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Porter, Jane, 1776-1850

"The Scottish Chiefs"

When arrive there he disarmed
himself of all but his sword, dirk, and breastplate; he covered his
tartan gambeson with a minstrel's cassock, and staining his bright
complexion with the juice of a nut, concealed his brighter locks
beneath a close bonnet. Being thus equipped, he threw his harp over his
shoulder; and having first, in that solitude, where no eye beheld, no
ear heard but that of God, invoked a blessing on his enterprise, with a
buoyant spirit--rejoicing in the power in whose light he moved--he went
forth, and under the sweet serenity of a summer night pursued his way
along the broom-clad hills of Muiravenside.
All lay in profound rest-not a human creature crossed his path till the
carol of the lark summoned the husbandman to his toil, and spread the
thymy hills and daisied pastures with herds and flocks. As the lowing
of cattle descending to the water, and the bleating of sheep, hailing
the morning beam, came on the breeze, mingled with the joyous voices of
their herdsmen, calling to each other from afar--as all met the ear of
Wallace--his conscious heart could not but whisper: "I have been the
happy instrument to effect this! I have restored every man to his
paternal fields! I have filled all these honest breasts with gladness!"
He stopped at a little moss-covered cabin on the burn-side, beneath
Craig Castle in Mid-Lothian, and was hospitably entertained by its
simple inhabitants.


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