The origin of the tradition is involved in the obscurity of antiquity. It is related of him that, on the eve of a battle in which he was to be engaged, a weird woman prophesied to him, that if his wife (who was a daughter of Macdougall of Lorn), on the morning when he was to set out on his expedition, had his breakfast prepared before he was ready for it, good fortune would betide him; if, on the other hand, he had to call for his breakfast, he would lose his life in the conflict. It seems he was not blest with an affectionate spouse; for, on the morning in question, after waiting a considerable time, he had at last to call for his breakfast, not, however, without upbraiding his wife, by informing her of what was to be the consequence of her want of attention. The presentiment that he was to fall may have contributed to the fulfilment of the prophecy, which was accomplished as a matter of course. This part of the story probably refers to one of the Maclaines of Lochbuy, who was married to a daughter of Macdougall of Lorn, and who, with his two eldest sons, was killed in a feud with their neighbours, the Macleans of Duart, which had nearly proved fatal to the family of Lochbuy. This happened in the reign of King James IV.
It has not come to our knowledge for what cause the penance was imposed on Eoghan a chinn bhig of giving warning to all his clan of their latter end—whether for deeds done in this life, or whether (as some people imagine that departed spirits act as guardian angels to the living) he is thus permitted to show his regard for his friends by visiting them in their last moments, to prepare them for another world. The latter would appear to be the most probable, from a circumstance reported of him, which seems rather at variance with the general character of a harbinger of death. It is said that he took a great fancy to a near relation of the family of Lochbuy (called, by way of patronymic, John M‘Charles), to whom he paid frequent visits, and communicated several particulars respecting the future fate of the family. Whenever he wished an interview with his favourite, he would come to his door, from which he would not stir till John M‘Charles came out; when he would pull him up behind him on his Pegasus, and ride all night over hills, rocks, woods, and wilds, at the same time conversing with him familiarly of several events that were to happen in the Lochbuy family, one of which is said to have been accomplished, about forty years ago, according to his prediction.
This tiny personage, though light of limb, has the reputation of being, like all other unearthly beings, endued with supernatural strength, of which his exploits with John M‘Charles afford an instance. Not many years ago, a man in Mull, when returning home about dusk, perceived a person on horseback coming towards him. Supposing it might be some person whom he knew, he went up to speak to him; but the horseman seemed determined to pass on without noticing him. Thinking he observed something remarkable in the appearance of the rider, he approached close to him, when he was unexpectedly seized by the collar, and forcibly dragged about a quarter of a mile by the stranger, who at last abandoned his hold, after several ineffectual attempts to place his terrified victim behind him, which, being a powerful man, he successfully resisted. He was, however, so much bruised in the scuffle, that it was with difficulty he could make his way home, although he had only about half a mile to go. He immediately took to his bed, which he did not leave for some days, his friends wondering all the time what could be the matter with him. It was not until he told the story, as we have related it, that the adventure was known. And as, after the strictest inquiry, it could not be ascertained that any person on horseback had passed that way on the evening on which it took place, it was, by the unanimous voice of all the seers and old wives in the neighbourhood, laid down as an incontrovertible proposition, that the equestrian stranger could be no other than “Eoghan a chinn bhig.”
In whatever way the tradition originated, certain it is that, at one time, it was very generally, if not universally, received over the island of Mull and adjacent parts. Like other superstitions of a similar nature, it has gradually given way to the more enlightened ideas of modern times, and the belief is now confined to the vulgar.
CHAPTER II.
Guy Mannering.
CURIOUS PARTICULARS OF SIR ROBERT MAXWELL OF ORCHARDSTON.
(Groundwork of the Novel.)
