The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1859-07-21
From the Dublin University Magazine.
The Last Victim of the Scottish Maiden

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 noun
tain stream barefoot, with her plaid thrown
over her fair hair, and her clear voice singing
out an old sweet ballad Of her native land or
haply, if he has had an entree to the homes Of
the Scottish aristocracy, they will bring before
him some yet fairer picture of a purerpale face,
where eyes of blue, tender as the morning
sky, spoke of a noble and truthful soul within;
and he has learnt to love the race that once
had such deadly feuds with his Saxon ancestry,
because of the "gamour" cast around him by
the golden-haired daughters of the land.
But very different is the real picture of that
Scottish maiden of whom we are about to
speak nor she any vision of the fancy, but
terrible reality, whom all men knew and fear
ed throughout broad Scotland, two hundred
years ago. A dark and stern lady VAS she
truly and one who brooked no rivals-for they
whom she had once embraced were never
clasped to mortal heart again and the lovers
whom she pillowed on her bosom slept a sleep
that knew no waking. Few there were, even
| of the bravest, who did not shudder somewhat
rs they saw her keeping her unchanging watch
through storm and sunshine, beneath the
! shadow OF old st. Giles, the principal church Of
the Northern capital; and ottentimes, when
they saw how tho ground beneath her feet was
stained with blood, they muttered curses ON the
loathly maiden" that had done to death 50
many gallant Scot. Yet TO some this CHASTITY
lady (which was none other than the public
guillotine) appeared to have attractions, such
as many a bright-eyed damsel would have en-
We'd; for it is recorded of the noble MARQUIS of
Argyle, the last who had died in her embrace.
when our story commences that he ran eagerly
up the steps, and exclaimed as he laid his head
on the block: "This is the sweetest maiden 1
have ever kissed" This saying of his was often
| cited, and the world wondered what hidden
pang had so darkened life Tor the gallant no
Bile, whose homage 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 20 be her
latest victim, the strange and tragic circum
stance of bis death Obteraled all recolIectiuns
OF the Marquis and his dying words
1t happened singularly enough, however,
! that these two, the Lord of Argyle, and Ken
elm Hamilton who succeeded him on the block
had been in life the deadliest enemies; and by
Il peculiar chain of circumstances which We
shall now proceed To detail, the death of one
caused that Of the other.
1t was about month after the execution OF
the Marquis, that Hamilton, whose race, 50.
closely allied TO the kings of Scotland. WAS
even prouder than Argyle's, found himself
compelled by political business to pass night
III tho little town of lnyerary, 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 tba5
beautiful spot with greater ill-wll than + eneIm
Hamilton he was young man Of !. ,,aculiarly
hery and impctnous disposition, of whom il was
often SAID that his love and lis hatred were.
alike TO be dreaded, 80 ardent and passionate
was he IN either be was the second son of that
noble family Of llamihons, between whom and
The Arsyl les there had been deadly feud for
many generations past Never. however. had
1t boyn' more tiercey than in the time of which
W. write, when the families had been repre-
scented by the Marquis who had Just been com
PEELED "a lay his lofty head at the maiden's feet
and kenelm, with his wild and angry temper.
Tor his elder brother was an idiot, who bore the
family title but lacked the wit to defend their
honor when assailed. Deep had been the hate
between Argyle and Hamilton, which even the
new-shcd blood of the former had not avaled
~ qnench for, in addition to the old clan feud.
there was private quarrel between them, which
had iearIully embittered their Evolutionary ha-
tired. The Marquis of Argyle had been be
trolhcd almost from boyhood to his cousin, the
lady Ellen Graham, and although their en-
EagcnIcnt had been a matter of family arrange
iheht, he loved her well and truly; not so the
lady, however. She had not been consulted
when she was bound, while yet a child To the
Marquis, and, with the true feminine spirit OF
contradiction, she resolved to choose for herself
and accepted the addresses of Keneim Hami-
ton, who by some unlucky chance had fallen i'm
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
n ARR la Wh ii aH 10, h. Al
means of one day bringing his enemy to the arms
OF this same cruel maiden, whom he himself
had embraced with ~ much iervor. 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
lnverary Castle, and the little village that lay
at its foot. 1t was a cold and gloomy winter
night; the darkness was intense, and the wild
north wind went shrieking and bowling through
the pass, as if it bore upon its wings the souls
of those who had expired in some great agony,
while the dark Scotch frs stood up like spec
tres among the bleak gray rocks Truly it
was an evening on which the stoutest heart
might gladly seek shelter, and Hamilton was
fain, though sOrely against his will, to rest for
| the night in the domain of his enemies. This
had been part OF his intention when be set
out on his Journey; he had then been accom-
| panied by two of his retainers, and he designed
TO have passed at little distance from Inverary
early in the day, and to have lodged for the
night in castle at some distance, and belong
ing to a kinsman of his own but, unhappily
that morning one 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 a resting
place; and Hamilton, whose mission admitted
of no delay, was obliged To leave him iii charge
of his co,nrade, aud push on his road. although
the short December day was already closing an
when he started again.
He rode OH as rapidly he could but the
darkness soon became 50 impenetrable that he
repeatedly lost his way; and when, at last, the
lights Of lnyerary cleaned through the driving
mist and rain, he felt that it had become
matter of necessity that he should rest there
for the night, rs his faded horse was stumbling
at every step, from sheer fatigue.
In these turbulent times, when every mans
hand was against his fellow, there would have
been considerable risk in Hamilton venturing
into Inverary, and especially this particular
Hamilton, had he been known; but kenelm
trusted that the darkness of the night would
prevent his being seen by any but the landlord
of the inn where lie meant to sleep, to whom
he was personally unknown, and who would
not be likely 10 suspect that "A solitary horse
man, unattended by single retainer, could
bear so proud name
In this suppostion he was proved TO have
Judged rightly. kenelm rode unmoested and
unobserved through the little town. the streets
of which were in fact, almost deserted as the
tempestuous weather had driven all the inhabit-
ants into their houses and he saw, to his great
satisfaction, that even the door of the inn was
shut-a sufficient proof that no guests were ex-
pected at the argyle Arms " that night. The