MINSTRELSY SCOTTISH BORDER. IN THREE PARTS. n^ vi ^: JVilNSTRELSY OF THE SCOTTISH BORDER: CONSISTING OP HISTORICAL AND ROMANTIC BALLADS, COLLECTED IN THE SOUTHERN COUNTIES OF SCOTLAND ; WITH A FEW OF MODERN DATE, FOUNDED UPON LOCAL TRADITION. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. II. The songs, to savage virtue dear. That won of yore the public ear ; Ere Polity, sedate and sage. Had quench'd the fires of feudal rage. KELSO: PRINTED BY JAMES BAtLANTYNE, FOR T. CADELL, JUN. AND W. DAVIES, STRAND, LONDON AND SOLD BY MANNERS AND MILLER, AND A. CONSTABLE, EDINBUUGII- 1802. MINSTRELSY SCOTTISH BORDER. PART SECOND. ROMANTIC BALLADS. CONTENTS TO THE SECOND VOLUME. ROMANTIC BALLADS. Page Scotish Music, an Ode 1 The Gay Goss Hawk 7 Brown Adam l6 Jellon Grame 20 Willie's Ladye 27 Clerk Saunders 33 Earl Richard 42 The Lass of Lochroyan 49 Rose the Red and White Lilly 60 Fause Foodrage 7^ Kempion 84 Lord Thomas and Fair Annie 102 The Wife of Usher's Well Ill Cospatrick 117 Prince Robert 124 King Henrie 129 Annan Water 138 The Cruel Sister 143 Lament of the Queen's Marie 151 The Flowers of the Forest, Part 1 156 , Part II l6l The Laird of Muirhead l65 Introduction to the Tale of Tamlane 167 The Young Tamlane 228 Thomas the Rhymer, Part 1 244 Part II 257 Part III 283 The Bonny Hynd 296 O gin my Love were yon Red Rose 302 O tell me how to Woo Thee 304 IMITATIONS OF THE ANCIENT BALLAD. The Eve of St John 309 Lord Soulis 327 The Cout of Keeldar 355 Glenfinlas, or Lord Ronald's Coronach 374 SGOTISH MUSIC. AN ODE. BY J. LEYDEN. TO lANTHE. Again, sweet Syren, breathe again That deep, pathetic, powerful strain ; Whose melting tones, of saddest woe, Fall soft as evening's summer dew. That bathes the pinks and harebells blue i; s Which in the vales of Tiviot blow. Such was the song that soothed to rest, Far in the green isle of the west. The Celtic warrior's parted shade ; Such are the lonely sounds that sweep O'er the blue bosom of the deep, / Where ship-wrecked mariners are laid. Vol. II. A Fair was her cheek's carnation glow. Like red blood on a wreath of snow ; Like evening's dewy star her eye : While, as the sea mew's downy breast. Borne on the surge's foamy crest. Her graceful bosom heaved the sigh. In youth's first morn, alert and gay, Ere rolling years had passed away. Remembered like a morning dream, I heard these dulcet measures float. In many a liquid winding note. Along the banks of Teviot's stream. Sweet sounds ! that oft have soothed to rest The sorrows of my guileless breast. And charmed away mine infant tears : Fond memory shall your strains repeat. Like distant echoes, doubly sweet. That in the wild the traveller hears. And thus, the exiled Scotian maid. By fond alluring love betrayed, To visit Syria's date-crowned shore ; In plaintive strains, that soothed despair. Did " Bothwell's banks that bloom so fair," And scenes of early youth, deplore. Soft Syren ! whose enchanting strain Floats wildly round my raptured brain, I bid your pleasing haunts adieu ! Yet, fabling fancy oft shall lead My footsteps to the silver Tweed, Thro' scenes that I no more must view. A 3 NOTES SCOTISH MUSIC, AN ODE. Tar in the green isle of the west. P. 1 . Verse 2. The Flathinnis, or Celtic paradJse. Ah ! sure, as Hind& legends tell. P. 2. Verse 1. The effect of music is explained by the Hindus, as recalling to our memory the airs of paradise heard in a state of pre-existence. Vide S a- contala. Did '' 'Both-well' s banks that bloom so fair." P. 4. Verse 4. " So fell it out of late years, that an English gentleman, travelling in Palestine, not ftr from Jerusalem, as he passed through a country town, he heard, by chance, a woman sitting at her door, dandling her child, to sing Bothiuel bank thou hlumest fair. The gentleman hereat exceed- ingly wondered, and forth%vith, in English, saluted the woman, who joyfully answered him } and said she was right glad there to see a gen- tleman of our isle : and told him that she was a Scotish woman, and came first from Scotland to Venice, and from Venice thither, where her fortune was to be the wife of an officer under tlie Turk } who being at that instant absent, and very soon to return, she intreated the gentleman to stay there until his return. The which he did ; and she, for country sake, to shew herself the more kind and bountiful unto him, told her hus- band at his home-coming, that the gentleman was her kinsman ; where- upon her husband entertained him very kindly ; and at his departure gave him divers things of good y^luc^'Ventlgan's Restitution of Decayed In- telligence. Chat. Of the Stmamtt of our y^ncient Families. Antwerp, 1605. .tf To her the letter gave. " Have there a letter from Lord William ; He says he's sent ye three : He canna wait your love langer. But for your sake he'll die." 11 " Gae bid hiin bake his bridal bread. And brew his bridal ale ; And I sail meet him at Mary's kirk, ;A Lang, lang, ere it be stale." ^ Tlie ladye's gane to her chamber. And a moanfu' woman was she ; As gin she had ta'en a sudden brash*,. And were about to die. iv ?' -vi '^ A boon, a boon, my father deir, A boon I beg of thee !" *' Ask not that paughty Scotish lord. For him you ne'er shall see. ^' But, for your honest asking else, Weel granted it shall be." " Then, gin I die in southern land. In Scotland gar