A DOCTOR OF THE OLD SCHOOL by Ian Maclaren Book V. THE MOURNING OF THE GLEN PREFACE It is with great good will that I write this short preface to theedition of "A Doctor of the Old School" (which has been illustrated byMr. Gordon after an admirable and understanding fashion) because thereare two things that I should like to say to my readers, being also myfriends. One, is to answer a question that has been often and fairly asked. Wasthere ever any doctor so self-forgetful and so utterly Christian asWilliam MacLure? To which I am proud to reply, on my conscience: Not oneman, but many in Scotland and in the South country. I will dare prophecyalso across the sea. It has been one man's good fortune to know four country doctors, not oneof whom was without his faults--Weelum was not perfect--but who, eachone, might have sat for my hero. Three are now resting from theirlabors, and the fourth, if he ever should see these lines, would neveridentify himself. Then I desire to thank my readers, and chiefly the medical professionfor the reception given to the Doctor of Drumtochty. For many years I have desired to pay some tribute to a class whoseservice to the community was known to every countryman, but after thetale had gone forth my heart failed. For it might have been despisedfor the little grace of letters in the style and because of the outwardroughness of the man. But neither his biographer nor his circumstanceshave been able to obscure MacLure who has himself won all honest hearts, and received afresh the recognition of his more distinguished brethren. From all parts of the English-speaking world letters have come incommendation of Weelum MacLure, and many were from doctors who hadreceived new courage. It is surely more honor than a new writer couldever have deserved to receive the approbation of a profession whosecharity puts us all to shame. May I take this first opportunity to declare how deeply my heart hasbeen touched by the favor shown to a simple book by the American people, and to express my hope that one day it may be given me to see you faceto face. IAN MACLAREN. Liverpool, Oct. 4, 1895. THE MOURNING OF THE GLEN V. THE MOURNING OF THE GLEN. Dr. MacLure was buried during the great snowstorm which is still spokenof, and will remain the standard of snowfall in Drumtochty for thecentury. The snow was deep on the Monday, and the men that gave noticeof his funeral had hard work to reach the doctor's distant patients. On Tuesday morning it began to fall again in heavy, fleecy flakes, andcontinued till Thursday, and then on Thursday the north wind rose andswept the snow into the hollows of the roads that went to the uplandfarms, and built it into a huge bank at the mouth of Glen Urtach, andlaid it across our main roads in drifts of every size and the mostlovely shapes, and filled up crevices in the hills to the depth of fiftyfeet. On Friday morning the wind had sunk to passing gusts that powderedyour coat with white, and the sun was shining on one of those winterlandscapes no townsman can imagine and no countryman ever forgets. TheGlen, from end to end and side to side, was clothed in a glisteringmantle white as no fuller on earth could white it, that flung its skirtsover the clumps of trees and scattered farmhouses, and was only dividedwhere the Tochty ran with black, swollen stream. The great moor rose andfell in swelling billows of snow that arched themselves over the burns, running deep in the mossy ground, and hid the black peat bogs with athin, treacherous crust. [Illustration. ] Beyond, the hills northwards and westwards stood high in white majesty, save where the black crags of Glen Urtach broke the line, and, above ourlower Grampians, we caught glimpses of the distant peaks that liftedtheir heads in holiness unto God. It seemed to me a fitting day for William MacLure's funeral, rather thansummer time, with its flowers and golden corn. He had not been a softman, nor had he lived an easy life, and now he was to be laid to restamid the austere majesty of winter, yet in the shining of the sun. JamieSoutar, with whom I toiled across the Glen, did not think with me, butwas gravely concerned. "Nae doot it's a graund sicht; the like o't is no gien tae us twice ina generation, an' nae