Women of England

by Bartlett Burleigh James

I wish'd alive again.'"

Of the thirty-seven persons in the castle, Lady Towie, her stepson, her three young children, and her retainers, none escaped the holocaust; the roof of the keep fell in and carried them down into the flames. So perished one of the bravest and most spirited women of her times. The retribution which, in the later circumstances of the feud, was wrought upon those responsible for this massacre does not concern us here. The heroism of Lady Towie's defence of Corgaff Castle has furnished a theme for other poets than the obscure bard whom we have quoted; the bravery to the point of rashness which she displayed endears her to the heart of the Scotchman who glories in the deeds of courage of his race.

One of the sweetest stories of devotion to be found in the history of Scotland's women is that which centres about the knightly house of Cromlix and Ardoch. Sir James Chisholm was born in the early part of the sixteenth century, and, as a youth, was sent to France for the completion of his education. Before his departure he had exchanged with fair Helen Stirling, of the house of Ardoch, vows of undying affection. This young lady, because of her beauty, had achieved wide local celebrity, and throughout the countryside she was called "Fair Helen of Ardoch." The two young people had been brought up in each other's society, and, as they grew in years, began to feel for each other that tenderness of sentiment which, while they were yet in their teens, led to mutual avowals of love. Their parents were not averse to the match, after the young people should have arrived at a more suitable age for marriage. The course of their love ran smoothly, until the separation came by Sir James going abroad. As their relatives were not favorable to a correspondence between the young people, the good offices of a friend were invoked. He received the letters of both parties, and saw that they were sent to their respective destinations. The correspondence went happily on; his letters were full of pleasing gossip about the belles and beauties of France, of society and manners, everything, indeed, that a young lover of reflective and poetic temperament would be likely to pen to the lady of his heart from whom he was separated by a distance which could be made communicable only by correspondence.

Almost a year had sped away when the letters received by Helen became less frequent and then stopped. She wrote again and again, but in vain; she received no replies. The agent of the young people then professed to write himself to her recreant lover, and informed her that he had discovered that the attachment of the young man for her had waned and that he was to marry a French beauty. His condolence was apparently so sincere and delicately phrased that when he proffered her his love there was in her breast some degree of kindly sentiment toward him, which, while of a very different nature from her feeling for the one who had discarded her, was yet such as to lead her to assent finally to his suit; not, however, before many considerations had been skilfully brought to bear upon her, not the least of which were the desires of her kindred.

The wedding day was set, and before the assembled guests, forming a brilliant gathering, the bride appeared in rich adornings, but pale, her bosom, heaving with sobs. The ceremony was performed. Then occurred a dramatic scene; some whisper seemed to reach the bride's ear; to the amazement of the guests, she turned upon her husband and denounced him as the blackest of traitors. She declared that her own letters and those of her lover had been kept back, and that she knew that her lover had landed in Scotland and would vindicate his honor. She vowed in the presence of Heaven that she would never acknowledge as her husband the man she had just wedded, nor would she ever leave for him her father's roof. Amid shouts of derision, the false bridegroom hastily left the house. The young lover had indeed landed in the country, and was hastening to his beloved that he might prove to her that he had been grossly slandered and she grievously deceived. The knowledge of the situation did not reach him in time to forestall the plans of his rival, and not until his arrival home did he find out the full facts of the case and have his mind entirely relieved of the thought of his love's perfidy. Legal measures were speedily taken for the dissolution of the hateful bonds, and the young lady was united to the one to whom, notwithstanding her acquiescence in the wishes of others, her heart had been true.

The maid of Ardoch's story has been variously told. The most familiar form of it is that found in Robert Burns's Observations on Scottish Songs. The romance has taken strong hold upon the hearts of the Scotch race, through a simple melody which has held the interest of the people for nearly three centuries. This ballad was written by the young lover himself on board the ship that was bearing him back to Scotland. The first verse is as follows:

"Since all thy vows, false maid,

Are blown to air,

And my poor heart betrayed