bury me. ,. .; v, " And the first kirk that ye come to, Ye's gar the mass be sung ; And the next kirk that ye come to, Ye's gar the bells be rang. * Brash Sickness. " And, when ye come to St Mary's kirk, Ye's tarry there till night." And so her father pledged his word. And so his promise plight. She has ta'en her to her bigly hour. As fast as she could fare ; And she has drank a sleepy draught. That she had mixed wi' care. And pale, pale, grew her rosy cheek. That was sae bright of blee ; And she seemed to be as surely dead. As any one could be. They drapt a drap o' the burning red gowd. They drapt it on her chin ; *' And ever alas !" her mother cried, ** There is nae life within !" They drapt a drap o' the burning red gowd. They drapt it on her breast bane ; " Alas !" her seven bauld brothers said, " Our sister's dead and gane." 13 Then up arose her seven brethren. And hew'd to her a bier ; They hew'd it frae the soUd aik. Laid it o'er wi' silver clear. Then up and gat her seven sisters, And sewed to her a kell ; And every steek that they pat in, Sew'd to a siller bell. The first Scots kirk that they cam to. They gar'd the bells be rang ; The next Scots kirk that they cam to^ They gar'd the mass be sung. But when they cam to St Mary's kirk. There stude spearmen all on raw ; And up and started Lord William, The chieftane simang them a'. " Set down, set down, the bier," he said ; " Let me looke her upon :" But as soon as Lord William touched her hand, Her colour began to come. 14 She brightened like the lily flower. Till her pale colour was gone ; With rosy cheek, and ruby lip. She smiled her love upon. " A morsel of your bread, my lord. And one glass of your wine : For 1 hae fasted these three lang days. All for your sake and mine. " Gae hame, gae hame, my seven bauld brothers Gae hame and blaw your horn : I trow you wad hae gien me the skaith. But I've gien you the scorn." " Ah ! woe to you, you light woman ! An ill death may you die ! For we left father and mother at hame. Breaking their hearts for thee." 15 NO T E S . iJ* THE GAY GOSS HAWK. JKWRfWP-li*-*''^'^"- 7%e red ^^a^' on my true love s cheeky is like blood drops . on. the snaw. ^P. 8. Verse 5. . . This simile ffesembles a passage in a MS. translation ofiti Irish feiry tale, called TAe Adrventura of Faravla, Princess of Scotland, und Carral 0''Daly, son of Donogho More O'Daly, Chief Bard of Ireland. " Faravla, as she entered her bower, cast her looks upon the earth, which was tinged with the blood of a bird which a raven had newly kil- led ; " Like that snow," said Faravla, " was the complexion of my beloved, his cheeks like the sanguine traces thereon j whilst the raven recalls to my memory the colour of his beautiful locks."^ , There is also some resemblance, in the conduct of the story, betwixt the ballad and the tale just quoted. The Princess Faravla, being desperately in love with Carral O'Daly, dispatches in search of him a faithful confidant, who, by her magical art, transforms herself into a hawk, and, perching upon the windows of the bard, conveys to him in- formation of the distress of the Princess of Scotland. In the ancient romance of Sir Tristrem, the simile of the " blood drops upon snow" likewise occurs- " A bride brizt thai ches " As blod opon snoweing." Id BROWN ADAM. NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. There is a copy of this ballad in Mrs Brown's collection. The editor has seen one, printed on a single sheet. The epithet " Smith" implies, probably, the surname, not the profession, of the hero, who seems to hate been an outlaw. There is, however, in Mrs Brown's cop^, a verse of little merit, here omitted, alluding to the implements of that oc- cupation. O wha wad wish the wind to blaw, Or the green leaves fa' therewith ? Or wha' wad wish a lealer love Than Brown Adam the Smith ? But they hae banished him. Brown Adam, Frae father and fra^mother ; And they hae banished him. Brown Adam, Frae sister and frae brother. 17 And they hae banished him, Brown Adam, The flow'r o' a' his kin ; And he's bigged a hour in gude green wood, Atween his ladye and him. It fell upon a summer's day. Brown Adam he thought lang ; And for to hunt some venison. To green wood he wald gang. He has ta'en his bow his arm o'er. His bolts and arrows lang ; And he is to the gude green wood. As fast as he could gang. O he's shot up, and he's shot down. The bird upon the brier : And he's sent it hame to his ladye. Bade her be of gude cheir. O he's shot up, and he's shot down. The bird upon the thorn ; And sent it hame to his ladye. Said he'd be hame the morn. Vol. II. B 18 When he cam to his ladye's hour door. He stude a little forebye ; And there he heard a fou' fause knight Tempting his gaye ladye. For he has ta'en out a gay goud ring. Had cost him mony a poun' " O grant me love for love, ladye. And this sail be thy own." ^' I lo'e Brown Adam weel," she said ; " 1 trew sae does he me : I wadna gie Brown Adam's love For nae fause knight I see." Out has he ta'en a purse o' govvd. Was a' fou to the string " O grant me love for love, ladye, And a' this sail be thine." " I loe Brown Adam weel," she says ; " I wot sae does he me : I wadna be your light lemman. For mair than ye could gie." 19 Then out he drew his lang bright brand. And flashed it in her een " Now giant me