king wes ever carried tae his tomb in sic acathedral. "But it's the fouk a'm conseederin', an' hoo they'll win through; it'shard eneuch for them 'at's on the road, an' it's clean impossible forthe lave. [Illustration: "TOILED ACROSS THE GLEN"] "They 'ill dae their best, every man o' them, ye may depend on that, an' hed it been open weather there wudna hev been six able-bodiedmen missin'. "A' wes mad at them, because they never said onything when he wesleevin', but they felt for a' that what he hed dune, an', a' think, hekent it afore he deed. "He hed juist ae faut, tae ma thinkin', for a' never jidged the wauro' him for his titch of rochness--guid trees hae gnarled bark--but hethotched ower little o' himsel'. "Noo, gin a' hed asked him hoo mony fouk wud come tae his beerial, hewud hae said, 'They 'ill be Drumsheugh an' yersel', an' may be twa orthree neeburs besides the minister, ' an' the fact is that nae man in oortime wud hae sic a githerin' if it werena for the storm. [Illustration] "Ye see, " said Jamie, who had been counting heads all morning, "there'ssix shepherds in Glen Urtaeh--they're shut up fast; an' there micht haebeen a gude half dizen frae Dunleith wy, an' a'm telt there's nae road;an' there's the heich Glen, nae man cud cross the muir the day, an' it'saucht mile round;" and Jamie proceeded to review the Glen in everydetail of age, driftiness of road and strength of body, till we arrivedat the doctor's cottage, when he had settled on a reduction of fiftythrough stress of weather. [Illustration: "ANE OF THEM GIED OWER THE HEAD IN A DRIFT, AND HISNEEBURS HAD TAE PU' HIM OOT, "] Drumsheugh was acknowledged as chief mourner by the Glen, and receivedus at the gate with a labored attempt at everyday manners. "Ye've hed heavy traivellin', a' doot, an' ye 'ill be cauld. It's hardweather for the sheep an' a'm thinkin' this 'ill be a feeding storm. "There wes nae use trying tae dig oot the front door yestreen, for itwud hae been drifted up again before morning. We've cleared awa the snowat the back for the prayer; ye 'ill get in at the kitchen door. "There's a puckle Dunleith men-----" "Wha?" cried Jamie in an instant. "Dunleith men, " said Drumsheugh. "Div ye mean they're here, whar are they?" "Drying themsels at the fire, an' no withoot need; ane of them giedower the head in a drift, and his neeburs hed tae pu' him oot. "It took them a gude fower oors tae get across, an' it wes coorse wark;they likit him weel doon that wy, an', Jamie, man"--here Drumsheugh'svoice changed its note, and his public manner disappeared--"what div yethink o' this? every man o' them has on his blacks. " "It's mair than cud be expeckit" said Jamie; "but whar dae yon men comefrae, Drumsheugh?" Two men in plaids were descending the hill behind the doctor's cottage, taking three feet at a stride, and carrying long staffs in their hands. "They're Glen Urtach men, Jamie, for are o' them wes at Kildrummie fairwi' sheep, but hoo they've wun doon passes me. " "It canna be, Drumsheugh, " said Jamie, greatly excited. "Glen Urtach'ssteikit up wi' sna like a locked door. [Illustration: "TWO MEN IN PLAIDS WERE DESCENDING THE HILL"] "Ye're no surely frae the Glen, lads?" as the men leaped the dyke andcrossed to the back door, the snow falling from their plaids as theywalked. "We're that an' nae mistak, but a' thocht we wud be lickit ae place, eh, Charlie? a'm no sae weel acquant wi' the hill on this side, an' therewes some kittle (hazardous) drifts. " "It wes grand o' ye tae mak the attempt, " said Drumsheugh, "an' a'm gledye're safe. " "He cam through as bad himsel' tae help ma wife, " was Charlie's reply. "They're three mair Urtach shepherds 'ill come in by sune; they're fraeUpper Urtach an' we saw them fording the river; ma certes it took thema' their time, for it wes up tae their waists and rinnin' like a milllade, but they jined hands and cam ower fine. " And the Urtach men wentin to the fire. The Glen began to arrive in twos and threes, and Jamie, from a point of vantage at the gate, and under an appearance of utterindifference, checked his roll till even he was satisfied. [Illustration] "Weelum MacLure 'ill hae the beerial he deserves in spite o' sna anddrifts; it passes a' tae see hoo