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Caledonian Rhapsody and Tales of the Class of 1922

by John Watson Gilbert

180 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #02-0603; ISBN 1-55369-790-1; US$18.50, C$21.50, EUR15.50, £11.00

Caledonian Rhapsody starts in 1777 Highland, Scotland when a stable boy becomes enamored with the daughter of a Baron, his employer. Romance ensues. Tales of the Class of 1922 includes college tales from a private men's college, between 1918 to 1922

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about the book      about the author      excerpts      catalogue info

About the Book Caledonian Rhapody is a historical romance set in Scotland 1777 to early 1800s. A stable boy becomes a baron's gentleman and falls in love with the Baron's high-spirited daughter. His affection is reciprocated by the Baron's daughter and eventually turns the girl against her father. She is forced to marry a rich man who died and she manages to revive the romance and marry the boy. Tales of the Class of 1922 features college stories of a football player, aviator, jewish student, Beau Brummel, Bootlegger and more.

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About the Author Graduate of Lafayette College and University of Michigan Law School. College newspaper Editor in Chief. Father graduated same college, Class of 1922. Spent one year as professional journalist. New Jersey lawyer for 42 years. Ancestry: 3/4 Scot. Visited Scotland twice. Nickname: 'Jack'. College Class Secretary and Newsletter Correspondent for past 23 years. Married with two children and four grandchidren.

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Excerpts

1. from Caledonian Rhapsody

Having passed the village of Iverlochy near the head of Loch Awe, the coach and four approached a heavy thicket of woods to the right not far from Kilchurn Castle. Hiding in that thicket stood an armed highwayman intent on robbing the next rich-looking coach, which turned out to be that of the Livingstones. As the conveyance came closer to the thicket, the brigand suddenly spurred his steed into the roadway, blocking the relatively slow-moving coach.

"Stand and deliver!" bellowed the highwayman. As Jock sharply reined in the bays, bringing the coach to an abrupt halt, he could feel the sharp heat of anger quickly travel up his back, onto his neck and face.

"Who do ye think ye arr, Rob Roy Macgregor?" quickly yelled back Jock, almost as if his reply were rehearsed. The coachman could not reach the old flintlock long gun, jammed as it were into a leather holster on the left of his seat, a weapon that would have taken too long to load and fire anyway. Thus, he had only one option, as we will see.

Meanwhile, the four Livingstones, angry, frightened and emotionally hurt, trooped out of the coach at the command of the robber. They lined up in a row at the side of the coach. The man dismounted, carefully holding his cocked pistol in their direction. "Empty your pockets. Give me all our jewelry. Do you have any money bags in your luggage?" the robber questioned eagerly.
As soon as the robber looked away form Jock, the latter moved to the edge of his seat. With his stout heart and young legs, Jock Watson had the ability boldly to leap down from the coach, landing upon the highwayman, pulling him to the ground. As the two antagonists wrestled, they rolled over and over, two strong men locked in battle for the one-shot pistol, At first, Jock grabbed the brigand's right wrist, trying to shake the gun loose from his grip, but to no avail. Little in the way of words came form the grapplers, other than grunts and groans exemplifying their mighty efforts, such exertion that took nearly all of their breath.

"Come on Jock," cried Janet. "You can win!"

The Baron added "Good show, my boy. Get that pistol!"

Jock was doing his best to accomplish that very thing. The highwayman finally broke Jock's grip pointing the weapon directly at Jock's head. "Back off me lad and back off now. I've no reason not to use this weapon on you."

Backing up at first on his knees, Jock rose to his feet. The brigand arose as well, pistol still aimed at Jock. The coachman carefully, slowly, backed up another ten feet. He knew of the notorious inaccuracy of these flintlock pistols, so the farther away be became, the better the chance he had of avoiding the shot, a round cast iron projectile. "Will you stand down now and let me finish my task?" questioned the robber. Jock said nothing, having backed away now to some 20 feet from the aggressor. The Livingstones were still standing together near the carriage, watching with a mixture of excitement and terror.

The robber addressed Jock. "It looks as if I'll have to take you out somehow, for you look like the courageous type who would ignore even a pistol." Upon uttering this statement, the man lowered the pistol slightly, aiming for Jock's lower half. As this movement took place, Jock turned and dived for the ground to his right, attempting to avoid the inevitable bullet. As he did so, the pistol suddenly unloaded its deadly charge, the smell of gunpowder quickly permeating the scene. Terrified, Janet flung her hands to her mouth in a frenzy of fear. Jock screamed as he was struck on his left foot, partially protected by the thick sole of his boot. Yet the round had penetrated the boot and his flesh, causing what later medical knowledge found to be damage to the two smallest toes of his left foot.

However, this determined not to be a wound sufficient to dampen the still raging anger of young Jock. He swiftly raised himself to his feet, knowing there would be no time for the man to reload. Propelled by anger and hurt he limped forward as fast as he could toward the highwayman, grabbing him around the waist, pushing and pulling him down on his back as Jock's strength increased with his anger. The man tried to hit Jock on the head with the empty pistol but Jock grabbed it with both of his hands, tearing it fiercely from the man's grasp, heaving it far to the side where the Baron picked it up. With his opponent thrown on his back, Jock seized the advantage, pummeling the man with his strong arms and fists. "Take that, y' swine! And that and that" Jock cried our viciously as he verbally punctuated his punches, bashing him repeatedly in the jaw, nose and cheeks with his fists. After a few minutes, Jock, wounded but game, managed to subdue his quarry.

2. from Caledonian Rhapsody

On the second day after Jock arrived at Bachuil, he found himself infinitely pleased to meet the prettiest lass he had ever laid eyes on. She had been walking toward him at the stables in a light blue dress with color matching bonnet, gloves, shoes and parasol. As she approached, he stood in awe as he slowly drank in abundantly curly red hair, green eyes, creamy white skin -- all this topped off with a pleasant smile.

"Hello, Jock! My name is Janet Livingstone. I understand you are the new stable boy."

"How are you?"

Almost tongue-tied, but completely delighted at this turn of events, young Jock managed to say "Aye, Miz Livingstone. A'm well. How are you?"

3. from THE OLYMPIAN

A cruel practice named the Cane Rush still held forth at Pardee College in the early part of the 20th century. Two rows of eager sophomores lined up with canes, sticks billiard cues in their hands; freshmen having the dubious privilege of running between these rows of vicious sophs while the latter took mighty whacks upon tender flesh and shinbone, causing cries and screams of agony from the said frosh.

4. from THE BEAU BRUMMEL

The common dictionary definition of 'flapper' reads: "A young, wild duck, patridge, etc., just learning to fly; hence in the 1920's a young girl considered bold and unconventional in actions and dress." Bold and unconventional indeed had become many of those girls; rumors often whispered from male lips more from hope than fact that some had achieved sufficient boldness to design to wear any underwear at all while socializing with the other sex.

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Catalogue Information

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