me the subject of their conversation, probably because something in my appearance, in the fashion of my wig, perhaps, or in the shape of my coat, had revealed the fact that I was not an Englishman. Knowing that the English are often rude and in sulting in their manner to foreigners, and that, though it was unlikely they would make me a scene in the theatre, it was very possible that I might be after wards attacked in the street if I gave them any excuse for picking a quarrel, I took no notice of certain remarks, evidently intended for me to hear, which they made in loud whispers.

My indifference seemed to annoy them, and when the play was finished they followed me out of the theatre, evidently bent on mischief. After sunset the streets of London are dark and dangerous, infested by parties of young gentlemen of quality, who attack the passers-by, maltreating them, and sometimes, I have heard, even murdering them. I therefore walked rapidly in the direction of my hotel. They came after me, and were not ten paces behind when a gentleman met me. As he passed, one of the Englishmen accosted him. " Arbuthnot ! " he called out, " where are you going to ? Help us to upset this damned Frenchman." Resolving to take the first word, I instantly turned round and said, " At your service, gentlemen." They stopped in front of me, and seemed at a loss what to do next. They were all young, dressed in the height of fashion, and it was easy to perceive, by their disordered appearance, their flushed faces, and their excited voices, that they had been drinking; and although I may say that I was an expert in the use of the sword, yet, being no brawler, I began to think that I had fallen into an awkward scrape.

"At your service, gentlemen," I repeated; and drawing my sword, I stepped aside, and stood with my back to the wall. " The Gallic Cock shows fight," cried one who seemed younger and drunker than the rest. " Come on, Arbuthnot, my jolly nabob ! " The name " Arbuthnot," heard for the second time, suggested something. " One moment, gentlemen," I exclaimed, in a loud voice. " Will Mr Arbuthnot favour me with a few words of conversation ? " The man whom they called Arbuthnot seemed astonished, but he stepped forward on receiving this unexpected request, while his friends, to whom any thing was probably an amusement, regarded us with curiosity. I saw before me a tall, handsome man, of about my own age, dressed in a brown riding-coat, which, being left unbuttoned, showed a suit of purple velvet beneath.

He wore his own hair, which was jet black, without powder, and tied with a knot of crimson ribbon at the back of his neck. His face was sun burnt, and his dark grey eyes, which he fixed on me with a haughty stare, seemed to pierce one through and through. There was a something military in his aspect. " Well, sir ? " he said, taking off his large, three cornered hat, of the new fashion, politely, but with a somewhat exaggerated gesture, as if he was inclined to mock me. I seem, after all these long years, to see him as he stood before me, bowing till his hat almost touched the buckles of his shoes, and the others, in their brocaded waist coats and wide-skirted coats, nudging each other and laughing in a row behind him. "Well, sir?" he said. " Sir," I replied, returning his salutation, " I am, as your friends have said, a Frenchman ; but my grandfather was an officer in the brigade of the Viscount Dundee, and his name was at one time Arbuthnot."

" What," he exclaimed, " are you Maurice Lestrange, the son of old Pat Arbuthnot, who went to France ? " " The same," I replied. " Then blood's thicker than water, though old Pat did marry the French widow," he cried ; and turning to the group behind him he went on : " There has been a mistake. This gentleman is Mr Maurice Lestrange. I present him to you as my cousin." The Englishmen became grave, and bowed, and one of them was good enough to say that Mr Lestrange had behaved as a man of courage, and he had much pleasure in making his acquaintance. In short, they apologised handsomely ; and we all finished the evening together in a tavern near Covent Garden. It was thus I met Francis Arbuthnot. I soon knew all about him. He was the second son of a Scottish family, the Arbuthnots of Westermains, in the county of Perth, a branch of the same family as that to which my grandfather had belonged ; and he was my cousin in the wide sense in which that word is used in Scotland.

