, 1859-07-22
THE LAST VICTIM
OF the Scottish Maiden.



A Scottish maiden! What a pleasant vision
do not these words call upi Who that has ever
kept his twelfth of August on the northern moors
could fail to be reminded by them Of some bright
eyed Highland lassie whom he has met at early
dawn of day crossing the mountain stream bare.
foot, with her plaid thrown over her fair hair and
her clear voice singing out an old sweet ballad
Of her native land; or haply, II he has had On
entree to the homes Of the Scottish aristocracy,
they will bring before him some yet fairer pic
ture Of pure pale face, where eyes Of blue,
tender as the morning sky, spoke Of noble and
truthful soul within; and he has learnt to love
the race that once had such deadly ieuds with bis
Saxon ancestry, because Of the glamour" cast
around him by tho golden-haired daughters Ol
the land
But very different Is the real picture Of that
Scottish maiden Of whom we are about to speak ;
nor was she any vision Of the fancy, but terri
bic reality whom all men knew and feared through
out broad Scotland, two hundred years ago. A
dark and stern lady was she truly, and one who
brooked no rivals-ior they whom she had once
embraced were never clasped to mortal heart
again; and the lovers whom she pilowed on her
bosom slept sleep that knew no waking Few
there were, even Of the bravest who did not
shudder somewhat as they saw her keeping her
unchanging watch through storm and sunshine,
beneath the shadow Of old St. Giles, the princi-
pal church Of the northern capital; and often
times, when they saw how the ground beneath
her feet was stained with blood, they muttered
curses on the "loath'y madin," that had done to
death so many gallant Scot Yet to some, this
ghastly lady (Which was none other than the pub
lie guiOtine) appeared to have attractions, such
as many q bright-eyed damsel would have en-
We'd; for it is recorded Of the noble Marquis Of
Argyle, the last who died in her embrace, when
our story commences, that he ran eagerly up the
steps, and exclaimed, as he laid his head upon the
block, "This is the sweetest maiden have ever
kissed" This saying Of his was oaen cited, and
the world wondered what hidden pang had 80
darkened life for the gallant noble, whose HON.
age was courted by the fairest ladies, that he
should die with words Of such bitter meaning on
his lips but when, some few years later, the
maiden pressed with her cold hand the throat Of
him who proved to be her latest victim, the
strange and tragic circumstances OF bis death
obliterated all recollections Of the Marquis and
his dying words.
1t happened singularly enough, however, that
these two, the lord Of Argyle and Kcnelm liam
ilton, who succeeded him on the block, had been
in life the deadest enemies; and, by peculiar
chain Of circumstances, which we shall now pro-
coed to detail, the death Of the one caused that
of the other.
Il was about a month after the execution Of
the Marquis that Hamilton, whose race, so closely
allied to the kings Of Scotland, was even prouder
than Argyle's, found himself compelled, by po-
litical business to pass night in the little town
Of Inverary, close to which stood the magnificent
castle Of the same name, which had been the
heritage Of his dead rival
Never, perhaps, did any one approach that
beautiful spot with greater ill-will than Kenelm
Hamilton; he was young man Of ofpeculiaTiy fiery
and impetuous disposition, Of whom It was often
saidtha his love and his hatred were alike to be
dreaded, so ardent and passionate was he in
either; he was the second son Of that noble fam
ily Of Hamiltons between whom and the Argyles
there had been deadly feud for many genera
tons past. Never, however, had Il burnt more
Iiercely than in the time Of which we write, when
the families had been represented by the Mar
Quis who had Just been compelled to lay his LOFTY
head at the maiden's feet, and Kcnelm, with the
wild and angry temper; for his elder brother
was an idiot, who bore the family title, but
lacked the wit to defend their honor when assail.
ed. Deep had been the hate between Argyle and
Hamilton, which even the new-shed blood Of the
former had not avaed to quench; for, In addi-
ton to the old clan feud, there was quarrel be-
tween them which had fearfully embittered their
traditionary hatred. The Marquis Of Argyle
had been betrothed almost from boyhood to his
cousin, the Lady Ellen Graham, and although
their engagement had been matter Of family
arrangement, he loved her well and truly; not
so the lady, however. She bad not been con-
suited when she was bound, while yet q child,
to the Marquis, and with the true feminine spirit
Of contradiction, she resolved to choose for her.
self, and accepted the addresses Of Kenelm Ham
ilton. who, by some unlucky chanceI had fallen
in love with his rivals bride.
Their wedding was even now fixed to take
place in few months, and this circumstance, no
Doubt explained the last words Of Argyle, which
were destined to bo the means Of one day bring
ing his enemy to the arms Of this same cruel
maiden, whom he himself had embraced with so
much fervor. And now the recollection Of that
last bloody scene was, doubtless, heavy on the
heart Of Hamilton as he rode down the mountain
path which led TO Inyerary Castle, and the little
village which lay at its foot Il was . cold and
gloomy night; the darkness was intense, and the
wild north wind went shrieking through the
pass as Il bore upon its wings the souls Of those
who had expired in great agony, while the dark
Scotch frs stood like spectres among the bleak
gray rocks. Truly, It was an evening on which
the stoutest heart might gladly seek q shelter,
and Hamilton was fain, though sorely against
his will, to rest for the night In the domain Of
his enemies This had been no part Of his inten-
ton when he set out on his journey; he had then
been accompanied by two Of his retainers, and
he designed to have passed at little distance
from lnverary early in the day, and TO have
lodged for the night in castle ut some distance,
and belonging to kinsman Of his own; but un-
happily, that morning ono Of his guides had been
thrown from his horse and injured so severely
that his life was despaired Of Some hours were
spent in conveying the wounded man to rest
ing place; and Hamilton, whose mission admitted
Of no delay, was obliged to lcave him IN charge
Of his comrade and push on his road, although
the short December day was already closing in
when he started again.