MY DEAR FRIEND, SKETCHES FROM NATURE. April 1818. THOUGH I had no desire to stay long at H-, yet I did not expect to have left it quite so soon: left it, however, I have, and after another little journey, I have arrived here in safety, and supplied with materials sufficient to furnish another letter of travelling adventures. But to give you something like a regular narrative, I must begin where my last letter left off. With a fixed determination to perform my duty in a conscientious manner, and with my father's strong warnings against "eye service" deeply impressed upon my mind, I joined my companions in labour; and, along with them, began the toils and duties of that station of life in which Providence has placed me. At every interval of labour, every breathing-time, I stole a few cautious scrutinizing glances at my companions, anxious to observe them, but fearful of being myself observed. They were all like strangers to me, and most of them strangers to one another also; the greater part about middle age, and none so young as myself. They appeared to be well acquainted with that world which was so new to me; and nothing surprised me more, than the easy and unembarrassed manner with which they talked to each other, though, till that very day, they had perhaps never met. Some of them accosted me in different ways, as their several inclinations led them; one speaking upon any indifferent subject; another upon the proper cultivation of this or the other species of plant; a third, gaily, but I thought cruelly and officiously, bantering me, asking how long I had left my mother, and if I was not well "speaned" yet? I shrunk from their familiarity, and plied my work with a sick heart. One young man, apparently about two or three years older than myself, perceived my distress, spoke to me kindly, and endeavoured, by talking upon agreeable and diverting subjects, to turn my mind from its melancholy musings, and he partly succeeded. In a short time I be came considerably attached to him ; and the more so, because I found in him a considerable similarity of taste. At our leisure hours we read and talked about our favourite authors; and though he had much less need of me than I had of him, he was evidently pleased with my company. In this manner time passed slowly on; the day employed in my common occupation, working along with the rest, and thinking on other scenes, and dearer friends; the evening spent in reading, talking with my only companion, or hearing him play a few tunes upon his fiddle, which he often did when he perceived me more than commonly inclined to sadness; and well he knew how to wake a strain concordant with my feelings, and lead my mind away from itself, by the associations stirred by plaintive measures, till the grief which I continued to feel became in itself a pleasure. Meanwhile the weather, which had been unsteady, became worse and worse; the wind blew from the northeast with the most bitter keenness, bearing along, at short intervals, thick drifting showers of snow and sleet. Often, during the showers, we cowered under the feeble shelter of the thin leafless beech-hedges, looking wistfully out for the re-appearance of blue-sky, and shivering till we were unable to speak; and always at the "fair blinks" working as fast as possible, to acquire some warmth. Many a thought of the comfortable fire-side of home did these chill blasts awake in my mind, while I was trembling at the very heart; but these I kept to myself, as I imagined it would be altogether disgraceful for me to appear overcome with cold, like a child. After some days of such weather, the wind shifted into the south-west, the skies cleared, the sun shone out bright and warm, and the little birds began to sing their joyful notes. I felt the renovating influence, and my heart at one time danced with delight, at another melted away in tender recollections of that home whence the wind was now blowing, whose whisperings seemed to me like the voice of a friend. While my mind was warmed with these feelings, another rhyming fit came upon me, and here follows the result. Recollections of Youthful Scenes. The gale saftly blaws frae the hills o' my hame, An' oh! how delightfu' its breathings to feel! While gently its wing fans my cheek an' my breast, What fond recollections o'er memory steal! My father's wee cot rises fresh on my view, An' the lang ash-tree soughing abune the lum-head; My ain green sod-seat by the bourtrees o'erhung, Wi' their sweet milky blossoms or berries sae red. The clear caller spring, an' its pure rippling stream, Wi' a' its wee islands o' cresses sae green; The bank where the primrose peeps modestly out, An' the violet uplifts to the sun its blue een; Where the green woodbine clings to the auld wither'd tree, While its dark berry nods to the whispering gale; The plantings where often I've daunert my lane I'll maybe thae sweet scenes o' youth see nac mair, But aye till the cauld han' o' death shuts my e'e, Where'er I may wander, where'er I may dwell, Dear, dear shall their memory be ever to me. An' oh! the lang gaze o' my fond mother's e'e, Sae tenderly bent on her wandering boy; My father's voice