The Black Douglas

The Black Douglas

S. R. Crockett

Literature & Fiction / Travel

This story of life in Scotland during the 1400s focuses on the simple things: unrequited love, true love blocked by circumstance, arrogant ambition, and unbounded jealousy, all accompanied by vengeful feuding between individuals and clans who'd made themselves masters of the struggle for revenge. . . .In 2014 The Galloway Raiders was set up as a literary society and online presence to explore Crockett's life and work and restore his credibility as one of Scotland's great writers. The Galloway Raiders also holds two archives of Crockett material.
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The Men of the Moss-Hags

The Men of the Moss-Hags

S. R. Crockett

Literature & Fiction / Travel

Leopold Classic Library is delighted to publish this classic book as part of our extensive collection. As part of our on-going commitment to delivering value to the reader, we have also provided you with a link to a website, where you may download a digital version of this work for free. Many of the books in our collection have been out of print for decades, and therefore have not been accessible to the general public. Whilst the books in this collection have not been hand curated, an aim of our publishing program is to facilitate rapid access to this vast reservoir of literature. As a result of this book being first published many decades ago, it may have occasional imperfections. These imperfections may include poor picture quality, blurred or missing text. While some of these imperfections may have appeared in the original work, others may have resulted from the scanning process that has been applied. However, our view is that this is a significant literary work, which deserves to be brought back into print after many decades. While some publishers have applied optical character recognition (OCR), this approach has its own drawbacks, which include formatting errors, misspelt words, or the presence of inappropriate characters. Our philosophy has been guided by a desire to provide the reader with an experience that is as close as possible to ownership of the original work. We hope that you will enjoy this wonderful classic book, and that the occasional imperfection that it might contain will not detract from the experience.
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The White Plumes of Navarre: A Romance of the Wars of Religion

The White Plumes of Navarre: A Romance of the Wars of Religion

S. R. Crockett

Literature & Fiction / Travel

The night was hot in Paris. Breathless heat had brooded over the city all Saturday, the 23rd of August, 1572. It was the eve of Saint Bartholomew. The bell of Saint Germain l\'Auxerrois had just clashed out the signal. The Louvre was one blaze of lights. Men with lanterns and poleaxes, as if going to the shambles to kill oxen, hurried along the streets. Only in the houses in which were lodged the great Huguenot gentlemen, come to the city for the marriage of the King\'s sister Marguerite to the King of Navarre, there were darkness and silence. None had warned them—or, at least, they had taken no warning. If any suspected, the word of a King, his sworn oaths and multitudinous safe-conducts, lulled them back again into security. In one chamber, high above the courtyard, a light burned faint and steady. It was that beside the bed of the great Admiral—Coligny. He had been treacherously wounded by the arquebuse of one of the guard of the King\'s brother—Monsieur de France, Henry Duke of Anjou, afterwards to be known to history as Henry III., the favourite son of Catherine de Medici, the cunningest, and the most ungrateful.
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The Surprising Adventures of Sir Toady Lion with Those of General Napoleon Smith

The Surprising Adventures of Sir Toady Lion with Those of General Napoleon Smith

S. R. Crockett

Literature & Fiction / Travel

This work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important, and is part of the knowledge base of civilization as we know it. This work was reproduced from the original artifact, and remains as true to the original work as possible. Therefore, you will see the original copyright references, library stamps (as most of these works have been housed in our most important libraries around the world), and other notations in the work. This work is in the public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute this work, as no entity (individual or corporate) has a copyright on the body of the work. As a reproduction of a historical artifact, this work may contain missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. Scholars believe, and we concur, that this work is important enough to be preserved, reproduced, and made generally available to the public. We appreciate your support of the preservation process, and thank you for being an important part of keeping this knowledge alive and relevant.
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Lochinvar: A Novel

