Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland Volume VIII Part 16

"O Heavens! my Agnes!" cried the stranger, in a voice of agony.

"Henry! my Henry!" screamed the wretched bride, and, starting from the side of the bridegroom, she sank on the breast of the stranger.

That stranger was indeed Henry Cranstoun. A severe illness had brought him to the verge of death, and with his restoration to health reason was restored also. He had come to take his bride to his bosom--he met her the bride of another. It was a scene of misery.

"O Agnes! Agnes!" groaned Henry, "would to Heaven I had died! You are another's, though your heart is mine! Farewell! Farewell!--we must meet no more! I have endured much, but never misery like this!"

She could only exclaim, "Henry!" and speech failed her--recollection fled. Henry Cranstoun struck his hand upon his brow, and rushed wildly away. Agnes was conveyed to her father's house, as being nearer than that of her bridegroom's. She was laid upon her bed, she seemed unconscious of all around, and her tongue only uttered the word "Henry."

She rose not again from the bed on which she was laid, and within a week her gentle spirit fled. The shock which Henry had met with occasioned a relapse of the fever from which he had but recently recovered. He was taken to the village inn. He felt that death was about to terminate his sufferings, and when he heard of the death of his Agnes, he requested to be buried by her side. Within three weeks he died, and his latest wish was fulfilled--he was laid by the side of Agnes Percy, and a rose-tree was planted over their grave.

THE HENPECKED MAN.

Every one has heard the phrase, "_Go to Birgham!_" which signifies much the same as bidding you go to a worse place. The phrase is familiar not only on the Borders, but throughout all Scotland, and has been in use for more than five hundred years, having taken its rise from Birgham being the place where the Scottish n.o.bility were when they dastardly betrayed their country into the hands of the first Edward; and the people, despising the conduct and the cowardice of the n.o.bles, have rendered the saying, "_Go to Birgham!_" an expression of contempt until this day. Many, however, may have heard the saying, and even used it, who know not that Birgham is a small village, beautifully situated on the north side of the Tweed, about midway between Coldstream and Kelso; though, if I should say that the village itself is beautiful, I should be speaking on the wrong side of the truth. Yet there may be many who have both heard the saying and seen the place, who never heard of little Patie Crichton, the bicker-maker. Patie was of diminutive stature, and he followed the profession (if the members of the _learned professions_ be not offended at my using the term) of a cooper, or bicker-maker, in Birgham for many years. His neighbours used to say of him, "The puir body's henpecked."

Patie was in the habit of attending the neighbouring fairs with the water-cogs, cream-bowies, bickers, piggins, and other articles of his manufacture. It was Dunse fair, and Patie said he "had done extraordinar' weel--the sale had been far beyond what he expeckit." His success might be attributed to the circ.u.mstance that, when out of the sight and hearing of his better half, for every bicker he sold, he gave his customers half-a-dozen jokes into the bargain. Every one, therefore, liked to deal with little Patie. The fair being over, he retired with a crony to a public-house in the Castle Wynd, to crack of old stories over a gla.s.s, and inquire into each other's welfare. It was seldom they met, and it was as seldom that Patie dared to indulge in a single gla.s.s; but, on the day in question, he thought they could manage another gill, and another was brought. Whether the sight of it reminded him of his domestic miseries, and of what awaited him at home, I cannot tell; but, after drinking another gla.s.s, and p.r.o.nouncing the spirits excellent, he thus addressed his friend:--

"Ay, Robin" (his friend's name was Robin Roughead), "ye're a happy man--ye're maister in your ain hoose, and ye've a wife that adores and _obeys_ ye; but I'm nae better than naebody at my ain fireside. I'll declare I'm waur: wife an' bairns laugh at me--I'm treated like an outlan' body an' a fule. Though without me they micht gang an' beg, there is nae mair respeck paid to me than if I were a pair o' auld bauchels flung into a corner. Fifteen years syne I couldna believed it o' Tibby, though onybody had sworn it to me. I firmly believe that a guid wife is the greatest blessin that can be conferred upon a man upon this earth. I can imagine it by the treasure that my faither had in my mither; for, though the best may hae _words_ atween them occasionally, and I'm no saying that they hadna, yet they were just like pa.s.sin showers, to mak' the kisses o' the sun upon the earth mair sweet after them. Her whole study was to please him and to mak' him comfortable. She was never happy but when he was happy; an' he was just the same wi' her.

