In the Shadow of My Truth

“Mother that I must speak with you, tell you of that dreadful siege; the many memories so lost in wanton destruction. To relieve my heart of the terrible devastation from my own acts,” James said with emotional emphasis. “To share with my guilt, that the family chapel, the deftly painted decorations by my sisters, the wood carvings, that are all now gone from us.” He paused as his eyes were tearing up again. “Our once proud home but a mass of cinders around charred rubble and hewn stone,” the squire said mournfully. Ellie sat down next to her son and took his hand. “Dear James, many lang years ago this lass first came to Douglas Castle,” she told him, choosing her sentiments carefully, speaking slowly as she tried to comfort him with her words. “Our home now is destroyed and only you and I so recall that loving place we shared with our William, and our sweet lasses Mura, Martha and Amy with dear wee John, all now with God. Pray, continue; and spare me nothing of the sights you saw before the deed was done.” James began by telling her that he went through the castle carefully; stopping to take inventory of anything he might salvage. He brought with him whatever he could from each chamber. He described the large wooden boxes, some of which were over four feet lang and filled with tapestries and other fineries. He explained that he had the presence of mind to pack up family’s possessions, securing them to places of safe keeping. “This lad commanded the removal of the wooden carvings and adornments from the withdrawing room and the old platt-and-scale stairs,” he told her; describing how he tried to save as much as he could. He was also honest, confessing that with each chamber he entered he was overcome with emotion. “There were so many memories,” he said emotionally. “That sadly those dear thoughts I was forced to leave behind.” James looked up at Ellie and noticed she was deep in a reverie of her own, perhaps there in the past with his father he suspected. As she felt his eyes upon her she returned his gaze and beckoned him to continue telling her about those final minutes before Douglas Castle was razed. “My heart so stirred in every chamber, the Three Headed Monster in the withdrawing room; the elegant fireplace in the great hall where one morning the wee Fortis greeted this lad on his birthday and the chapel where the Douglas children decided spying was better than praying.” By now, James and Ellie were laughing as mother and son recalled those happier days and the many poignant memories of their life together with Gilley in Douglasdale. “Then at last this lad had made his way to our father’s special place; the wall walk of the parapet, to look upon my Douglasdale for the last time from that sacred place,” James said alluding to Gilley’s private sanctuary. Ellie smiled to recall the many times she found her husband there and how he welcomed her to his personal abode with open arms. “That you dear James would know of this,” she said, sighing softly. He understood and acknowledged that only his mother could share those precious memories with him. They both realized that the tragedy was not so much about a stronghold that was razed but of a home that would be forever lost from them; chambers that would inspire memories of children’s voices they could no longer hear; smiling faces that were no longer visible to them, having passed to the Otherworld of the Celts. “This lad must build another castle but it can never be a better one. That I ran my hands most over the fine hewn stone, noticing the mason marks for the first time in many years as I made my way down the left-sided turnpike stairs,” James said reminding her of the special stone steps his grandfather built for left handed warriors to defend. “This squire did his best to recall most every detail; to never forget that I might create another in its place.” “Perhaps to make some memories for yourself,” Ellie suggested, inferring that it was perhaps, now long overdue, that he might think of starting his own family. “Of these days such thoughts are not possible,” he said with a scoff. Lady Douglas was not deterred. “Love comes at the strangest of times dear James, that you will know when it is true and right. But children bring a sense of hope; a knowing that the future can only be better from the work we do on their behalf most now,” she concluded. He realized that she was speaking for herself as much as she was for him. “That Lady El so wants to be a grandmother,” he said with a grin. She shook her head and started to giggle. “To hold a wee one lad or lassie makes no difference as my Gilley would say; a child to carry our good name of Douglas; more heirs for Douglasdale,” she proclaimed giddily, mimicking his father in every word. “Come, these clothes do we have for you,” Ellie told her son. She rose from her seat, deciding it was time to change the subject. She handed him some fine mantels and surcotes that she had intended for him since the spring, whenever she saw him again. “You have fashioned fair work to alter these garments,” he said as he ran his hands over the new embroidery, handsomely applied to his father’s former attire. Ellie then quickly advised him that she sent the two English servants not known to James on an errand with Sir David; that he could join the family in the great hall without concern. “This lad will be most there and quickly,” he said, assuring her he would be careful. Ellie then took her leave of him. James reflected on her words. “Perhaps it was time to visit Lady Joanna in Logan,” he said thoughtfully. Then he quietly dressed himself and joined the others in the great hall. Hugh was already finished breaking his fast but waiting patiently for the arrival of James. “Beware the thieving hound,” Archie said solemnly as Lindsay lurked about the large trestle table next to the fireplace where a small peat fire crackled playfully in the background. “How many times has this mother so warned her son?” Ellie asked, with a scolding tone. Archie was dour. The Deerhound had scoffed a cinnamon cake from his hand as he was talking to Hugh; a luxury to have as but a few were prepared and only for special occasions. “Henklebaldicus,” his mother said forgivingly, “that there are enough for you to have one more.” Ellie knew her youngest son shared his father’s passion for the sweet pastry and decided to relent this one time. James was laughing at his wee brother. “Perhaps the hound can be persuaded most to share,” he teased Archie. Hugh was growing impatient. He wanted to know about the state of their home and if anything survived the destruction. Hugh hoped to visit Douglas one day, praying that something might remind him of the life he really did not remember. The squire’s face fell as he recalled the promise made to his brother. He quietly began to share the story of his saddest day as he described the tragic event. “All that remains of that once proud fortress, most now an empty relic are the scorched stones and burned timbers of devastation. Many of the loving paintings of our sweet sisters and dear mother destroyed,” James continued to say as tears welled up in his eyes. Ellie felt the warmth of tears flow down her own cheeks as Ana sitting next to her was wiping her face as well, trying to mask the sadness she felt. “The pride of generations now stands empty as my heart, devoid of feelings,” the squire said. James was looking more like a troubled youth than one of Scotland’s most feared warriors. “Most again we set fires to raze the remains of the former residence where our father held baronial court. This lad watched the old earth and timber hall burn completely, leveled to the ground. Then we set fires in the newer tower of stone.” James drew in another breath, for courage that he could continue.