regshoe

Epigraph notes: The epigraph to Part IV is from 'Stanzas Written on Battersea Bridge during a Southwesterly Gale', by Hilaire Belloc, published in Sonnets and Verse (1923). Unlike the previous epigraphs, this one has no particular Jacobite or Highland connection—but I think these lines are a very good encapsulation of the sort of situation Broster likes to create in her books.

These chapters contain my second favourite Ewen/Keith line—which is to say, my second favourite line—in the whole book, so I'd just like to appreciate it:

Did he then think the ties between them so close when they were only . . . What were they then? Was it really only philanthropy, as Keith had assured himself a few hours ago, which had sent him back to the shieling that night? It was certainly not philanthropy which was driving him to Fort Augustus now.

<3

I love all the weather in these two chapters, from that chilling Highland mist at the beginning to the torrential rain later on. The weather here right now is rather wild, and it seems an appropriate moment to be reading these descriptions!

Keith begins chapter 1 by wavering again in his feelings for Ewen and his opinions of his own side; he seems rather easily influenced, or perhaps he scared himself off by his 'fit of philanthropy' and is trying to bring things back to safe, cynical normality. Even so, he still seems rather naive, with his thoughts of trying to use his influence with the Duke of Cumberland to help Ewen. For such a cynic, Keith certainly seems reluctant to think as badly of other people as they deserve—Guthrie, too, as he's shocked by the extent of Guthrie's cruelty to Ewen (and his malice towards Keith himself—although he was unaware of the motive for that until Paton tells him). Later, he himself thinks he 'could not have guessed' just how badly his own side would behave—upon which the omniscient narrator immediately points out some historical examples of how it's only going to get worse. I think there may be a point being made in here.

Nf sbe Xrvgu orvat n qrprag naq pbzcnffvbangr crefba va trareny, ur hajvggvatyl frnyf uvf bja sngr jura ur ceriragf Znpxnl sebz fgnoovat gur fhccbfrqyl qrnq Ynpuyna. :(

Oh dear, well, the honourable tangle is really working itself out now, isn't it... Poor Keith, listening to Paton's recital of Guthrie's cruelties, 'miserably', 'his hand over his eyes'. But poor Ewen! There's something terribly affecting about seeing him at a remove in Paton's narration, proud and defiant, as loyal to Lochiel as ever, and even showing the same loyalty to Keith—at first... :( And, honestly, poor Paton. I like that he asked news of Ewen at Fort Augustus—what a good guy.

I'm terribly amused by the bit where Keith thinks 'there can't POSSIBLY be anyone as awful as Guthrie at Fort Augustus', and then immediately gets to Fort Augustus and meets Captain Greening. No, Keith, I'm afraid there are more thoroughly unpleasant characters than you imagine in your cynicism.

And from then on it's one long string of Keith being horrified and indignant and terribly, terribly caring about Ewen and not caring at all what he says and does as he tries to help him. I think it helps when he doesn't have a chance to think about things and get into a muddle, as E. M. Forster might put it, and I love him in the second half of chapter 2, being a beautiful 'bonfire' of righteous fury to Lord Loudon. Even a serious threat to his own position finds him 'too passionately indignant to care', and when Lord Loudon actually arrests him it 'only inflamed Keith Windham’s rage'. Keith 'Certainly Not Philanthropy' Windham is at his best here, and I am cheering him on. <3