they've githered frae far an' near. "A'm thinkin' ye can colleck them for the minister noo, Drumsheugh. A'body's here except the heich Glen, an' we mauna luke for them. " "Dinna be sae sure o' that, Jamie. Yon's terrible like them on the road, wi' Whinnie at their head;" and so it was, twelve in all, only old AdamRoss absent, detained by force, being eighty-two years of age. "It wud hae been temptin' Providence tae cross the muir, " Whinnieexplained, "and it's a fell stap roond; a' doot we're laist. " "See, Jamie, " said Drumsheugh, as he went to the house, "gin there beony antern body in sicht afore we begin; we maun mak allooances the daywi' twa feet o' sna on the grund, tae say naethin' o' drifts. " "There's something at the turnin', an' it's no fouk; it's a machine o'some kind or ither--maybe a bread cart that's focht its wy up. " "Na, it's no that; there's twa horses, are afore the ither; if it's no adogcairt wi' twa men in the front; they 'ill be comin' tae the beerial. ""What wud ye sae, Jamie, " Hillocks suggested, "but it micht be some o'thae Muirtown doctors? they were awfu' chief wi' MacLure. " "It's nae Muirtown doctors, " cried Jamie, in great exultation, "nor onyither doctors. A' ken thae horses, and wha's ahind them. Quick, man, Hillocks, stop the fouk, and tell Drumsheugh tae come oot, for LordKilspindie hes come up frae Muirtown Castle. " Jamie himself slipped behind, and did not wish to be seen. "It's the respeck he's gettin' the day frae high an' low, " was Jamie'shusky apology; "tae think o' them fetchin' their wy doon frae GlenUrtach, and toiling roond frae the heich Glen, an' his Lordship drivingthrough the drifts a' the road frae Muirtown, juist tae honour WeelumMacLure's beerial. [Illustration: "TWA HORSES, ANE AFORE THE ITHER"] "It's nae ceremony the day, ye may lippen tae it; it's the hert brochtthe fouk, an' ye can see it in their faces; ilka man hes his ainreason, an' he's thinkin' on't though he's speakin' o' naethin' but thestorm; he's mindin' the day Weelum pued him out frae the jaws o' death, or the nicht he savit the gude wife in her oor o' tribble. "That's why they pit on their blacks this mornin' afore it wes licht, and wrastled through the sna drifts at risk o' life. Drumtochty foukcanna say muckle, it's an awfu' peety, and they 'ill dae their best taeshow naethin', but a' can read it a' in their een. "But wae's me"--and Jamie broke down utterly behind a fir tree, sotender a thing is a cynic's heart--"that fouk 'ill tak a man's best warka' his days without a word an' no dae him honour till he dees. Oh, ifthey hed only githered like this juist aince when he wes livin', an' lathim see he hedna laboured in vain. His reward has come ower late". During Jamie's vain regret, the castle trap, bearing the marks of a wildpassage in the snow-covered wheels, a broken shaft tied with rope, atwisted lamp, and the panting horses, pulled up between two rows offarmers, and Drumsheugh received his lordship with evident emotion. "Ma lord . .. We never thocht o' this . .. An' sic a road. " "How are you, Drumsheugh? and how are you all this wintry day? That'show I'm half an hour late; it took us four hours' stiff work for sixteenmiles, mostly in the drifts, of course. " "It wes gude o' yir lordship, tae mak sic an effort, an' the hale Glenwull be gratefu' tae ye, for ony kindness tae him is kindness tae us. " [Illustration: HE HAD LEFT HIS OVERCOAT AND WAS IN BLACK] "You make too much of it, Drumsheugh, " and the clear, firm voice washeard of all; "it would have taken more than a few snow drifts to keepme from showing my respect to William MacLure's memory. " When all hadgathered in a half circle before the kitchen door, Lord Kilspindie cameout--every man noticed he had left his overcoat, and was in black, likethe Glen--and took a place in the middle with Drumsheugh and Burnbrae, his two chief tenants, on the right and left, and as the ministerappeared every man bared his head. The doctor looked on the company--a hundred men such as for strengthand gravity you could hardly have matched in Scotland--standing out inpicturesque relief against the white background, and he said: "It's a bitter day, friends, and some of you are old; perhaps it mightbe wise to cover