I've heard him say that she was worth untold gold. But, O Robin! if I think that a guid wife is the greatest blessin a man can enjoy, weel do _I_ ken that a scoldin, domineerin wife is his greatest curse. It's a terrible thing to be snooled in your ain house--naebody can form an idea o't but they wha experience it.

"Ye remember whan I first got acquainted wi' Tibby, she was doing the bondage work at Riselaw. I first saw her coming out o' Eccles kirk ae day, and I really thocht that I had never seen a better-faured or a more gallant-looking la.s.s. Her cheeks were red and white like a half-ripe strawberry, or rather, I should say, like a cherry; and she seemed as modest and meek as a lamb. It wasna very lang until I drew up; and, though she didna gie me ony great encouragement at first, yet, in a week or twa, after the ice was fairly broken, she became remarkably ceevil, and gied me her oxter on a Sunday. We used to saunter about the loanings, no saying meikle, but unco happy; and I was aye restless whan I was out o' her sight. Ye may guess that the shoemaker was nae loser by it during the six months that I ran four times a-week, wet or dry, between Birgham and Riselaw. But the term-time was drawing nigh, and I put the important question, and pressed her to name the day. She hung her head, and she seemed no to ken weel what to say; for she was sae mim and sae gentle then, that ye wad hae said 'b.u.t.ter wadna melt in her mouth.' And when I pressed her mair urgently--

"'I'll just leave it to yersel, Peter,' says she.

"I thocht my heart wad louped out at my mouth. I believe there never was a man sae beside himsel wi' joy in this warld afore. I fairly danced again, and cut as many antics as a merryandrew. 'O Tibby,' says I,

'I'm owre happy now!--Oh, haud my head!

This gift o' joy is like to be my dead.'

"'I hope no, Peter,' said she; 'I wad rather hae ye to live than dee for me.'

"I thocht she was as sensible as she was bonny, and better natured than baith.

"Weel, I got the house set up, the wedding-day cam, and everything pa.s.sed owre as agreeably as onybody could desire. I thocht Tibby turning bonnier and bonnier. For the first five or six days after the weddin, everything was '_hinny_,' and '_my love_,' and '_Tibby, dear_,' or '_Peter, dear_.' But matters didna stand lang at this. It was on a Sat.u.r.day nicht, I mind, just afore I was gaun to drap work, that three or four acquaintances cam into the shop to wush me joy, and they insisted I should pay off for the weddin. Ye ken I never was behint hand; and I agreed that I wad just fling on my coat and step up wi' them to Orange Lane. So I gaed into the house and took down my market coat, which was hangin behint the bed; and after that I gaed to the kist to tak out a shilling or twa; for, up to that time, Tibby had not usurped the office of Chancellor o' the Exchequer. I did it as cannily as I could; but she had suspected something, and heard the jinkin o' the siller.

"'What are ye doing, Patie?' says she; 'whar are ye gaun?'

"I had never heard her voice hae sic a sound afore, save the first time I drew up to her, when it was rather sharp than agreeable.

"'Ou, my dear,' says I, 'I'm just gaun up to Orange Lane a wee while.'

"'To Orange Lane!' says she; 'what in the name o' fortune's gaun to tak ye there?'

"'O hinny,' says I, 'it's just a neebor lad or twa that's drapped in to wush us joy, and, ye ken, we canna but be neebor-like.'

"'Ay! the sorrow joy them!' says she, 'and neebor too!--an' how meikle will that cost ye?'

"'Hoot, Tibby,' says I, for I was quite astonished at her, 'ye no understand things, woman.'

"'No understand them!' says she; 'I wish to guidness that ye wad understand them though! If that's the way ye intend to mak the siller flee, it's time there were somebody to tak care o't.'

