Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 16

by Unknown

He lifted his eyes as he spoke, to look again at the bright moon, and saw before him, palpable to his waking intelligence, the identical figure which had appeared to him in the Castle of Stirling. The light brought out his form in full perfection, and a long shadow thrown upon the floor of the tent gave an additional evidence of his presence; the scar upon his cheek and the staphylomatic orb were apparent, and proved his identity; and his look and manner indicated a purpose similar to that he had announced on the occasion of his prior appearance.

"He whom the gods wish to destroy," said the figure, "is first by them deprived of reason; and thy disregard of my counsel showeth that thou art bent on thine own ruin. Thy father lieth there" (pointing his finger)—"I will lead thee to his tent; and, see! there lieth beside thee on that couch a sword. What need of more? Why not in pity end his woes and life together? That bright moon will glory in the sight of a son imbruing his hand in the blood of a parent—her light will be incarnadined by the running stream of life—but water will wash the hands of the parricide. Come, follow! Dost thou hesitate? Why, then, this warlike array?"

"Fiend or angel," cried the prince, "which art thou? Are the counsels of heaven couched in irony, or am I advised by a messenger of hell? Give thy thoughts another and a clearer form, and satisfy me that thou art well commissioned for the counsel of youth, and I will hail thee friend. Of sage advisers, with hair as white as thine, and speech as strange, circuitous, and wild, I have enough—my soul is torn by their contests for the mastership of my royal will. I'd give an earldom of ten thousand acres for ten words winged with the wisdom of above. Speak!—what art thou?"

"All that is good comes from the skies," replied the man; "and mortals, to attain it, are not required to trust alone to the vicarious powers which live in that blue light of the moon's silver glory. The triumph of God's wisdom soundeth through man's heart. Thou hast heard it, and heeded it not. The soft and solemn notes of goodness, suited to the gravity of knowledge that tendeth to salvation, have not awakened thee; and the harsh tones of stimulating irony have, as a last resource, been tried on the obdurate heart of filial disobedience. Why more? Hast thou forgot our meeting in the Castle of Stirling? Renounce thy vain speculations on the origin of my mission and the nature of this form, which, thou seest, casteth a shadow on the ground, and listen to the counsel which is independent of the tongue of man or angel that pronounceth it. Agree to thy father's terms; hasten to his bosom, fall on it, weep away the dregs of thy disobedience, and rejoice in the composing and healing virtues of the fatted calf."

Having said these words, the figure glided quickly out of the tent; and, though James immediately rose and followed, he could see no trace of the extraordinary being who thus haunted him, and counselled him, apparently for his good. He called some of his attendants, and asked of them if they had seen any person leave his tent; but they answered in the negative; and, though he personally searched among the tents, and even visited the camp of the sutlers, he could find no trace of the mysterious counsellor. He returned to his tent, and again threw himself on his couch. This vision was at least no dream. All the powers of Shaw, and all the sceptical raillery of those who laughed his father's credulous belief in dreams and divinations to scorn, could not, he was satisfied, drive from his mind the effects produced by the appearance and language of this extraordinary visiter. He began to think that the wisdom of his father, whose maxim was, that there is more in nature than man's shallow philosophy can fathom, was truer and better lore than the self-sufficient and profane knowledge of his noble advisers; and, though he had no evidence that the figure was an unincorporated essence, but rather suspected that it was made of flesh and blood like himself, there was an impressiveness and solemnity in his thoughts and manner of delivering them, which justified the maxim he had himself delivered, that wisdom may come from heaven by other means than the mediation of celestial messengers. The train of reflections which followed were grave and sage; the feelings of a son who had injured his father, and wished to make amends, acquired an ascendency where they should never have lost their power, and a resolution to agree on the morn to the terms of accommodation offered, and thus obey the counsel of the mysterious visiter, was formed before slumber overtook his distracted mind.

Early in the morning, the council of nobles again met, and the discussions were resumed as to the expediency of accepting the offers of peace. The prince sat listening to the arguments in a mood of gloomy abstraction, from which he appeared to struggle to get free, and, at last starting up, he put an end to the strife of contending tongues by delivering solemnly his changed opinion.