His elder brother, Thomas Arbuthnot, MA URICE LESTRANGE. 17 had come into possession of the family estate on the death of their father, and Francis was now a captain in a Highland regiment which had been raised, about four years previously, for service in India, where it distinguished itself at the bloody battle of Buxar, when the English defeated the Nabob of Oude, and laid the foundations of that great power which, unfortunately, they have since obtained in the East. Francis Arbuthnot had not been present at this en gagement, having received a stroke of the sun, on account of which he was sent home as an invalid. He had arrived in England only a few weeks before I met him, and I soon discovered that, even during so short a time, he had spent a large sum of money which he had brought with him from India, and was, indeed, already in debt.

He believed, however, that there was in his brother's hands a balance of the portion which he had inherited from their father ; and, in order to see about this, as well as because he was anxious to visit his relations once more, he was now about to leave London and travel to Scotland. When I heard this, I offered to accompany him. He was much delighted with the idea. We therefore despatched our heavy baggage by sea, and, having bought two stout horses to carry ourselves and our saddle-bags, we were soon ready for our long and troublesome journey. Late in the afternoon of our last day in London we were returning from a walk in B the country to the west of the town. I had often wished to see the Royal Palace of Kensington, and had persuaded Arbuthnot, who was in the habit of spending the hours between dinner and supper in the taverns and coffee houses, to leave his companions, and accompany me.

On our way back we passed along the road which leads eastwards from Kensing ton gravel-pits, with the large piece of ground which is called Hyde Park on our right, and some lonely fields upon our left. It was dark. Before us we saw the dim lights of the great city, over which a mist, creeping up the Thames from the sea, hung like a thick pall. As it was cold we hurried along, and had just reached Tyburn, where the houses begin, and where the country road strikes off to the north in the direction of Marybone and the village of Kilburn, when we heard loud cries of " Help, help ! " To our right was a lane which runs along the side of Hyde Park, just on the outskirts of the town, — a dangerous place, frequented by footpads even during the day. It was from there that the cries came. We ran a few paces down the lane, and saw a little man supporting himself by a crutch under his left arm, while, with a stick which he held in his right hand, he was vigorously defending himself against two ruffians, and calling "Help" and "Murder" at the top of his voice.

Just as we approached, one of them brought him to the ground with a blow on the head ; and they were about to despatch him when we rushed upon them. They instantly let go their victim and ran off. The man rose to his feet with difficulty, picked up his crutch, his hat, and a rough scratch-wig which had fallen off in the scuffle, put on the wig and hat, and addressed us. " I'm verra thankfu' to ye, gentlemen," he said. " Ye've been gude Samaritans to me the nicht. I had fallen amang thieves." " And when did you cross the Tweed, my friend ? ' said Arbuthnot, clapping him on the back. " I see," replied the other, " ye ken a Scots tongue when ye hear it. I crossed the Tweed three weeks ago, and I got to London yesterday, and lost my way the day, and I was like to lose my money, and my life into the bargain, if it hadna been for you.

Excuse me makin' sae free, but ye'll be fra the North yoursel ? " These words, though I quite understood them, were spoken in a dialect and with an accent which was un like anything I had heard since leaving France. It very much resembled the accent in which Ar buthnot spoke, but there was a difference which, somehow, led me to guess that the speaker was a man of an inferior social position. In the dim light it was impossible to see him clearly. " I'm an Arbuthnot, and that's Scotch enough for you, I'm thinking," was the reply. " An Arbuthnot," the cripple exclaimed. " That's good. Then I'll ask you to add one favour to another, and show me the way into the main streets o' the toon." " Come along," said Arbuthnot, and with the Scot between us we left the Park lane. " I just thought," our companion said, " I would tak' a walk aboot ; but it's a big place, you know, and I went wrang.

It's no easy walking on one leg, and I was just crawling along, and thinking it wasna very safe, perhaps, when the two you sent awa' jumped oot on me. You came up in the nick o' time." " A sight of Captain Arbuthnot was quite enough for them," I said, with a laugh. The cripple stopped, and looked very hard at me. "You'll be French, I'm thinkin'," he remarked. I could not help being amused at the fellow's sharpness, for I do not think that I speak English badly. " An alliance between the Scots and the French is no new thing," he went on, " and we've beat the English to-day." " I'm going to give this fellow a bottle," Arbuthnot whispered to me. " He is a queer sort of devil." Then he spoke louder, " Will you crack a bottle, fellow countryman, with Mr Lestrange and me ? " " It's my turn now answered the little man, MA URICE LESTRANGE. 21 " cracked bottles are better than cracked heads, and gay coats have often empty pockets."