love for love, ladye. Or thro' ye this sail gang !" Then, sighing, says that ladye fair " Brown Adam tanies lang!" Then in and starts him Brown Adam, Says " I'm just at your hand." He's gar'd him leave his bonny bow. He's gar'd him leave his brand. He's gar'd him leave a dearer pledge Four fingers o' his right hand. B 2 20 JELLON GRAME. NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. This ballad is published from tradition, with some con- jectural emendations. It is corrected by a copy in Mrs Brown's MS. from which it differs in the concluding stanzas. Some verses are apparently modernized. Jellon seems to be the sapie name with Jyllian or Julia/i. " Jyl of Brentford's Testament" is mentioned in Warton's History of Poetry, Vol. 2. p. 40. The name repeatedly oc- curs in old ballads, sometimes as that of a man, at other times as that of a woman. Of the former is an instance in the ballad of " The Knight and the Shepherd's Daughter," Reliques of Ancient Poetry, Vol. 3. p. 72. *< Some do call me Jacke, sweetheart, * And some do call me JilU.'"''^ Yox Gille, or Juliana, as a female name, we have Fair Gillian of Croyden, and a thousand authorities. Such be- ing the case, the editor must enter his protest against the n conversion of Gil Morrice, into Child Maurice, an epithet of chivalry. All the circumstances in that ballad argue, that the unfortunate hero was an obscure, and very young man, who had never received the honour of knighthood. At any rate, there can be no reason, even were internal evidence totally wanting, for altering a well known proper name, which, till of late years, has been the uniform title of the ballad. B 3 S2 JELLON GRAME. O Jellon Grame sat in Silverwood*, He sharp'd his broad sword iang, And he has call'd his httle foot page, An errand for to gang. " Win up, my bonny boy," he says^ " As quickly as ye may ; For ye maun gang for Lillie Flower, Before the break of day." The boy has buckled his belt about, And thro' the green wood ran ; And he came to the ladye's bower. Before the day did dawn. Silverwood, mentioned in this ballad, occurs in a MS. medley song, which seems to have been copied from the first edition of the Aberdeen can- tus, penes John G. Dalyxll, Esq. advocate. One line only is cited, apparently the beginning of some song: " Silverwood, gin ye were mine." 23 " O sleep ye, wake ye, Lillie Flower r The red sun's on the rain : Ye're bidden come to Silverwood, But I doubt ye'il never win hanie." She had na ridden a mile, a mile, A mile but barely three. Ere she cam to a new made giave. Beneath a green aik tree. O then up started Jellon Grame, Out of a bush there bye " Light down, light down, now, Lillie Flower, For it's here that ye maun lye." She hghted afF her milk-white steed. And kneel'd upon her knee " O mercy, mercy, Jellon Grame, F'or Fm no prepared to die ! " Your bairn, that stirs between my side*. Maun shortly see the light ; Rut to see it weltering in my blood. \V ould be a piteous sight." B 4 24. " O should I spare your life," he says, " Until that bairn were bom. Full weel I ken your auld father Would hang me on the morn." " O spare my life ! now, Jellon Grame ; My father ye need na dread : I'll keep my babe in gude green wood. Or wi' it I'll beg my bread." He took no pity on Lillie Flower, Tho' she for life did pray ; But pierced her thro' the fair body. As at his feet she lay. He felt nae pity for Lillie Flower, Where she was lying dead ; But he felt some for the bonny bairn, That lay weltering in her bluid. Up has he ta'en that bonny boy. Given him to nurses nine ; Three to sleep, and three to wake, And three to go between. 25 And he bred up that bonny boy, Call'd him his sister's son ; And he thought no eye could ever see The deed that he had done. O so it fell, upon a day, When hunting they might be. They rested them in Silverwood, Beneath that green aik tree. And mony were the green wood flowers Upon the grave that grew. And marvell'd much that bonny boy To see their lovely hue. " What's paler than the prymrose wan r What's redder than the rose ? What's fairer than the lilye flower. On this wee know * that grows ?" O out and answered Jellon Grame, And he spake hastilie " Your mother was a fairer flower. And lies beneath this tree. * fVee /^ow Little hillock. 26 More pale she was, when she sought my grace, Than prymrose pale and wan ; And redder than rose her ruddy heart's blood, That down my broad sword ran." Wi' that the boy has bent his bow. It was baith stout and lang ; And thro' and thro' him, Jellon Grarae, He gar'd an arrow gang. Says *' Lie ye there, now, Jellon Grame ; My malisoun gang you wi' ! The place my mother lies buried in Is far too good for thee." 27 WILLIE'S LADYE. ANCIENT COPY. KEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. Mr Lewis, in his Tales of Wonder, has presented the public with a copy of this ballad, with additions and al- terations. The editor has also seen a copy, containing some modern stanzas, intended by Mr Jamieson, of Mac- clesfield, for publication in his collection of Scotish poetry. Yet, under these disadvantages, the editor cannot relinquish his purpose of publishing the old ballad, in its native sim- plicity, as taken from INIrs Brown of Faulkland's MS. Those who wish to know how an incantation, or charm, of the distressing