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Updated: June 17, 2025
Soon after my paper was read, Lord Murray of Henderland, an old friend, then a Judge on the Scottish Bench, wrote to me as follows: "I shall be much obliged to you for a copy, if you have a spare one, of your printed note on Light. It is expressed with great clearness and brevity.
"Strange, strange are the ways of heaven," cried she, wringing her hands. "Ralph, you must be the messenger to my husband. Haste and saddle my grey jennet, and flee by the Riever's Road, to Tushielaw. Tell Henderland and Adam Scott, that King James comes, with a halter, to avenge the rights of royalty and peace. Cry it forth in the midst of their battle.
Henderland had, perhaps, less to boast of, in point of natural strength, than Tushielaw, Mangerton, and some other of the Border residences; but, in the beauty of its wooded scenery, and the picturesque effect of sleeping lochs and roaring torrents, it might not be excelled in all the Borders.
We have wept over her grave; and who that has seen the old stone in Henderland churchyard now broken in three pieces, but bearing still that epitaph which Longinus would have pronounced sublime, "Here lies Parys of Cockburn, and his wife Marjory" and looked on the old ruins of their castle, now scarcely sufficient for a resting place for the grey owl could resist the rising emotion, or quell the heaving breast of pity?
"Ah!" cried I, "what of him?" "What of the wind that bloweth where it listeth?" said Henderland. "He's here and awa'; here to-day and gone to-morrow: a fair heather-cat. He might be glowering at the two of us out of yon whin-bush, and I wouldna wonder! Ye'll no' carry such a thing as snuff, will ye?" I told him no, and that he had asked the same thing more than once.
Murray, advocate, who married a niece of Lord Mansfield's, and is now one of the judges of Scotland, by the title of Lord Henderland, sat with us a part of the evening; but did not venture to say any thing, that I remember, though he is certainly possessed of talents which would have enabled him to have shewn himself to advantage, if too great anxiety had not prevented him. At supper we had Dr.
I told him not at all; that I had seen much to admire among the Highlanders; and if he came to that, Mr. Campbell himself was a Highlander. "Ay," said he, "that's true. It's a fine blood." "And what is the King's agent about?" I asked. "Colin Campbell?" says Henderland. "Putting his head in a bees' byke!" "He is to turn the tenants out by force, I hear?" said I.
Henderland after expressing his delight in my company, and satisfaction at meeting with a friend of Mr. To say truth, I was overjoyed; for I had no great desire for John of the Claymore, and since my double misadventure, first with the guide and next with the gentleman skipper, I stood in some fear of any Highland stranger.
Henderland," said I. "If it is all fear upon both sides, I care to hear no more of it." "Na," said Mr. Henderland, "but there's love too, and self-denial that should put the like of you and me to shame. There's something fine about it; no' perhaps Christian, but humanly fine. Even Alan Breck, by all that I hear, is a chield to be respected.
I once thought that the highest of human enjoyments was a victory lost and won, with a hundred head of cattle driven before the returning host, in triumph, to Henderland; but, in yon withdrawing-room in the west wing, in which your cunning hands have placed the seductive couch, where one may lie and see roses blooming so near that he may smell their odours, and hear witching strains stealing from these musical things of wood and wire, the charm of the foray is broken, and the riever's spirit overcome.
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