ir Robert Maxwell of Orchardston, in the county of Galloway, was the descendant of an ancient Roman Catholic family of title in the south of Scotland. He was the only child of a religious and bigoted recluse, who sent him, while yet very young, to a college of Jesuits in Flanders, for education—the paternal estate being, in the meantime, wholly managed by the boy’s uncle, the brother of the devotee, to whom he resigned the guardianship of the property, in order that he might employ the remainder of his days exclusively in acts of devotion. In the family of Orchardston, as, indeed, in most great families of that day, the younger branches were but ill provided for, and looked to the inheritor of the family estate alone for the means of supporting their rank in society: the liberal professions and the employments of trade were still considered somewhat dishonourable; and the unfortunate junior, nursed with inflated ideas of consequence and rank, was doomed in after-life to exercise the servility and experience the mortification of an humble dependant. In this case, the culpable negligence of the father had transferred the entire management of a large estate to his younger brother, who was so delighted in the possession, that he resolved to retain it, to the exclusion of the rightful heir. He consequently circulated a report that the boy was dead; and on the death of the old baronet, which took place about this period, he laid claim to the title and estate. In the meantime, our young hero was suffering (very reluctantly) the severe discipline of the Jesuits’ college, his expenses being defrayed by occasional supplies sent him by his uncle, which were represented to him as the bounties of the college—a story which he could not discredit, as he had been placed there at an age too young to know distinctly either who he was or whence he came. He was intelligent and docile; and was deemed of sufficient capacity to become hereafter one of their own learned body, with which view he was educated. When at the age of sixteen, he found the discipline and austerities of a monastic life so ill suited to his inclination, that, on a trivial dispute with the superior of his college, he ran away, and enlisted himself in a French marching regiment. In this situation he sustained all the hardships of hunger, long marches, and incessant alarms; and, as it was in the hottest part of the war between France and England, about the year 1743, it may easily be imagined that his situation was by no means enviable. He fought as a foot-soldier at the battle of Dettingen; he was also at the battle of Fontenoy; and landed, as an ensign in the French troops, at Murray Frith, during the rebellion of 1745. He joined the rebels a little before the battle of Prestonpans, marched with them to Derby, and retreated with them to Scotland. He was wounded at the battle of Culloden, and fled with a few friends to the woods of Lochaber, where he remained the greater part of the summer 1746, living upon the roots of trees, goats’ milk, and the oatmeal and water of such peasants as he durst confide in. Knowing, however, that it would be impossible to continue this course of life during the winter, he began to devise means of effecting his return to France—perfectly unconscious that, in the country where he was suffering all the miseries of an outcast criminal, he was entitled to the possession of an ample estate and title. His scheme was to gain the coast of Galloway, where he hoped to get on board some smuggling vessel to the Isle of Man, and from thence to France. The hardships which he suffered in the prosecution of this plan would require a volume in their description. He crept through by-ways by night, and was forced to lie concealed among rocks and woods during the day. He was reduced almost to a state of nudity, and his food was obtained from the poorest peasants, in whom only he could confide. Of this scanty subsistence he was sometimes for days deprived; and, to complete his misfortunes, he was, after having walked barefooted over rocks, briars, and unfrequented places, at length discovered, seized, and carried before a magistrate near Dumfries. As his name was Maxwell, which he did not attempt to conceal, he would have suffered as a rebel, had not his commission as a French officer been found in the lining of his tattered coat, which entitled him to the treatment of a prisoner of war. This privilege, however, only extended to the preservation of his life. He was confined in a paved stone dungeon so long, that he had amused himself by giving names to each stone which composed the pavement, and which, in after-life, he took great pleasure in relating and pointing out to his friends. An old woman, who had been his nurse in childhood, was at this time living in Dumfries, where he was a prisoner; and having accidentally seen him, and becoming acquainted with his name, apparent age, etc., felt an assurance that he was the rightful Sir Robert Maxwell. The indissoluble attachment of the lower orders in Scotland to their chiefs is well known; and, impelled by this feeling, this old and faithful domestic attended him with almost maternal affection, administering liberally to his distresses. After an interview of some weeks, she made him acquainted with her suspicion, and begged leave to examine a mark which she remembered upon his body. This proof also concurring, she became outrageous with joy, and ran about the streets proclaiming the discovery she had made. This rumour reaching the ears of the magistrates, inquiry was made, the proofs were examined, and it soon became the general opinion that he was the son of the old baronet of Orchardston. The estate lay but a few miles from Dumfries; and the unlawful possessor being a man of considerable power, and of a most vindictive disposition, most people, whatever might be their private opinion, were cautious in espousing the cause of this disinherited and distressed orphan. One gentleman, however, was found, who, to his eternal honour, took him by the hand. A Mr. Gowdy procured his release from prison, took him to his own house, clothed him agreeably to his rank, and enabled him to commence an action against his uncle. The latter was not inactive in the defence of his crime, and took every pains to prove his nephew to be an impostor. Chagrin and a consciousness of guilt, however, put an end to his existence before the cause came to a hearing; and Sir Robert was at length put into possession of an estate worth upwards of ten thousand pounds a year. He now began to display those qualities and abilities which had been but faintly perceptible in his former station. He now discovered an ingenuous mind, an intellect at once vigorous and refined, and manners the most elegant and polished. His society was courted by all the neighbouring gentry; and, in the course of time he married a Miss Maclellan, a near relation of the family of Lord Kirkcudbright; with this lady he lived in the most perfect happiness for many years. He joined in the prevalent practice of farming his own estate, and built a very elegant house on an eminence overlooking the Nith. An imprudent speculation in the bank of Ayr, however, compelled him to abandon the seat of his ancestors. He had reserved a small pittance, on which he and his lady lived the latter part of their days. This calamity he bore as became a man familiar with misfortune; and he continued the same worthy open-hearted character he had ever been. The reduction of his fortune served only to redouble the kindness and cordiality of his friends. He died suddenly in September, 1786, whilst on the road to visit one of them—the Earl of Selkirk. He left behind him no issue; but his name is still remembered with ardent attachment.”—New Monthly Magazine, June, 1819.