Lochinvar: A Novel

S. R. Crockett

Literature & Fiction / Travel

FROM LIKING TO LOVEIt was graying to the edge of dark upon one of the evenings towards the end of April, in the year 1688, when Walter Gordon, of Lochinvar in Galloway, and now for some time private in the Prince of Orange\'s Douglas regiment of dragoons, strode up the stairs of his cousin Will\'s lodging in the ancient Dutch city of Amersfort. The young man had come straight from duty at the palace, and his humor was not exactly gracious.But Wat Gordon could not long remain vexed in spirit in the presence of his cousin Will\'s wife, Maisie Lennox. Her still, sweet smile killed enmity, even as spring sunshine kills the bite of frost. The little, low-roofed Dutch room, panelled with oak, had its windows open towards the sun-setting, and there in the glow of the west two girls were sitting. At sight of them Walter Gordon stopped suddenly in the doorway as he came bursting in. He had been expecting to see but one—his cousin\'s young wife, into whose pretty ear of patientest sympathy he might pour his fretful boyish disappointments and much-baffled aspirations.Mistress Maisie Lennox, now for half a year Will Gordon of Earlstoun\'s wife (for by her maiden name she was still used to be called, and so she signed herself, since it had not yet become the custom for a women to take among her intimates the style of her husband\'s surname), sat on a high-backed chair by the oriel window. She had the kind of sunny hair which it is a pleasure to look upon, and the ripples of it made crisp tendrils about her brow. Her face underneath was already sweetening and gaining in reposefulness, with that look of matronhood which comes early to patient, gracious women, who would yet venture much for the man they love. And not once nor yet twice had Maisie Lennox dared all for those whom she loved—as has, indeed, elsewhere been told.CONTENTSForeword to the TaleFrom Liking to LoveWhy Kate Hated LochinvarThe Bull, the Calf, and the KillerThe Duel at the Inn of BrederodeHaxo the Bull InterferesThe Prince of OrangeMistress Maisie Lennox, DiplomatistThe Street of the ButcheryMy Lord of BarraThe Descent of AvernusThe Hearts of WomenThe Prison of AmersfortMy Lord of Barra\'s VowMaisie\'s Night QuestA Night of StormThe Breaking of the PrisonJack Scarlett Calls Himself a FoolA Perilous MeetingThe Battle of the DunesCaptain, My CaptainThe Good Ship Sea UnicornWise Jan PettigrewWise Jan Waxes WiserMadcap MehitabelTrue Love and PignutsA Boat in Sight at SuliscannaThe Tide-race of SuliscannaJohn Scarlett Comes AshoreWat\'s Isle of RefugeWat Swims the Water CavernBess Landsborough\'s CatechismThe Surrender of the BelovedAn Ancient Love AffairCaptor and CaptiveSkirting the BreakersPassage PerilousThe Isle of BlissMisfortunate ColinSatan Spies out ParadiseSerpent\'s EggsLove that Thinketh no EvilThe Fiery CrossColl o\' the CowsGreat DundeeKilliekrankieThe Leaguer of DunkeldThe Golden HeartThe Master Comes HomeThe Curate of DalryLochinvar Keeps TrystThe Bride\'s Loving-cupCatch Them Who Can!Within the King\'s MercyEpilogue of SupererogationILLUSTRATIONSWAT\'S HAND MOSTLY ON HIS SWEETHEART\'S SHOULDER\'I WILL TAKE MY OWN LOVE-TOKEN\'SCARLETT THUNDERED ON THE PANELS WITH THE HILT OF HIS SWORDTHE GENTLEMAN INSTANTLY ATTACKED THEM FURIOUSLYTHE MAN CARRIED HER EASILY THROUGH THE SURFA COUPLE OF PISTOL-SHOTS RANG OUT LOUDLYTHE SELF-SATISFACTION FLICKERED OUT OF HIS FACETHEN THE SWIRLING TIDE-RACE TOOK HOLD OF HERA GIGANTIC HIGHLANDER WITH A NAKED CLAYMORE BY HIS SIDEWAT PUSHED OFF IN THE SMALLER BOATSTRIDING FORWARD FRANKLY AND GIVING A HAND TO EACHHE FELL INWARD AMONG THE WOUNDEDWITH HIS LOVE BETWEEN HIS ARMS
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The Red Axe

