It was one beautiful summer afternoon, while strolling along the pleasant country lanes, which looked charming with their avenues of stately oak trees, whose branches were tenanted by scores of squirrels, that I came upon an elderly gentleman who was sitting smoking. I bade him “Good-day,” and asked him for a match; which he gave me and invited me to sit down beside him and have a smoke and a chat. In the course of our conversation I discovered that my friend was no common man. When, in reply to his enquiry, I told him that the headquarters of my regiment were at Edinburgh, he said, “and what a disgrace some of the men have brought upon your regiment.” Every one of the guards at Holyrood Palace had been found ‘beastly’ drunk, excepting one man, who was keeping sentry at the magazine on the top of Arthur’s Seat. The circumstance was especially discreditable as His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales was staying at Holyrood. “I understand (continued the speaker) that they broke into the wine cellar, and stole some fifty bottles of port and champagne. Most of that they drunk, until when found they were ‘blind palatic’.” “Yes, sir” said I, “I believe it is all true. All the men are put back for court-martial except the man at the magazine, who held his post all night without being relieved.” “Serves the rascals right,” retorted the old gentleman. “In my time of soldiering every man jack of them would have been shot—the sergeant as well.” “Then, sir,” said I, “you have been in the Army?” “Yes,” he replied, “I have served a little time, and took part in the Peninsular War.” But beyond this my unknown friend would tell me nothing about his military career.
A VISIT TO THE “BIG HALL”
We next fell to talking about the big hall which lay in front of us. My friend asked me if I should like to look over it, and on my saying that I should, he directed me on the way to the mansion, telling me to go a little further up the lane, then turn in at the wicket gate and follow the footpath across the lawn. “Then,” said he, “you’ll come to the kitchen door. Knock, and ask for a horn of beer.” “But whose word shall I give?” I asked, “Tell them an old gentleman called Duncan Dhew, in black knee breeches and leggings has sent you, and it will be all right. And then (added he) if you wish it you can go further into the park by crossing another path over the lawn.” I thanked the kind old gentleman, and took my departure.
THE SCOTCH LASSIE’S REGRET
It was not long before I was at the old hall. I rapped at the kitchen-door according to orders, and a woman of about forty summers made her appearance. When I mentioned the name given me by the old gentleman she laughed heartily, and said that if I would come in I should have a horn or two of beer—if I liked. She was a pleasant-spoken Scotchwoman, and before I took my leave she said chaffingley that it was a pity she wasn’t twenty years younger, for then she might have been “my lassie.”
A BEAUTIFUL LANDSCAPE
Quitting the house I took into the park, and to say that I was delighted with the scene is not in anywise doing justice to the feelings I experienced at the time. I can truly say that I have never seen anything so lovely since—the splendid walks, with their long avenues of wide-spreading and noble-looking trees; the bright gardens and sparkling fountains; the babbling burns, crossed here and there by pontoon bridges; and last, but by no means least, the panoramic bits of the distant landscape visible through the openings in the trees—all these went to make up a veritable Arcadia. Then, as I walked further into the park I saw numbers of wild deer, which looked up at me as I passed by as much as to say, “What business have you to intrude on our sacred rights?” Well, I walked and walked, until I thought I was not coming to the end of the park that day. But soon the path dropped, and disclosed a little valley, in which were located about a half-dozen thatched dwellings. Here, I found, lived the gamekeeper and a few farm labourers. At the house I called at the wee laddies and lassies wondered whatever I was; they had never before seen a “walking target.” The gamekeeper told me that if I was stationed at Greenlaw Barracks I had walked in a very curious direction, for I was thirteen miles, by the ordinary road, out of my course. I was exceedingly ill at ease to hear this pronouncement, and told him that it would be “hot” for me if I was not in before the “tattoo,” or the “last post.” The keeper, I found, was a true Scotchman, and of a very obliging nature. He proffered to take me through the wood to a place called Milton Bridge. We started, and were soon at the village mentioned, where, at the “Fishers’ Tryst,” we had a “drappie o’ whuskey” over the matter. Then we parted, and I got into barracks in time.
BACK TO AULD REEKIE
The very next morning after this interesting day the order came that our company was to return to Edinburgh, and give place for another company. My stay at Greenlaw had extended over six months. Now for “Auld Reekie!” Soon after we arrived there was a great review at the Castle, the Queen and Prince Albert Victor inspecting the troops.