your heads before I begin to pray. " Lord Kilspindie, standing erect and grey-headed between the two old men, replied: "We thank you, Dr. Davidson, for your thoughtfulness; but he enduredmany a storm in our service, and we are not afraid of a few minutes'cold at his funeral. " A look flashed round the stern faces, and was reflected from theminister, who seemed to stand higher. His prayer, we noticed with critical appreciation, was composed for theoccasion, and the first part was a thanksgiving to God for the life workof our doctor, wherein each clause was a reference to his services andsacrifices. No one moved or said Amen--it had been strange with us--butwhen every man had heard the gratitude of his dumb heart offered toheaven, there was a great sigh. After which the minister prayed that we might have grace to live as thisman had done from youth to old age, not for himself, but for others, and that we might be followed to our grave by somewhat of "that lovewherewith we mourn this day Thy servant departed. " Again the same sigh, and the minister said Amen. The "wricht" stood in the doorway withoutspeaking, and four stalwart men came forward. They were the volunteersthat would lift the coffin and carry it for the first stage. One wasTammas, Annie Mitchell's man; and another was Saunders Baxter, for whoselife MacLure had his great fight with death; and the third was the GlenUrtach shepherd for whose wife's sake MacLure suffered a broken leg andthree fractured ribs in a drift; and the fourth, a Dunleith man, had hisown reasons of remembrance. "He's far lichter than ye wud expeck for sae big a man--there wesnamuckle left o' him, ye see--but the road is heavy, and a'il change yeaifter the first half mile. " "Ye needna tribble yersel, wricht, " said the man from Glen Urtach;"the'll be nae change in the cairryin' the day, " and Tammas was thankfulsome one had saved him speaking. Surely no funeral is like unto that of a doctor for pathos, and apeculiar sadness fell on that company as his body was carried out whofor nearly half a century had been their help in sickness, and hadbeaten back death time after time from their door. Death after allwas victor, for the man that had saved them had not been able to savehimself. As the coffin passed the stable door a horse nieghed within, and everyman looked at his neighbour. It was his old mare crying to her master. Jamie slipped into the stable, and went up into the stall. "Puir lass, ye're no gaen' wi' him the day, an' ye 'ill never see himagain; ye've hed yir last ride thegither, an' ye were true tae the end. " [Illustration: "DEATH AFTER ALL WAS VICTOR"] After the funeral Drumsheugh came himself for Jess, and took her to hisfarm. Saunders made a bed for her with soft, dry straw, and prepared forher supper such things as horses love. Jess would neither take food norrest, but moved uneasily in her stall, and seemed to be waiting for someone that never came. No man knows what a horse or a dog understands andfeels, for God hath not given them our speech. If any footstep was heardin the courtyard, she began to neigh, and was always looking round asthe door opened. But nothing would tempt her to eat, and in thenight-time Drumsheugh heard her crying as if she expected to be takenout for some sudden journey. The Kildrummie veterinary came to see her, and said that nothing could be done when it happened after this fashionwith an old horse. [Illustration] "A've seen it aince afore, " he said. "Gin she were a Christian insteado' a horse, ye micht say she wes dying o' a broken hert. " He recommended that she should be shot to end her misery, but no mancould be found in the Glen to do the deed and Jess relieved them of thetrouble. When Drumsheugh went to the stable on Monday morning, a weekafter Dr. MacLure fell on sleep, Jess was resting at last, but her eyeswere open and her face turned to the door. "She wes a' the wife he hed, " said Jamie, as he rejoined the procession, "an' they luved ane anither weel. " The black thread wound itself along the whiteness of the Glen, thecoffin first, with his lordship and Drumsheugh behind, and the others asthey pleased, but in closer ranks than usual, because the snow on eitherside was deep, and because this was