Arbuthnot nodded to me as if to signify that we should humour him ; and he afterwards told me that we would have given mortal offence by refusing such an offer from a Scotsman. I heard the man muttering to himself, " Arbuthnot, Lestrange, Arbuthnot, Lestrange, well, well." Half an hour later we entered a tavern, where the cripple called for wine. I had now a better oppor tunity of observing him. He was a short man of about fifty, with broad shoulders and long arms. His right leg was well formed, but the other was apparently withered up, and hung down quite useless, swinging about in a manner painful to behold, as he moved with the assistance of his crutch. His face was, on the whole, pleasing ; the forehead shapely, the eyes bright and full of intelligence ; but his mouth, which had an expression of shrewdness and humour, suggested a love of satire, and a wit which was cynical rather than kindly.

When the waiter brought the wine, he filled the glasses, and, raising his own, said, " Here's to the King" ; and then, to our astonishment, he sang, in a very untuneful voice : " Professions many have I seen, And never have disturbed been, I've seen the Tory party slain, And Whigs exulting o'er the plain : I've seen again the Tories rise, And with loud shouting pierce the skies, Then crown their King, and chase the Whig From Pentland Hill to Bothwell Brig." The moment he had finished singing he filled the glasses again, saying, as he did so, " If the verses halt the poet's lame too. " Then he adjusted his crutch, settled his hat on his head, and said, " You'll be thinking I've more jaw than judgment. But I won't hinder you longer with my company. I thank you once more. Good-night to you, gentlemen."

With these words he left the room. Bidding him farewell, we followed him to the door of the tavern, and watched him as he went down the street, with his crutch and stick, and the withered leg swinging about, as he limped away. I little thought what strange things were to happen before I saw him again.

Chapter II. We Journey To Scotland, And Take Up Our Quarters In

EDINBURGH. Next morning we started for the North. We travelled by way of Barnet, which was our first stage, and thence by the east road, visiting many places of which I had often heard, such as York, Durham, and Berwick on the Tweed. I would gladly have spent a longer time on the journey, but my com panion was in a hurry to see his kinsfolk, and to arrange his money matters with his brother. Nevertheless, with all our haste, we made but slow progress. The roads, bad at all times, were in some places almost impassable at that inclement season of the year, even for well-mounted travellers like our selves. We met a few coaches, which were with difficulty dragged along, through mud and snow, by four or six horses ; and I was told that the greatest nobles of Scotland, as well as the commoners, used to discard their coaches, and ride on horseback, the whole way from Scotland to London when they went to attend the meetings of Parliament. *3 At last, one evening, when our horses were nearly worn out, we reached Edinburgh.

It was dark as we entered the city. We passed close to the Palace of Holyrood House, a group of gloomy buildings, which lay in the shadow of a huge hill, above which the wintry moon appeared, hidden, from time to time, by driving clouds. Before us there was a long, steep street, paved with stones, on both sides of which the houses rose to an immense height, with projecting balconies and tall gables which seemed to overhang the pavement ; innumerable windows sent forth gleams of light into the frosty air. A few lamps glimmered fitfully here and there, and we could see many people moving about, or standing in groups at the doorways. Oyster women, with baskets on their backs, were uttering cries which I, at least, was not able to under stand. Sedan chairs were carried along, and a few coaches jolted up or down.

We had not gone far when Arbuthnot startled me by shouting, in a loud voice, " Caddy," and before I could ask him what he meant, a badly-dressed man, with red hair, who carried a paper lantern in his hand, ran up to us, and stood as if awaiting our orders. " Are we on the right way to the White Horse Close ? " asked Arbuthnot. The man with the lantern, muttering, so far as I could hear, something about our having " come too far," turned our horses, and led us back for a short MAURICE LESTRANGE. 25 distance, and then round a corner into another street, narrower than the one which we had left. He next conducted us under an archway, and we found our selves in a court-yard which was lighted by a solitary lamp fixed over the door of a rambling and half ruinous building, which formed the opposite side of the court-yard to that on which we had entered.