"I had put the silver in my pocket, and I was gaun to the door mair surprised than I can weel express, when she cried to me--

"'Mind what ye spend, and see that ye dinna stop.'

"'Ye need be under nae apprehensions o' that, hinny,' said I, wishing to pacify her.

"'See that it be sae,' cried she, as I shut the door.

"I joined my neebors in a state of greater uneasiness o' mind than I had experienced for a length o' time. I couldna help thinkin but that Tibby had rather early begun to tak the upper hand, and it was what I never expected from her. However, as I was saying, we went up to Orange Lane, and we sat doun, and ae gill brocht on anither. Tibby's health and mine were drunk; we had several capital sangs; and, I daresay, it was weel on for ten o'clock afore we rose to gang awa. I was nae mair affected wi'

drink than I am at this moment. But, somehow or ither, I was uneasy at the idea o' facing Tibby. I thought it would be a terrible thing to quarrel wi' her. I opened the door, and, bolting it after me, slipped in, half on the edge o' my fit. She was sitting wi' her hand at her haffit by the side o' the fire, but she never let on that she either saw or heard me--she didna speak a single word. If ever there was a woman

'Nursing her wrath to keep it warm,'

it was her that nicht. I drew in a chair, and, though I was half-feared to speak--

"'What's the matter, my pet?' says I--'what's happened ye?'

"But she sat looking into the fire, and never let on she heard me.

'E'en's ye like, Meg Dorts,' thought I, as Allan Ramsay says; but I durstna say it, for I saw that there was a storm brewing. At last, I ventured to say again--

"'What ails ye, Tibby, dear?--are ye no weel?'

"'Weel!' cried she--'wha can be weel? Is this the way ye mean to carry on? What a time o' nicht is this to keep a body to, waiting and fretting on o' ye, their lane? Do you no think shame o' yoursel?'

"'Hoot, woman,' says I, 'I'm surprised at ye; I'm sure ye hae naething to mak a wark about--it's no late yet.'

"'I dinna ken what ye ca' late,' said she; 'it wadna be late amang yer cronies, nae doubt; but if it's no late, it's early, for I warrant its mornin.'

"'Nonsense!' says I.

"'Dinna tell me it's nonsense,' said she, 'for I'll be spoken to in na sic way--I'll let you ken that. But how meikle has it cost ye? Ye wad be treating them, nae doubt--and how meikle hae ye spent, if it be a fair question?'

"'Toots, Tibby!' said I, 'whar's the cause for a' this? What great deal could it cost me?'

"'But hair by hair makes the carle's head bare,' added she--'mind ye that; and mind ye that ye've a house to keep aboon your head noo. But, if ye canna do it, I maun do it for ye--sae gie me the key o' that kist--gie me it instantly; and I'll tak care how ye gang drinkin wi' ony body and treatin them till mornin again.'

"For the sake o' peace I gied her the key; for she was speakin sae loud that I thocht a' the neebors wad hear--and she had nae suner got it, than awa she gaed to the kist and counted every shilling. I had nae great abundance then mair than I've now; and--

"'Is that a' ye hae?' said she; 'an' yet ye'll think o' gaun drinkin and treatin folk frae Sat.u.r.day nicht till Sabbath mornin! If this is the life ye intend to lead, I wush to guidness I had ne'er had onything to say to ye.'

"'And if this is the life ye intend to lead me,' thought I, 'I wush the same thing.'

"But that was but the beginnin o' my slavery. From that hour to this she has continued on from bad to worse. No man livin can form an idea o'

what I've suffered but mysel. In a mornin, or rather, I may say, in a forenoon, for it was aye nine or ten o'clock afore she got up, she sat doun to her tea and white scones and b.u.t.ter, while I had to be content wi' a scrimpit bicker o' brose and sour milk for kitchen. Nor was this the warst o't; for, when I cam in frae my wark for my breakfast, mornin after mornin, the fire was black out; and there had I, before I could get a bite to put in my mouth, to bend doun upon my knees and blaw it, and blaw it, till I was half-blind wi' ashes--for we hadna a pair o'