nature here described, was^ performed in classic days, may consult the story of Galanthis's Meta- morphosis, in Ovid, or the following passage in Apuleius. " Eadem (Saga scilicet qucedamj, Amatoris uxoran, quod *' in sibi dicacule probrum dixerat, Jam in sarcinam protgna- *' tionis, obsepto utero, et repigrato foetu, perpetua protgna- " tione dainnavit. Et ut cunctinumerant , octoannorum onere, " misella ilia, lelut elephantum paritura, disfenditur." Apul. Metam. lib. 1. S8 WILLIE'S LADYE. Willie's ta'en him o'er the faem *, He's wooed a wife, and brought her hame ; He's wooed her for her yallow hair. But his mother wrought her meikle care : And meikle dolour gar'd her drie. For lighter she can never be. But in her hour she sits wi' pain. And Willie mourns o'er her in vain. And to his mother he has gane. That vile rank witch, o' vilest kind ! He says " My ladye has a cup, Wi' gowd and silver set about. This gudely gift sail be your ain. And let her be lighter o' her young bairn."- * Faem The sea foam. 29 " Of her young bairn she's never be lighter. Nor in her hour to shine the brighter ; But she sail die, and turn to clay. And you shall wed another May." " Another May I'll never wed. Another May I'll never bring hame." But, sighing, said that weary wight " I wish my life were at an end ! " Yet gae ye to your mother again. That vile rank witch, o' vilest kind ! And say, your ladye has a steed. The like o' him's no in the land of Leed*. '' For he is silver shod before. And he is gowden shod behind ; At every tuft of that horse main. There's a golden chess f, and a bell to ring. This gudely gift sail be her ain. And let me be lighter o' my young bairn. "- * Land of Leed 'Ptvha])^ 'L.^iYvA. \ C/5fji Should probably be Jess, thu name of a hawk's be'.l. 30 -" Of her young bairn she's ne'er be lighter. Nor in her hour to shine the brighter ; But she sail die, and turn to clay. And ye sail wed another May." " Another May I'll never wed. Another May I'll ne'er hiing hame." But, sighing, said that weary wight " I wish my life were at an end 1 " Yet gae ye to your mither again. That vile rank witch, o' rankest kind ! And say, your ladye has a girdle. It is a*^ red gowd to the middle ; *' And aye, at ilka siller hem Hangs fifty siller bells and ten ; This gudely gift sail be her ain. And let me be lighter o' my young bairn." " Of her young bairn she's ne'er be lighter. Nor in your hour to shine the brighter ; For she sail die, and turn to clay. And thou sail wed another May." 31 " Another May I'll never wed. Another May I'll never bring hame.' But, sighing, said that weary wight- " 1 wish my days were at an end !"- Then out and spake the Billy-blind* (He spak ay in a gude time :) " Yet gae ye to the market place. And there do buy a loaf of wacef; Do shape it bairn and bairnly like. And in it twa glassen e'en you'll put ; " And bid her your boy's christening to, Then notice weel what she shall do ; And do ye stand a little away. To notice weel what she may saye. {^A stanza seems to be wantirig. Willie is supposed to follow the advice of the spirit. His mother speaks.] * Billy Blind A familiar genius, or propitious spirit, somewhat similar to the Brownie. He is mentioned repeatedly in Mrs Brown's ballads, but I have not met with him anywhere else. The word is indeed used in Sir David Lindsay's plays, but apparently in a different sense. " Priests sail leid you like ane Billy Blinde." Pinkerton'i Scotish Poetns, 179a, Vol. II. p. 232. 32 " O wha has loosed the nine witch knots. That were amang that ladye's locks ? And wha's ta'en out the kaims o' care. That were amang that ladye's hair ? *' And wha has ta'en downe that bush o' woodbine, That hung between her hour and mine ? And wha has kill'd the master kid. That ran beneath that ladye's bed ? And wha has loosed her left foot shee. And let that ladye lighter be ! !" Syne, Willy's loosed the nine witch knots. That were amang that ladye's locks ; And Willy's ta'en out the kaims o' care. That were into that ladye's hair ; And he's ta'en down the bush o' woodbine. Hung atween her hour and the witch carline ; And he has kill'd the master kid, That ran beneath that ladye's bed ; And he has loosed her left foot shee. And latten that ladye lighter be ; And now he has gotten a bonny son, And meikle grace be him upon. 33 CLERK SAUNDERS. NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. This romantic ballad is taken from Mr Herd's MS. rvith se- veral corrections from a shorter and more imperfect copy in the same volume^ and one or two conjectural emendations in the arrangement of the stanzas. The resemblance of the conclusion to the ballad beginning " There came a ghost to Margaret's door," will strike every reader. The tale is uncommonly wild and beautiful, and^ apparently very an- cient. The custom of the passing bell is still kept up in many villages of Scotland. The sexton goes through the town, ringing a small bell, and announcing the death of the departed, and the time of the funeral. Clerk Saunders and May Margaret Walked ower yon garden green ; And sad and heavy was the love That fell thir twa between. Vol. II. C '' A bed, a bed," Clerk Saunders said, " A bed for you and me." " F3'e na, fye na," said May Margaret, " Till anes we married be. " For in may come my seven bauld brothers, Wi' torches