not as other funerals. They couldsee the women standing at the door of every house on the hillside, andweeping, for each family had some good reason in forty years to rememberMacLure. When Bell Baxter saw Saunders alive, and the coffin of thedoctor that saved him on her man's shoulder, she bowed her head on thedyke, and the bairns in the village made such a wail for him they lovedthat the men nearly disgraced themselves. "A'm gled we're through that, at ony rate, " said Hillocks; "he wes awfu'taen up wi' the bairns, conseederin' he hed nane o' his ain. " There was only one drift on the road between his cottage and thekirkyard, and it had been cut early that morning. Before daybreakSaunders had roused the lads in the bothy, and they had set to work bythe light of lanterns with such good will that, when Drumsheugh camedown to engineer a circuit for the funeral, there was a fair passage, with walls of snow twelve feet high on either side. [Illustration. ] "Man, Saunders, " he said, "this wes a kind thocht, and rael weel dune. " But Saunders' only reply was this: "Mony a time he's hed tae ganground; he micht as weel hae an open road for his last traivel. " [Illustration: "STANDING AT THE DOOR"] When the coffin was laid down at the mouth of the grave, the onlyblackness in the white kirkyard, Tammas Mitchell did the most beautifulthing in all his life. He knelt down and carefully wiped off the snowthe wind had blown upon the coffin, and which had covered the name, and when he had done this he disappeared behind the others, so thatDrumsheugh could hardly find him to take a cord. For these were theeight that buried Dr. MacLure--Lord Kilspindie at the head as landlordand Drumsheugh at his feet as his friend; the two ministers of theparish came first on the right and left; then Burnbrae and Hillocks ofthe farmers, and Saunders and Tammas for the plowmen. So the Glen heloved laid him to rest. When the bedrel had finished his work and the turf had been spread, LordKilspindie spoke: "Friends of Drumtochty, it would not be right that we should part insilence and no man say what is in every heart. We have buried theremains of one that served this Glen with a devotion that has known noreserve, and a kindliness that never failed, for more than forty years. I have seen many brave men in my day, but no man in the trenches ofSebastopol carried himself more knightly than William MacLure. You willnever have heard from his lips what I may tell you to-day, that myfather secured for him a valuable post in his younger days, and hepreferred to work among his own people; and I wished to do many thingsfor him when he was old, but he would have nothing for himself. He willnever be forgotten while one of us lives, and I pray that all doctorseverywhere may share his spirit. If it be your pleasure, I shall erecta cross above his grave, and shall ask my old friend and companion Dr. Davidson, your minister, to choose the text to be inscribed. " "We thank you, Lord Kilspindie, " said the doctor, "for your presencewith us in our sorrow and your tribute to the memory of William MacLure, and I choose this for his text: "'Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. '" Milton was, at that time, held in the bonds of a very bitter theology, and his indignation was stirred by this unqualified eulogium. "No doubt Dr. MacLure hed mony natural virtues, an' he did his warkweel, but it wes a peety he didna mak mair profession o' releegion. " "When William MacLure appears before the Judge, Milton, " said LachlanCampbell, who that day spoke his last words in public, and they were indefence of charity, "He will not be asking him about his professions, for the doctor's judgment hass been ready long ago; and it iss a goodjudgment, and you and I will be happy men if we get the like of it. "It is written in the Gospel, but it iss William MacLure that will notbe expecting it. " "What is't Lachlan?" asked Jamie Soutar eagerly. The old man, now very feeble, stood in the middle of the road, and hisface, once so hard, was softened into a winsome tenderness. "'Come, ye blessed of My Father . .. I was sick and ye visited Me. '" [Illustration: GREATER LOVE HATH NO MAN THAN THIS, THAT A MAN LAY DOWNHIS LIFE FOR HIS FRIENDS. ]