" Here's the White Horse Inn, the best in Edin burgh," said Arbuthnot, throwing the reins on his horse's neck, " and a miserable hole it is. But we'll sleep here to-night, and look for lodgings to-morrow." We dismounted. The man who had guided us to this dismal place unstrapped our saddle-bags, and carried them to the door of the inn, at which he knocked. A slatternly servant girl, in a short petti coat and with bare feet, appeared, and invited us to enter, saying that the ostler would see to the horses. Arbuthnot gave our guide a penny, with which he appeared satisfied ; and we followed the waitress into a dark passage, which smelt most villainously. We were then shown into a parlour, and the girl having lighted a pair of candles, we informed her that we wished a fire, supper, and beds. A bright fire was soon blazing on the hearth.

A badly-cooked supper of fish, mutton, and potatoes was laid upon the table. The table-cloth was dirty, the plates were cracked, and the knives and forks looked as if they were seldom cleaned. But the wine, which was Bordeaux and of excellent quality, to some extent consoled us for these discomforts ; and before very long we called the servant, and asked to be shown our beds. She told us that she could make up one bed, which we might share, in the apartment in which we had supped ; and, accordingly, in this uncomfortable manner we passed the night. In the morning we heard that our trunks had arrived at the Port of Leith, and Arbuthnot, having sent a messenger to fetch them, went in search of lodgings, while I, the day being very fine though cold, set out to see the town. Thirty years have passed away since that morning, and Edinburgh is now, I believe, much changed ; but at the time of my visit it was almost the same as it had been in the reign of Francis the Second, who, when he was Dauphin, married Mary of Scotland, and thus became, on the death of his father Henry, King of that country as well as of France.

The chief street, which is as fine as any in Europe, is built upon a long ridge which ascends, for about a mile, from the Palace of Holyrood House up to a strong castle which crowns the summit of a lofty rock. The Palace, which was the first place I visited, is in the form of a square. In this square there are stables and coach-houses, and all round are handsome apart ments which are inhabited by some of the nobility, who are allowed to occupy them as a favour ; but to these I did not obtain access. I saw, however, a chapel which had once been very fine ; and it in terested me to hear that when this chapel was de stroyed by the wickedness of the mob at the Revolu tion, a vault was discovered in which was found the embalmed body of Magdalene of Valois, who was the first wife of one of the Scotch Kings, who, when she died, married another French Princess, Mary of Guise.

When I left the Palace I walked up the street, which at this part is called the Canongate. and was very much astonished at its width, and at the tall houses, of stone and wood, with richly carved galleries and pointed roofs, which rose to a giddy height on both sides. I was surprised to find that the merchants here paint on their shops, in gay colours, pictures of the goods which they sell : a French custom, which I had not observed in London. As I sauntered along I was overtaken by the man who had led our horses on the previous evening, and who, I suspect, had watched me in the hope of obtaining employment. He showed me the hotels of the Duke of Queens berry, the Count of Murray, and of other noblemen whose names I forget. These mansions are large, and have pleasant gardens behind them. There are many churches in Edinburgh : more than twelve, I think, and all Protestant.

Everyone is compelled to attend them, the city being ruled, to a great extent, by the clergy, of whom the people stand in great awe. The chief church is that of Saint Giles, a great build ing, divided into four separate churches. In one of these the clergy of the Church of Scotland, which is quite different from that of England, hold a meeting every year. This meeting, called the General Assembly, was at one time a hot-bed of treason and rebellion ; but since the Hanoverian Princes came to England, the Scottish clergy have become peaceable and obedient to the laws. At one end of this Church stands an old building, which was formerly the residence of the Provost of Saint Giles, the canons and choristers living in the neighbouring houses. It is now the prison. I mention it because, though I did not pay much attention to it then, yet, as will hereafter appear, a time came when I thought more about it than about any other spot on earth, and when it was the centre of all my hopes and all my fears.