burning bright ; They'll say " We hae but ae sister. And behold she's wi' a knight !" " Then take the sword frae my scabbajrd. And slowly lift the pin ; And you may swear, and safe your aith. Ye never let Clerk Saunders in. " And take a napkin in your hand. And tie up baith your bonny een ; And you may swear, and safe your aith. Ye saw me na since late vestreen." It was about the midnight hour, When they asleep were laid ; When in and came her seven brothers, Wi' torches burning red. 55 When in and came her seven brothers, Wi' torches shining bright ; They said " We hae but ae sister. And behold her lying with a knight !" Then out and spake the first o' them, " I bear the sword shall gar him die." And out and spake the second o' them, " His father has nae mair than he !" And out and spake the third o' them, " I WQt that they are lovers dear." And out and spake the fourth o' them, " They hae been in love this mony a year."- Then out and spake the fifth o' them, " It were great sin true love to twain." And out and spake the sixth o' them, " It were shame to slay a sleeping man !" Then up and gat the seventh o' them. And never a word spake he ; But he has striped * his bright brown brand Out thro' Clerk Saunders' fair bodye. * Striped Thruit. C 2 36 Clerk Saunders he started, and Margaret she turned Into his arms as asleep she lay ; And sad and silent was the night That was atweenthir twae. And they lay still and sleeped sound. Until the day began to daw ; And kindly to him she did say, " It is time, true love, you were awa'." But he lay still, and sleeped sound. Albeit the sun began to sheen ; She looked atween her and the wa'. And dull and drowsie were his een. Then in and came her father dear. Said " Let a' your mourning be : I'll carry the dead corpse to the clay. And I'll come back and comfort thee." '^ Comfort weel your seven sons ; For comforted will I never be : I ween 'twas neither knave nor lown Was in the bower last night wi' me." S7 The clinking bell gaed thro' the town. To carry the dead corse to the clay ; And Clerk Saunders stood at May Margaret's window, I wot^ an hour before the day. " Are ye sleeping, Margaret ?" he says, " Or are ye waking presentlie ? Gie me my faith and troth again, I wot, true love, I gied to thee."- - " Your faith and troth ye sail never get. Nor our true love sail never twin. Until ye come within my bower. And kiss me cheik and chin." " My mouth it is full cold, Margaret, It has the smell, now, of the ground : And, if I kiss thy comely mouth. Thy days of life will not be lang. " O cocks are crowing a merry mid night, I wot the wild fowls are boding day ; Give me my faith and troth again. And let me fare me on my way." C 3 r-rx* V 38 ^' Thy faith and troth thou sail na get. And our true love sail never twin, Untill ye tell what comes of women, I wot, who die in strong traivelling* ?" " Their beds are made in the heavens high, Down at the foot of our good Lord's knee, Weel set about wi' gillyflowers : I wot sweet company for to see. " O cocks are crowing a merry mid night, I wot the wild fowl are boding day ; The psalms of heaven will soon be sung. And I ere now will be missed away." Then she has ta'en a chrystal wand. And she has stroken her troth thereon ; She has given it him out at the shot window, Wi' mony a sad sigh, and heavy groan. " I thank ye, Marg'ret; I thank ye, Marg'ret; And aye 1 thank ye lieartiHe ; Gin ever the dead come for the quick. Be sure, Marg'ret, I'll come for thee." * rrtfjV///g; Child birth. 39 It's hosen and shoon, and govvh alone. She climbed the wall and followed him, Untill she came to the green forest; And there she lost the sight o' him, " Is there ony room at your head, Saunders, Is there ony room at your feet ? Or ony room at your side, Saunders, Where fain, fain, I wad sleep." " There's nae room at my head, Marg'ret, There's nae room at my feet ; My bed it is full lowly now : Amang the hungry worms I sleep. '' Cauld mould is my covering now. But and my winding sheet; The dew it falls nae sooner down. Than m}' resting place is weet." C 4 40 NOTES CLERK SAUNDERS. fVeel set about wi' gillyflowers. P. 38. Verse 2. From whatever source the popular ideas of heaven be derived, the mention of gillyflowers is not uncommon. Thus in the Dead Men's Song The fields about this city faire Were all with roses set ; Gillyflowers, and carnations ^ire. Which canker could not fret- Rit son's j4ncient Songs, p. agg. The description given in the legend of Sir Owain, of the terrestrial paradise, at which the blessed arrive after passing through purgatory, omits gillyflowers, though it mentions many others. As the passage is curious, and the legend has never been published, many persons may not be displeased to see it extracted. Fair were her erbers with flowres. Rose and lili divers coulours, Primrol and paruink ; Mint, feuerfoy, and eglenterre Colombin, and mo ther were Than ani man mai bithenke. 41 It berth erbes of other maner. Than ani in erth groweth here. The that is lest of priis ; Euermore thai grene springeth, For winter no somer it no clingeth. And sweeter than licorice. 