struggling wi' kindness an' grief, An' his bosom's deep heave wi' the sad parting sigh ; An' each glad joyous face, that made hame doubly dear, Sae dowie an' tearfu' to see me depart; Oh! that gaze, an' that sigh, an' each dear waefu' face, Till it ceases to beat shall aye dwell in my heart. Now, you must not be severe in your criticisms upon my poor verses; I cannot help it that they are not better, for they are the best I could produce, and they are true representations, both of the natural scenery of my dear home, and the warm feelings of my heart. wind, and the agreeable alteration A few days after the change of the of weather which followed, I got the offer of a situation some miles be In the gloamin', an' listen'd the cushy-yond C; and as it was consider do'es' wail: ably better in every respect than that seemed to me as if I were labouring under some strange delusion, which I had not the power to dispel. Often, in my early youth, while I read the history of "Wallace wight," have I cried with grief and bitter hatred at the "Southrons," and wished for power to avenge his murder upon them,-often longed for a day when the savage butcheries and wanton devastations committed after the battle of Culloden would be requited :—and now to feel myself actually going to England, to live amongst Englishmen! I thought upon it again and again, and wondered how I would behave when there. There was besides another circumstance which tended to wake feelings of a peculiar kind in this journey: for above twenty miles I was exactly retracing the road which I had lately come; so that I knew myself approaching nearer home every step, yet knew that my journey would not lead me there. I cannot describe to you how strange it seemed, to be travelling the very road which led homewards, yet with the unavoidable conviction in my mind that I would not reach it: I felt as one feels in a dream, when something is just within his reach could he make the slightest exertion; but he sees the object of his ardent wishes glide gradually away from his grasp, with the consciousness that a slight effort on his part would be sufficient to obtain it, yet feels an utter inability of making even that slight effort. Thus I drew gradually nearer and nearer home, yet knew, at the same time, that I was drawing nearer the place where I must leave the road which leads home, unless, indeed, I should continue it, as I could do, longed to do, yet would not do. A little before I reached that dread. ed place of separation, I saw a young man sitting by the roadside a little before me, as if resting himself. He rose as I came forward, and accosted me very civilly with a "Here's a fine day." I answered, that it was indeed a very good day for travelling; he immediately asked me if I could direet him the way to L? I told him that I was acquainted with it, but was intending to go there myself that night, and that if he was going there, we might accompany each other. To this he very willingly agreed, so on we went together. He was in person about my own height, but considerably stouter, and apparently three or four years older, and, from the paleness of his countenance, seemed to have been less exposed to the action of the sun and the weather. When we reached the village, and, after making inquiries, left the Droad, and took that leading to L, I proposed having something to eat and drink, as I had not taken any refreshment since morning, and had since then walked upwards of twenty miles; he told me plainly that he could not afford it, as he had but one sixpence left, and that he did not dare to break upon it till he knew where he would get a bed, and what it would cost him. I offered the poor fellow a share of a bottle of porter, and some bread and cheese, which he accepted very thankfully. After eating and drinking a little, he be came quite lively and happy, and sung me two or three songs while we rested ourselves. One of them was of a Jacobite character, and apparently not very old; it was so concordant with my feelings in some respects, that I was desirous to possess it, got him to repeat it over slowly, while I wrote it down with my pencil, and here I send you a copy of it. Lang, lang shall Caledonia rue That day when owre Culloden's plain The bluid o' her bravest heroes stream'd Like the torrent-gush o' the wintry rain; When the fierce-soul'd victor joy'd to picked up a little flinty pebble from as When we found ourselves well re- "gloamin'" displayed its finest freshed, we set out on our journey shade, neither light nor dark, but again, my lively companion much that dusky greyness so favourable to improved in spirits, and keeping me calm and solemn contemplation. I from indulging in gloomy reveries. had, however, another thing to enSome miles below Lwe cross-gage my attention,-quarters for the ed the E by a very fine romantic night were to be sought, which I bridge, or rather two bridges, one procured after a good deal of trouble, upon the other, occasioned by the occasioned by a fair in the town, exceeding depth of the craggy banks which had filled nearly all the houses between which the river is confined, of public entertainment. I then