"We have all heard," he said, "that there is great wisdom in night counsel (consilium in nocte)—forgive me—I do not say in dreams, or visions, or consultations of the heavens, but in the weighing of rational arguments in the balance of the judgment, when there is no disturbing cause to shake the scales, and no prejudice to add a false weight to the deductions of a biassed reasoning. I stand in a position different from you all. You are fighting against your king, I against my father. You are seeking what is offered to you by the terms in question; I am fighting for what death or superannuation alone can bestow—a king's crown or a vice-regent's tiara; and I am offered what I scarcely deserve—an indulgent father's forgiveness and affection. Why should I hesitate, when, by standing out, I may lose the crown and my father's love, while, by acquiescing, I insure the one at present, and retain the other by a sure expectancy? The words of Argyle have sat on my heart all night. If I live till my father die, a crown and a coffin are equally certain to me; and I shall put on the one and lie down in the other with feelings better befitting the heir of a kingdom on earth, and one in heaven, by acting as becometh a good son, than those that can result from a consciousness of disobedience. Our commissioners, therefore, have my authority for agreeing to the terms of peace."

This speech, so different from the one of the previous day, was received with loud murmurs of dissatisfaction from the leading rebels, who calculated with certainty on the steadiness of a youth, who, having been untrue to his father, might safely have been suspected of a tendency to a dangerous vacillation as regarded his new colleagues. The numbers on the side of the prince were, however, great—perhaps amounting to a majority—so that the discontented nobles were obliged to suppress their chagrin, and permit the commissioners to go through the ceremony of accepting the terms of accommodation. The treaty was therefore concluded in the course of the day.

The monarch, acting upon the supposition that everything was amicably settled, withdrew his army, and retired back upon Edinburgh, where, in the excess of his gratitude to those who had brought about a result so beneficial to the kingdom, and so gratifying to the feelings of a father, he bestowed upon several of the nobles and knights substantial marks of his royal favour. The Earl of Crawford was created Duke of Montrose, Lord Kilmaurs was raised to the rank of Earl Glencairn, and the Lairds of Balnamoon, Lag, Balyard, and others, received grants of land. All was settled, as the weak, but good, monarch thought, amicably and lastingly. Yet how vain are the anticipations of mortals! At the very time when a species of jubilee was celebrating in Edinburgh, on the re-organisation of the court and the restoration of peace and tranquillity, the uncompromising rebel lords were triumphing in another victory over the mind and sentiments of the prince. The versatile youth having survived the solemn impression made on his mind by his nocturnal counsellor, was as ready as ever to listen to the rebellious advice of the nobles, who, trusting to their power over him, had secretly kept together the army, which they had merely cantoned in various parts of the south. The monarch had scarcely rested himself in the Castle of Edinburgh, when he was informed that the same fierce faction had resumed their ambitious schemes, and were again assembled, with the prince at their head, in more formidable array than before.

The instant this intelligence reached Edinburgh, the king's friends who had remained in the city urged him to re-assemble his army without delay, and put a total end to the insurrection, by a quick and decisive blow. The loyal nobles were active in their measures, and collected, in a very short time, their retainers; while summonses were issued to all those who had returned home, and especially the lords of the north, to assemble their clans, and meet the king's troops at Stirling, whither his majesty intended to repair in person. The commands were most readily obeyed; the popularity of the cause of the father against the son was very great, and had considerably increased since the breach of faith which the latter and his rebel colleagues had displayed in not adhering to the late solemn treaty; and in a very short time the royal army exhibited an enlargement of its ranks, which justified expectations of a speedy settlement of this unnatural strife. Abandoning the Castle of Edinburgh, the monarch approached Stirling, where, having placed himself at the head of his army, he met and attacked with considerable spirit the forces of his son, which having dispersed, he forced them across the Forth, and immediately after demanded admittance into his Castle of Stirling. This request was refused by Shaw, the governor; and before preparations could be made for forcing a surrender, or, indeed, before a decision was come to whether an attack should, in the circumstances, be resorted to, intelligence was brought that the antagonist forces had re-assembled, and were encamped in strong array on the level plain above the bridge of the Torwood.