Scenes and legends of the north of Scotland : $b or, The traditional history of Cromarty — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
Scenes and legends of the north of Scotland : $b or, The traditional history of Cromarty
John Stuart Mill · en
by two dogs, one of which tugged at the head and the other at the feet
of the figure, was seen approaching from the west. As this terrible
apparition passed the traveller, the moon shone full on the face of
the woman bent across the horse, and he distinctly perceived, though
the features seemed convulsed with agony, that they were those of the
female who, unknown to him, had expired a few minutes before. None of
the other stories are of so terrible a character.
[Sidenote: GORDON OF NEWHALL.]
Attached to the eastern gable of the ruin, there is a tomb which
encloses several monuments; among the rest a plain slab of marble
bearing an epitaph, the composition of which would reflect honour
on the pen even of Pope. Like most of the other tablets of the
burying-ground, it has its history. Somewhat more than fifty years
ago, the proprietor of Newhall, an estate in the neighbourhood, was a
young man of very superior powers of mind, and both a gentleman and a
scholar. When on a visit at the house of his uncle, the proprietor of
Invergordon, he was suddenly taken ill, and died a few hours after,
leaving behind him a sister, who entertained for him the warmest
affection, and the whole of his tenants, who were much attached to him,
to regret his loss. He was buried in the family vault of his uncle, who
did not long survive him; and whose estate, including the vault, was
sold soon after by the next of kin--a circumstance which aggravated, in
no slight degree, the grief of his sister. There was one gloomy idea
that continually occupied her mind--the idea that even the dust of her
brother had, like the earth and stones of his cemetery, become the
property of a stranger. Sleeping or waking, the interior of the vault
was continually before her. I have seen it. It is a damp melancholy
apartment of stone, so dimly lighted that the eye cannot ascertain its
extent, with the sides hollowed into recesses, partly occupied by the
dead, and with a few rusty iron lamps suspended from the ceiling, that
resemble in the darkness a family of vampire bats clinging to the roof
of a cavern. A green hillock, covered with moss and daisies, would have
supplied the imagination of the mourner with a more pleasing image, and
have associated better with the character of the dead.