Drovers Driven to Distraction/Distress

I think "The Two Drovers" is a very lovely story in its language. Sir Walter Scott has a fantastic ear for accents in his dialogue, spicing the musicality of Scottish highland lilt with colloquialisms that are sometimes translated and sometimes left to us to figure out. What is confusing is the constant change in narrative structure and point of view. It is only towards the end of the tale that we learn who the narrator actually is and his relationship to the events, "I was myself present, and as a young Scottish lawyer, or barrister at least, and reputed to be a man of some quality, the politeness of the Sheriff of Cumberland offered me a place on the bench" (21). Prior to this belated introduction, the narrator assumes an omniscient position on the life of drovers in the area and the friendship of Harry Wakefield and Robin Oig in particular. Really, the narrator's point of view is rather unimportant; the story, a rather untragic Shakespearean tragedy of politicized misunderstanding, proceeds through dialogue in many different registers and arguably languages, which Scott does brilliantly.

Interestingly, the fact that the narrator is Scottish is evident in the narration that splices the opening dialogue among the Scottish characters, although this is not revealed until the trial. The musicality of the narration underscores the idyllic pastoral relationship between the two drovers that will be fractured by misunderstanding, as well as the narrator's implicit sympathy with the plight of Robin Oig as a Scottsman.

"There was a natural variety in the whole journey, which exercised the Celt's natural curiosity and love of motion; there were the constant change of place and scene, the petty adventures incidental to the traffic, and the intercourse with the various farmers, graziers, and traders, intermingled with occasional merry-makings, not the less acceptable to Donald that they were void of expense;--and there was the consciousness of superior skill; for the Highlander, a child amongst flocks, is a prince amongst herds, and his natural habits induce him to disdain the shepherd's slothful life, so that he feels himself nowhere more at home than when following a gallant drove of his country cattle in the character of their guardian" (2).

This absurdly long sentence is replete with alliteration, causing it to proceed in a cyclical manner that turns back on itself like a song with a chorus. The many hard c's supply a beat. The jolliness of the content give it the subject matter of perhaps a drinking song, or a song for lonely journeys over the highlands with droves of cows. At first, the introduction of the name Donald is confusing--is he to be our first mention of a character? Then, we must conclude that the name is common and simply stands for the average highland drover. Scott presents this inside knowledge to us without explanation.

In the following sentence, Scott adds much italicized Gaelic, some translated and some not.
"Of the number who left Doune in the morning, and with the purpose we described, not a Glunamie of them all cocked his bonnet more briskly, or gartered his tartan hose under knee over a pair of more promising spiogs (legs) than did Robin Oig M'Combich, called familiarly Robin Oig, that is, Young, or the Lesser, Robin" (2).

In this sentence, Scott translates in different ways. The first Gaelic word Glunamie is not translated, but we can gather from context that it must related to the expression "not one of them...". Spiogs is translated parenthetically, while finally Oig is translated in an extended exposition of the main character's name, so that the name is repeated and renamed five times. This sentence is also a mouthful of rhythm, each clause pacing the sentence, with the alliteration of bonnet more briskly and the assonance of gartered his tartan punctuating the middle clauses, which run into the pair of more promising spiogs (legs) that employs alliterated first and last syllables, and ends with the riddle of Robins.

The musicality disappears from the narrator's inconsistent voice when he is describing the activities of the Englishman Harry Wakefield. "At the same time he rebuked his servant severely for having transgressed his commands, and ordered him instantly to assist in ejecting the hungry and weary cattle of Harry Wakefield, which were just beginning to enjoy a meal of unusual plenty, and to introduce those of his comrade, whom the English drover now began to consider as a rival" (10). While much of the earlier alliteration remains, the overwrought vocabulary is awkward when describing such mundane activities.

Scott is able to distinguish Wakefield's accent from Robin Oig's with different colloquialisms. "Take it all, man--take it all--never make two bites of a cherry--thou canst talk over the gentry, and blear a plain man's eye--Out upon you, man--I would not kiss any man's dirty latchets for leave to bake in his oven" (10). The vocabulary and emphasis is different than Robin Oig's speech and sounds definitively English.

Robin Oig's speech, in moments of high passion in particular, gives way to an almost indecipherable brogue, that is as alienating for an unfamiliar reader as it must be to Wakefield. "Nae doubt, nae doubt...and you are a set of very pretty judges, for those prains or pehavior I wad not gie a pinch of sneeshing. If Mr Harry Waakfelt kens where he is wranged, he kens where he may be righted" (13).

Finally the story ends with the very lengthy speech from the judge at Robin Oig's trial for the murder of Wakefield. The end of the story loses me with the judge's impenetrable language that is so heavily qualified and vacilating in opinion it seems impossible to discern what he really thinks. A sample, "In the heat of affray and chaude melée, law, compassionating the infirmities of humanity, makes allowances for the passions which rule such a stormy moment--for the sense of present pain, for the apprehension of further injury, for the difficulty of ascertaining with due accuracy the precise degree of violence which is necessary to protect the person of the individual, without annoying or injuring the assailant more than is absolutely requisite" (24). Note the gerund-verbage of compassion!

It seems that whatever political point Scott has about the tragic results of linguistic and cultural misunderstanding between English and Scottish is buried in the judge's dense speech. There is in fact quite a lot of indication that there is something more complex behind this story but it is too exhausting to dig it out. The confusing narrative structure of this story makes it mainly a showcase for Scott's excellent ability to play with language.