Covenanters -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Scotland -- History -- Stuarts, to the Union, 1371-1707 -- Fiction
The Highland host came on us in want, and, but for their license to
destroy, in beggary. Yet when they returned to their wild homes among
the distant hills, they were laden as with the household wealth of a
realm, in so much that they were rendered defenceless by the weight of
their spoil. At the bridge of Glasgow the students of the College and
the other brave youths of that town, looking on them with true Scottish
hearts, and wrathful to see that the barbarians had been such robbers of
their fellow-subjects, stopped above two thousand of them, and took from
them their congregations of goods and wares, wearing apparel, pots,
pans, and gridirons, and other furniture, wherewith they had burdened
themselves like bearers at a flitting. My house was stript to a wastage,
and every thing was taken away; what was too heavy to be easily
transported was, after being carried some distance, left on the road.
The very shoes were taken off my wife's feet, and "ye'll no be a refuse
to gi'e me that," said a red-haired reprobate as he took hold of Sarah
Lochrig's hand and robbed her of her wedding-ring. I was present and saw
the deed; I felt my hands clench, but in my spirit I discovered that it
was then the hour of outrage, and that the Avenger's time was not yet
come.
CHAPTER LXIX
Rarely has it fallen to the lot of man to be so blessed with such
children as mine; but surely I was unworthy of the blessing. And yet,
though maybe unworthy, Lord, thou knowest by the nightly anthems of
thankfulness that rose from my hearth, that the chief sentiment in my
breast, in those moments of melody, was my inward acknowledgment to
Thee for having made this world so bright to me, with an offspring so
good and fair, and with Sarah Lochrig, their mother, she whose life was
the sweetness in the cup of my felicity. Let me not, however, hurry on,
nor forget that I am but an historian, and that it befits not the
juridical pen of the character to dwell upon my own woes when I have to
tell of the sufferings of others.
The trials and the tribulations which I had heard so much of, and
whereof I had witnessed so many, made me in a sense but little liable to
be moved when told of any new outrage. But the sight of that Highlander
wrenching from Sarah Lochrig's finger our wedding-ring did, in its
effects and influences, cause a change in my nature as sudden and as
wonderful as that which the rod of Moses underwent in being quickened
into a serpent.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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