Chapter XXVI
Published online by Cambridge University Press: 13 March 2025
Summary
IT was fine weather when we started; but the day became overcast about noon, and it rained incessantly the greater part of the evening. In short, we had but an uncomfortable ride, and arrived late at night at Stirling, in a very draggle-tailed condition.
My commander led the way to the inn at which the Judges were accustomed to take up their quarters; and I found, from the appearance of matters about the porch-way, that the Court had not as yet broken up for the day. Hungry-looking jurymen were sauntering up and down, and the landlord was fidgetting about, evidently much distressed about the over-roasting of his mutton. This situation of things, however, was in so far favourable, that it gave me an opportunity of changing my dress; and the messenger having taken his place, with a nipperkin of brandy before him, at the door of the room, I patiently awaited the arrival of the personage whose mandate, I had no doubt, would instantly restore me to my liberty.
Accordingly, in about half an hour, (it was by this time close upon midnight,) my ears were at length gratified with the well-known “Justice-ayre march,” performed upon a couple of cracked trumpets in the street below me, and accompanied with a sufficient buzz of “the Lords!!!—the Lords!!!” and, throwing up my window, I could soon distinguish the principal feature of the advancing procession. His lordship held in his right hand an umbrella, for the protection of his wig and cocked hat; and his left being, with equal propriety, occupied in tucking up the skirts of his robe, his short bandy-legs were seen stumping vigorously through the mud—the bailies and trumpeters in advance, on each side a waiter or two with tallow-candles in paper-lanterns, and the usual rabble in the rear.
My messenger had taken care that our arrival should be announced the moment his lordship came up stairs; and, in a minute or two, I was summoned to his private apartment, where I found him already stripped of his judicial trappings, and thundering about dinner, with his hands in soap and water.
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- Information
- The History of Matthew WaldJohn Gibson Lockhart, pp. 144 - 147Publisher: Edinburgh University PressPrint publication year: 2023