partand boils, and wheels, and foams, ed with my fellow-traveller, after an and thunders through with great agreement to meet next morning, beauty and grandeur. My compa- and continue our journey together. nion beguiled the way with many a In the house where I stopped I met song and many a merry tale, till at with a doctor and a painter, two length we came where the road is very singular characters in various crossed by a small stream, not so points of view, but both distinguishlarge as the stream of your little ed for cordial good fellowship over spring-well, but which is said to be the "barley-bree," and warm-heartthe boundary between Scotland and ed genuine kindness. If it were in England. On approaching it, all my power to relate to you their conour mirth instantly vanished;-we versation, and describe the peculilooked at the small stream-into arities of their behaviour, it would England-back into Scotland-a- make ample amends for the weariround on its hills, and glens, and some dullness of this letter. I have green fields, and waving hazels and never seen a pair of such frank, kind, brushwood, then on each other, eccentric men. The doctor, in parbut spoke not a word. I placed a ticular, is a delightful oddity; but foot on each side of the stream, all that I could say about him must pulled a small tuft of grass, and be reserved till I have the pleasure of a real conversation with you; for, were I to tell you all in my letters, I would have nothing new and strange to talk about when we meet, as I hope we yet may, though I cannot guess when. , After a very comfortable night's rest I continued my journey, but without meeting my companion of the preceding day: on I went, however, alone, and something "dowie;" often looking back upon the retiring hills of my dear native land, becoming fainter and fainter, and forward upon the lofty Cambrian mountains, becoming gradually more and more distinct. The morning was beautiful, calm, and mildly sunny; the wind just strong enough to be heard whispering and breathing through the young green unfolding buds of the earlier trees; the lark sung loud, clear, and melodious, high among the purple-streaked clouds; and the jolly Cambrian "hynd" was raising his rude strain in a ruder voice as he followed his plough. The day passed on, the sun reached the middle of the sky, and shone warm and strong, when I came at last in view of C- and stopped on a height to take a survey of it at leisure; but my powers of description are completely inadequate to give you any thing like an idea of its appearance. From the place where I stood, the first object that attracted my attention was the majestic and beautiful flow of the E-, winding past the city with a gentle bend, spanned by a newly-built and stately bridge. The banks of the river on the north side are adorned with a number of elegant mansions; the south bank, in one part, bristles with a variety of houses, lanes, and streets, of all dimensions, but all disorderly, dirty, and apparently inconvenient; in another, the grey battlements of the castle, and the narrow windows of the prison, frown "grim and horrible ;" over all floated a dark mass of smoky vapour, penetrated in a few places by the spires of a church or a cathedral. In the distance appeared the mighty forms of Skiddaw and Saddleback, huge and high. Turning round, behind me, I beheld the hills of Rshire, and the neighbouring part of D-shire, mellowed and VOL. XV. obscured by the distance; yet Burnswark was distinctly visible, lifting his singular, and, as it were, artformed brow above the rest, and farther west my own Criffel, which raising its giant size above the Solway, met my view, and awoke the fondest feelings of my heart. I gazed upon it till my eyes grew dim, my bosom heaved deeply, and my head swam with a sickening and confused pain; then drawing a long farewell sigh, I broke off my reverie, and bent my steps toward the town. I was not then in a capacity to make any impartial remarks, therefore you must not look for any at this time. My heart panted, my whole frame shuddered, and the blood burned o'er my cheek and brow, when I entered the Scotch-gate, where formerly the heads of my gallant, though misled countrymen, blackened in the sun and storm. I did not make any stop in the town,-I could not,-it was not a place for me; but as I was struggling through the crowd in the market-place, my ear was assailed by the well-known sound of a bagpipe. I instantly drew near, and saw and heard an old man in tartan dress, with a true weather-beaten Highland face, playing “Lochaber no more." I stood as if petrified; a thousand burning recollections flashed across my brain, rousing me to frenzy; then the long wailing fall smote upon my heart, till my blood chilled with the agony of woe. The eyes of the old man cast a supplicating glance around the crowd; the unfeeling brutes heeded it not; his strain quivered, sunk, and changed; I threw something into his hat, held by a little boy, grasped my stick firmly in hand, and rushed through the crowd like a maniac, scarcely able to restrain my maddened feelings from venting themselves in furious words and frantic actions. |