42 EARL RICHARD. iffEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. There are two ballads in Mr Herd's MS. upon the folio-wing story, in one of which the unfortunate knight is termed Young Huntin. A fragment, containing from the sixth to the tenth verse, has been repeatedly published. The best verses are here selected from both copies, and some trivial alterations have been adopted from tradition. " O lady, rock never your young son young, One hour langer for me ; For I have a sweetheart, in Garhoch Wells, I love far better than thee. The very sole o' that ladye's foot Than thy face is far mair white." -" But, nevertheless, now, Erl Richard, Ye will bide in my bower a' night ?" 43 She birled* him wi' the ale and wine. As they sat down to sup ; A hving man he laid him down. But I wot he ne'er rose up. Tlien up and spake the popinjay. That flew abbun her head ; *' Lady ! keep weel your grene cleiding Frae gude Erl Richard's bleid." " O better I'll keep my grene cleiding Frae gude Erl Richard's bleid. Than thou canst keep thy clattering toung. That trattles in thy head." She has call'd upon her bower maidens. She has call'd them ane by ane ; " There lies a deid man in my bowr : I wish that he were gane." They hae booted him, and spurred him. As he was wont to ride ; A hunting horn tied round his waist, A sharp sword by his side. And they hae had him to the wan water, For a' men call it Clyde. * ;>W Plied. 44 Then up and spake the popinjay, That sat upon the tree '' What hae ye done wi' Erl Richard ? Ye were his gaye ladye." " Come down, come down, my bonny bird. And sit upon my hand ; And thou sail hae a cage o' gowd. Where thou hast but the wand." " Awa ! awa ! ye ill woman : Nae cage o' gowd for me ; As ye hae dune to Erl Richard, Sae wad ye do to me." O it fell anes, upon a day. The king was boun' to ride ; And he has mist him, Erl Richard, Should hae ridden on his right side. The ladye turn'd her round about, Wi meikle mournfu' din " It fears me sair o' Clyde water. That he is drown'd therein," 45 " Gar douk, gar douk*/' the king he cried, " Gar douk for gold and fee ; O wha will douk for Eri Richard's sake. Or wha will douk for me ?" They douked in at ae weil-head-l*. And out aye at the other *' We can douk nae mair for Erl Richard, Altho' he were our brother." ft fell that, in that ladye's castle. The king was boun' to bed ; And up and spake the popinjay That flew abune his head. " Leave off your douking on the day. And douk upon the night ; And wherever that sackless J knight lies slain, The candles will burn bright." " O there's a bird, within this bower. That sings baith sad and sweet ; O there's a bird within your bower. Keeps me frae my night's sleep." * Di>*. Dive -|- Weil-head ^(}iA\ . % ^Jf^/^f .Guiltless. 46 They left the douking on the day. And douked upon the night; And, where that sackless knight lay slain. The candles burned bright. The deepest pot in a' the linn. They fand Erl Richard in ; A grene turf tyed across his breast. To keep that gude lord down. Then up and spake the king himsell. When he saw the deadly wound " O wha has slain my right hand man, That held my hawk and hound ?" Then up and spake the popinjay. Says *' What needs a' this din ? It was his hght lemman took his life. And hided him in the linn." She swore her by the grass sae grene, Sae did she by the corn. She had na' seen him, Erl Richard, Since Moninday at morn. 47 " Put na the wyte on me," she said ; *' It was my may Catherine." Then they hae cut baith fern and thorn^ To burn that maiden in. It wadna take upon her cheik. Nor yet upon her chin ; Nor yet upon her yellow hair. To cleanse the deadly sin. Out they hae ta'en her, may Catherine, And put her mistress in : The flame tuik fast upon her cheik, Tuik fast upon her chin, Tuik fast upon her fair bodye She burn'd like hoUins grene*. * if///w ^rff Green holly 48 NOTES EARL RICHARD. The candles will burn bright. P. 45, Verse 4. These are unquestionably the corpse-lights, which are sometimes seen to illuminate the spot where a dead body is concealed. The editor is in- formed that, some years ago, the corpse of a man, drowned in the Etrick, below Selkirk, was discovered by means of these candles. Such lighte are common in church-yards, and are probably of a phosphoric nature. But rustic superstition derives them from supernatural agency, and sup- poses, that, as soon as life has departed, a pale flame appears at the win- dow of the house in which the person had died, and glides towards the church-yard, tracing through every winding the route of the future flineral, and pausing where the bier is to rest. This and other opinions relating to the " tomb-^ires' livid gleam," seem to be of runic extraction. The deepest pot in a' the linn. P. 46, Verse 2. The deep holes, scooped in the rock by the eddies of a river, are cal- led fots ; the motion of the water having there some resemblance to a boiling cauldron. I,i Means the pool beneath a cataract. 