Guy Mannering | Page 6

have been long removed from the mortal
sphere.
Having thus given some account of the first idea, or rude sketch, of the
story, which was soon departed from, the Author, in following out the
plan of the present edition, has to mention the prototypes of the
principal characters in Guy Mannering.
Some circumstances of local situation gave the Author in his youth an
opportunity of seeing a little, and hearing a great deal, about that
degraded class who are called gipsies; who are in most cases a mixed
race between the ancient Egyptians who arrived in Europe about the
beginning of the fifteenth century and vagrants of European descent.
The individual gipsy upon whom the character of Meg Merrilies was
founded was well known about the middle of the last century by the
name of Jean Gordon, an inhabitant of the village of Kirk Yetholm, in
the Cheviot Hills, adjoining to the English Border. The Author gave the
public some account of this remarkable person in one of the early
numbers of Blackwood's Magazine, to the following purpose:--
'My father remembered old Jean Gordon of Yetholm, who had great
sway among her tribe. She was quite a Meg Merrilies, and possessed
the savage virtue of fidelity in the same perfection. Having been often
hospitably received at the farmhouse of Lochside, near Yetholm, she
had carefully abstained from committing any depredations on the
farmer's property. But her sons (nine in number) had not, it seems, the
same delicacy, and stole a brood-sow from their kind entertainer. Jean
was mortified at this ungrateful conduct, and so much ashamed of it
that she absented herself from Lochside for several years.
'It happened in course of time that, in consequence of some temporary
pecuniary necessity, the goodman of Lochside was obliged to go to
Newcastle to raise some money to pay his rent. He succeeded in his

purpose, but, returning through the mountains of Cheviot, he was
benighted and lost his way.
'A light glimmering through the window of a large waste barn, which
had survived the farm-house to which it had once belonged, guided him
to a place of shelter; and when he knocked at the door it was opened by
Jean Gordon. Her very remarkable figure, for she was nearly six feet
high, and her equally remarkable features and dress, rendered it
impossible to mistake her for a moment, though he had not seen her for
years; and to meet with such a character in so solitary a place, and
probably at no great distance from her clan, was a grievous surprise to
the poor man, whose rent (to lose which would have been ruin) was
about his person.
'Jean set up a loud shout of joyful recognition--
"Eh, sirs! the winsome gudeman of Lochside! Light down, light down;
for ye maunna gang farther the night, and a friend's house sae near."
The farmer was obliged to dismount and accept of the gipsy's offer of
supper and a bed. There was plenty of meat in the barn, however it
might be come by, and preparations were going on for a plentiful repast,
which the farmer, to the great increase of his anxiety, observed was
calculated for ten or twelve guests, of the same description, probably,
with his landlady.
'Jean left him in no doubt on the subject. She brought to his recollection
the story of the stolen sow, and mentioned how much pain and vexation
it had given her. Like other philosophers, she remarked that the world
grew worse daily; and, like other parents, that the bairns got out of her
guiding, and neglected the old gipsy regulations, which commanded
them to respect in their depredations the property of their benefactors.
The end of all this was an inquiry what money the farmer had about
him; and an urgent request, or command, that he would make her his
purse-keeper, since the bairns, as she called her sons, would be soon
home. The poor farmer made a virtue of necessity, told his story, and
surrendered his gold to Jean's custody. She made him put a few
shillings in his pocket, observing, it would excite suspicion should he
be found travelling altogether penniless.

'This arrangement being made, the farmer lay down on a sort of
shake-down, as the Scotch call it, or bed-clothes disposed upon some
straw, but, as will easily be believed, slept not.
'About midnight the gang returned, with various articles of plunder, and
talked over their exploits in language which made the farmer tremble.
They were not long in discovering they had a guest, and demanded of
Jean whom she had got there.
'"E'en the winsome gudeman of Lochside, poor body," replied Jean;
"he's been at Newcastle seeking for siller to pay his rent, honest man,
but deil-be-lickit he's been able to gather