It was not long ere he had an opportunity of fulfilling his promises. Ben-Baynac having one night, in the want of better amusement, entertained himself by inflicting an inhuman castigation on Clashnichd, she lost no time in waiting on James Gray, with a full and particular account of it. She found him smoking his cutty, and unbuttoning his habiliments for bed; but, notwithstanding the inconvenience of the hour, James needed no great persuasion to induce him to proceed directly along with Clashnichd to hold a communing with their friend Ben-Baynac the great ghost. Clashnichd was a stout sturdy hussey, who understood the knack of travelling much better than our women do. She expressed a wish that, for the sake of expedition, James Gray would mount himself on her ample shoulders, a motion to which the latter agreed; and a few minutes brought them close to the scene of Ben-Baynac’s residence. As they approached his haunt, he came forth to meet them, with looks and gestures which did not at all indicate a cordial welcome. It was a fine moonlight night, and they could easily observe his actions. Poor Clashnichd was now sorely afraid of the great ghost. Apprehending instant destruction from his fury, she exclaimed to James Gray that they would be both dead people, and that immediately, unless James could hit with an arrow the mole which covered Ben-Baynac’s heart. This was not so difficult a task as James had hitherto apprehended it. The mole was as large as a common bonnet, and yet nowise disproportioned to the natural size of his body, for he certainly was a great and a mighty ghost. Ben-Baynac cried out to James Gray, that he would soon make eagle’s-meat of him; and certain it is, such was his intention, had not James Gray so effectually stopped him from the execution of it. Raising his bow to his eye when within a few yards of Ben-Baynac, he took an important aim; the arrow flew—it hit—a yell from Ben-Baynac announced its fatality. A hideous howl re-echoed from the surrounding mountains, responsive to the groans of a thousand ghosts; and Ben-Baynac, like the smoke of a shot, evanished into air.[A]
Clashnichd, the Ghost of Aulnaic, now found herself emancipated from the most abject state of slavery, and restored to freedom and liberty, through the invincible courage of James Gray. Overpowered with gratitude, she fell at James Gray’s feet, and vowed to devote the whole of her time and talents towards his service and prosperity. Meanwhile, being anxious to have her remaining goods and furniture removed to her former dwelling, whence she had been so iniquitously expelled by Ben-Baynac the great ghost, she requested of her new master the use of his horses to remove them. James observing on the adjacent hill a flock of deer, and wishing to have a trial of his new servant’s sagacity or expertness, told her those were his horses,—she was welcome to the use of them; desiring, when she had done with them, that she would inclose them in his stable. Clashnichd then proceeded to make use of the horses, and James Gray returned home to enjoy his night’s rest.
Scarce had he reached his arm-chair, and reclined his cheek on his hand, to ruminate over the bold adventure of the night, when Clashnichd entered, with her “breath in her throat,” and venting the bitterest complaints at the unruliness of his horses, which had broken one-half of her furniture, and caused more trouble in the stabling of them than their services were worth. “Oh! they are stabled, then?” inquired James Gray. Clashnichd replied in the affirmative. “Very well,” rejoined James, “they shall be tame enough to-morrow.”
From this specimen of Clashnichd the Ghost of Craig-Aulnaic’s expertness, it will be seen what a valuable acquisition her service proved to James Gray and his young family; of which, however, they were too speedily deprived by a most unfortunate accident. From the sequel of the story, and of which the foregoing is but an extract, it appears that poor Clashnichd was but too deeply addicted to those guzzling propensities which at that time rendered her kin so obnoxious to their human neighbours. She was consequently in the habit of visiting her friends much oftener than she was invited, and, in the course of such visits, was never very scrupulous in making free with any eatables that fell within the circle of her observation.
One day, while engaged on a foraging expedition of this description, she happened to enter the Mill of Delnabo, which was inhabited in those days by the miller’s family. She found the miller’s wife engaged in roasting a large gridiron of fine savoury fish, the agreeable effluvia proceeding from which perhaps occasioned her visit. With the usual inquiries after the health of the miller and his family, Clashnichd proceeded, with the greatest familiarity and good humour, to make herself comfortable at the expense of their entertainment. But the miller’s wife, enraged at the loss of her fish, and not relishing such unwelcome familiarity, punished the unfortunate Clashnichd rather too severely for her freedom. It happened that there was at the time a large caldron of boiling water suspended over the fire, and this caldron the beldam of a miller’s wife overturned in Clashnichd’s bosom! Scalded beyond recovery, she fled up the wilds of Craig-Aulnaic, uttering the most melancholy lamentations, nor has she been ever since heard of to the present day.
CHAPTER II.
OF THE GHOST IN HIS CO-EXISTENT STATE—HIS PERSONAL SIMILITUDES AND HABITS.
Having, in the preceding chapter, endeavoured, as briefly as possible, to throw some light upon the general character of the primitive race of Highland ghosts in order to enable the reader to judge of the difference of manners which distinguished them from the modern ghosts, we shall now proceed to the consideration of the latter during the interval betwixt the birth and the eve of the death of the mortal, and which, for the sake of illustration, we shall call his co-existent state.
From the birth of the mortal to the eve of his death, the ghost, in point of similitude, is a perfect counterpart or representative of his earthly yoke-fellow. As the child grows towards manhood, his ghost keeps pace with him, and so exactly do they resemble each other in the features, complexions, and aspect, when seen by a third party, that, without the use of prescribed spells, no human observer can distinguish the mortal from the immortal. Nor is this resemblance confined to the personal appearance alone—it is likewise extended to the habiliments. Whether the mortal equips himself in the Highland garb or Lowland costume, the imitative ghost instantly assumes the same attire. The bonnet or the hat, the philibeg or the trews, are equally convenient and agreeable to him; for in this solitary particular he has never been known to dissent from his human partner.
During this period the ghost is supposed either to accompany or precede, at some distance, his human partner (of course invisible to those not possessing the second-sight) in all those multifarious journeys and duties which the mortal performs throughout the course of his eventful life, and the moral utility of the ghost is supposed to consist in propitiating the mortal’s undertakings by guarding them from the influence of evil spirits. But, however this may be, it is a well-known fact, that all ghosts do not devote the whole of their time to the discharge of this commendable duty. Common fame errs much if those capricious beings do not love their own pleasures more than their partner’s interest; and this their negligence is a subject of still deeper regret, when we consider the nature of those practices in which they employ their time.
If the appetites of the modern ghost are better restrained than those of his predecessors were in the “greedy times” we have written of, the mischievous habits he has acquired in lieu of his predecessor’s social accomplishments are to some far more calamitous than even Clashnichd’s practices. It is true, a dose of Highland crowdie would but ill agree with the refined delicacy of the stomach of the former. Such squeamish appetites must look out for more delicate and savoury food. But if the modern ghost does not possess those keen digestive powers which distinguished Clashnichd, he inherits all the ill nature of Ben-Baynac, without one-third of his might; and we question much if his regard for the fair sex is a bit more tender.