The Red Axe

S. R. Crockett

Literature & Fiction / Travel

Well do I, Hugo Gottfried, remember the night of snow and moonlight when first they brought the Little Playmate home. I had been sleeping—a sturdy, well-grown fellow I, ten years or so as to my age—in a stomacher of blanket and a bed-gown my mother had made me before she died at the beginning of the cold weather. Suddenly something awoke me out of my sleep. So, all in the sharp chill of the night, I got out of my bed, sitting on the edge with my legs dangling, and looked curiously at the bright streams of moonlight which crossed the wooden floor of my garret. I thought if only I could swim straight up one of them, as the motes did in the sunshine, I should be sure to come in time to the place where my mother was—the place where all the pretty white things came from—the sunshine, the moonshine, the starshine, and the snow. And there would be children to play with up there—hundreds of children like myself, and all close at hand. I should not any longer have to sit up aloft in the Red Tower with none to speak to me—all alone on the top of a wall—just because I had a crimson patch sewn on my blue-corded blouse, on my little white shirt, embroidered in red wool on each of my warm winter wristlets, and staring out from the front of both my stockings. It was a pretty enough pattern, too. Yet whenever one of the children I so much longed to play with down on the paved roadway beneath our tower caught sight of it he rose instantly out of the dust and hurled oaths and ill-words at me—aye, and oftentimes other missiles that hurt even worse—at a little lonely boy who was breaking his heart with loving him up there on the tower.
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Deep Moat Grange

Deep Moat Grange

S. R. Crockett

Literature & Fiction / Travel

I was only a young fellow when these things began to happen among us, but I remember very well the morning when it first came out about the Bewick carrier. He was postman, too, but had got permission to keep a horse and cart so that he might make a good little bit by fetching parcels and orders from town. Town to us meant East Dene, and Bewick, to which Harry went, lay away to the east among the woods and hills. It was a lonesome place, Bewick, and, indeed, is still, though now they have got a railway coming within eight miles or so. But the mystery of the Moat Wood happened before there was any talk of railways.
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The Firebrand

The Firebrand

S. R. Crockett

Literature & Fiction / Travel

Samuel Rutherford Crockett (24 September 1859 – 16 April 1914), who published under the name "S. R. Crockett", was a Scottish novelist He was born at Duchrae, Balmaghie, Kirkcudbrightshire, on 24 September 1859, the illegitimate son of dairymaid Annie Crocket. He was raised on his grandfather\'s Galloway farm, won a bursary to Edinburgh University in 1876, and graduated from there during 1879. After some years of travel, he became in 1886 minister of Penicuik. During that year he produced his first publication, Dulce Cor (Latin: Sweet Heart), a collection of verse under the pseudonym Ford Brereton. He eventually abandoned the Free Church ministry for full-time novel-writing in 1895 The success of J. M. Barrie and the Kailyard school of sentimental, homey writing had already created a demand for stories in Lowland Scots,[3] when Crockett published his successful story of The Stickit Minister in 1893. It was followed by a rapidly produced series of popular novels frequently featuring the history of Scotland or his native Galloway. Crockett made considerable sums of money from his writing and was a friend and correspondent of R. L. Stevenson, but his later work has been criticised as being over-prolific and feebly sentimental. Crockett\'s connection with Kailyard is now beginning to be acknowledged as nebulous at best, as evidenced by a re-appraisal of the whole Kailyard concept by writers such as Andrew Nash.[5] In 1900, Crockett wrote a booklet published by the London camera manufacturer, Newman & Guardia, comparing cameras favourably to pen and pencil and explaining how he encountered the N and G advertisement
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