49 THE LASS OF LOCHROYAN. NOW FIRST PUBLISHED IN A PERFECT STATE. Lochroyan, whence this ballad probably derives its name, lies in Galloway. The lover, who, if the story be real, may be supposed to have been detained by sickness, is represented, in the legend, as confined by fairy charms, in an enchanted castle situated in the sea. The ruins of ancient edifices are still visible on the summits of most of those small islands, or rather insulated rocks, which lie along the coast of Ayrshire and Galloway, as Aiisa and Big Scaur. This edition of the ballad obtained, is composed of verses selected from three MS. copies, and two from recitation. Two of the copies are in Herd's MS, the third in that of Mrs Brown of Falkland. Vol. II. D 50- A fragment of the original song, which is sometimes denominated Lord Gregory, or Ij>ve Gregory, was pub- lished in Mr Herd's collection, 1774, and, still more fully, in that of Laurie and Symington, 1792. The story has been celebrated both by Burns and Dr Wox- COTT. 51 I =c THE LASS OF LOCHROYAN. " O wha will shoe my bonny foot. And wha will glove my hand ? And wha will lace my middle jimp Wi' a lang lang linen band ? " O wlja will kame my yellow haii* VVith a new made silver kame ? And wha will father my young son, Till Lord Gregory come hame r" " Thy father will shoe thy bonny foot. Thy mother will glove thy hand. Thy sister will lace thy middle jimp. Till Lord Gregory come to land. D 2 52 " Thy brother will kame thy yellow hair With a new made silver kame ; And God will be thy bairn's father. Till Lord Gregory come hame." " But i will get a bonny boat. And I will sail the sea; And I will gang to Lord Gregory, Since he canna come hame to me." Syne she's gar'd build a bonny boat. To sail the salt salt sea : The sails were o' the light-green silk. The tows* o' taffety. She hadna sailed but twenty leagues. But twenty leagues and three. When she met jvi' a rank robber. And a' his companj^ " Now whether are ye the queen hersoli, (For so ye weel might be :) Or are ye the Lass of Lt>chroyan,' Seekin' Lord Gregory r" * r<>wj Rojies. 53 " O 1 am neither the queen," she said, " Nor sic I seem to be ; But I am the Lass of" Lochroyan, Seekin' Lord Gregory." '' O see na thou yon bonny bovver ? It's a' covered o'er wi' tin : When thou hast sailed it round about. Lord Gregory is within." And when she saw the stately tower. Shining sae clear and bright, Whilk stood aboon the jawing* wave. Built on a rock of height; Says '' Row the boat, niy mariners. And bring me to the land ; For yonder I see my love's castle. Close by the salt sea strand." She sailed it round, and sailed it round. And loud, loud, cried she "^ Now break, now break, ye fairy charms. And set my true love free !" * yaiuing'DwiKmg. 54 She's ta'en her young son in her arms. And to the door she's gane ; And long she knocked, and sair she ca'd. But answer got she nane. " O open the door. Lord Gregory ! O open, and let me in ! For the wind blaws through my yellow hair, And the rain drops o'er my chin," r" Awa, awa, ye ill woman ! Ye're no come here for good : Ye 're but some witch, or wil warlock. Or merraaid o' the flood !" " I am neither witch nor wil warlock, Nor mermaid o' the sea ; But 1 am Annie of Lochroyan ; O open the door to me!" *' Gin thou be Annie of Lochroyan, (As I trow thou binna she :) Now tell me some o' the love tokens That past between thee and me." 55 " O dinna ye mind. Lord Gregory, As we sat at the wine. We changed the rings frae our fingers r And I can shew thee thine. " O your's was gude and gude enough. But ay the best was mine ; For your's was o' the gude red gowd. But mine o' the diamond fine. ^' And has na thou mind, Lord Gregory, As we sat on the hill. Thou twin'd me o' my maidenheid. Right sair against my will ? " Now, open the door. Lord Gregory ; Open the door, I pray l For thy young son is in my arms. And will be dead ere day." *' If thou be the Lass of Lochroyan, (As 1 kenna thou be ;) Tell me some mair o' the love tokens Past between me and thee." D 4 56 Fair Annie turned her round about - " Weel ! since that it be sae. May never woman, that has borne a son, Hae a heart sae fu' o' wae. '^ Take down, take down, that mast o' gowd ; Set up a mast o' tree : It disna become a forsaken lady To sail sae royallie." When the cock had crawn, and the day did dawn. And the sun began to peep, Then up and raise him. Lord Gregory, And sair sair did he weep. " O I hae dreamed a dream, mother, I wish it may prove true ! That the bonny Lass of Lochroyan Was at the yate e'en now. *' O I hae dreamed a dream, mother, ^The thought o't gars me greet ! That fair Annie o' Lochroyan Lay cauld dead at my feet." 57 " Gin it be for Annie o' Lochroyan, That ye make a' this din. She stood a' last night at your door ; But I trow she wan na in." " O wae betide ye, ill woman ! An ill deid may ye die ! That wadna open the door to her. Nor yet wad waken me." O he's gane down to yon shore side. As fast as he could fare ; He saw fair Annie in the boat. But the wind it tossed her sair. " And hey Annie ! and how Annie ! O Annie, winna ye bide ?" But ay the mair he cried Annie, The braider grew the tide. " And hey Annie ! and how Annie ! Dear Annie, speak to me !" But ay the louder he cried Annie, The louder roared the sea. 58 The wind blew loud, the sea grew rough. And dashed the boat on shore ; Fair Annie floated through the faem. But the babie raise no more. Lord Gregory tore his yellow hair. And made a heavy moan ; Fair Annie's corpse lay at his feet. Her bonny young son was gone. O cherry cherry was her cheek. And gowden was her hair ; But clay cold were her rosy lips Nae spark o' life was there. And first he kissed her cherry cheek, And syne he kissed her chin ; And syne he kissed her rosy lips There was nae breath within. " O wae betide my cruel mother ! An ill death may she die ! She turned my true love frae my door, Wha came sae far to me. 59 " O wae betide my cruel motluer ! An ill death may she die ! She turned fair Annie frae my door^ Wha died for love o' me." 60 ROSE THE RED AND WHITE LILLY. NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. This lege7idan/ tale is giieti chiefly from Mrs Brown's MS, Accordingly, many of the rhymes arise from the northern mode of pronounciation ; as dec for do, and the like. Per- haps the ballad may have originally related to the history of the celebrated Robin Hood; as mention is made of Bar- nisdale, his favourite abode. O Rose the Red, and White Lilly, Their mother deir was dead ; And their father has married an ill woman. Wished them twa little guid. But she had twa as gallant sons. As ever brake man's bread ; And the tane o' them lo'ed her. White Lilly, And the tother Rose the Red. 61 O bigged ha' they a bigly hour. Fast by the roaring strand ; And there was mair mirth in the ladyes' hour. Nor in a' their father's land. But out and spake their step-mother. As she stude a Uttle forebye-^ " I hope to Uve and play the prank. Sail gar your loud sang lie." She's call'd upon her eldest son " Cum here, my son, to me : It fears me sair, my Bauld Arthur, That ye maun sail the sea." " Gin sae it maun be, my deir mother, Ye're bidding I maun dee ; But, be never waur to Rose the Red, Than ye hae been to me."' She's call'd upon her youngest son " Cum here, my son, to me ; It fears me sair, my Brown Robin, That ye maun sail the sea." 62 " Gin it fear ye sair, my mother deir, Ye're bidding I sail dee ; But, be never waur to White Lilly, Than ye hae been to me." **^ !No\v hand your tongues, ye foolish boys ! For small sail be their part : They ne'er again sail see your face. Gin their very hearts suld break." Sae Bauld Arthur's gane to our king's court, His hie chamberlain to be ; But Brown Robin, he has slain a knight. And to grene wood he did flee. When Rose the Red, and White Lilly, Saw their twa loves were gane, Sune did they drop the loud loud sang, Took up the still mourning. And out then spake her White Lilly " My sister, we'll be gane : Why suld we stay in Barnisdale, To mourn our hour within r" 63 O cutted hae they their grene cloathing, A little abune their knee ; And sae hae they their yellow hair, A little abune their bree. And left hae they that bonny hour. To cross the raging sea ; And they hae ta'en to a holy chapel. Was christen'd by Our Ladye. And they hae changed their twa names, Sae far frae ony toun ; And the tane o' them's hight Sweet Willie, And the tother's Rouge the Rounde. Between the twa a promise is. And they hae sworn it to fulfill ; Whenever the tane blew a bugle horn, The tother suld cum her till. Sweet Willy's gane to the king's court, Her true love for to see ; And Rouge the Rounde to gude grene wood,. Brown Robin's man to be. 64 O it fell anes, upon a time. They putted at the stane ; And seven foot ayont them a', Brown Robin's gar'd it gang. She lifted the heavy putting stane. And gave a sad " O hon! " Then out bespake him Brown Robin- '^ But that's a woman's moan !"- " O kent ye by my rosy lips. Or by my yellow hair ; Or kent ye by my milk-white breast. Ye never yet saw bare ?" " I kent na by your rosy lips. Nor by your yellow hair ; But cum to your hour whaever likes. They'll find a ladye there." " O gin ye come my bour within. Thro' fraud, deceit, or guile, Wi' tliis same brand, that's in my hand, [ vow I will thee kill." / 65 -" Yet durst I cum into your hour. And ask nae leave," quo' he ; And, wi' this same brand, that's in my hand. Wave danger back on thee." About the dead hour o' the night. The ladye's hour was broken ; And, about the first hour o' the day, The fair knave bairn was gotten. When days were gane, and months were come. The lady was sad and wan ; And aye she cried for a hour woman. For to wait her upon. Then up and spake him. Brown Robin " And what needs this ?" quo' he ; " Or what can woman do for you. That canna be done bv me ?" " 'Twas never my mother's fashion," she said, '' Nor shall it e'er be mine. That belted knights should e'er remain While ladyes dree'd their pain. Vol. II, E 66 '' But, gin ye take that bugle horn, And wind a blast sae shrill, I hae a brother in yonder court. Will cum me quickly till." "^ O gin ye hae a brother on earth. That ye lo'e mair than me. Ye may blavv the horn yoursell," he says, *' For a blast I winna gie." She's ta'en the bugle in her hand. And blawn baith loud and shrill; Sweet William started at the sound. And cam her quickly till. O up and starts him, Brown Robin, And swore by Our Ladye :" No man shall cum into this hour. But first maun fight wi' me." O they hae fought the wood within, Till the sun was going down ; And drops o' blood, frae Rose the Red, Came pouring to the ground. 67 She leant her back against an aik. Said " Robin, let me be ; For it is a ladye, bred and born, That has fought this day wi' thee." O seven foot he started back. Cried '' Alas and woe is me ! For I wished never, in all my life, A woman's bluid to see : " And that all for the knightly vow I swore to Our Ladye ; But mair for the sake o' ae fair maid. Whose name was White Lilly." Then out and spake her. Rouge the Rounde, And leugh right heartilie *' She has been wi' you this year and mair. Though ye wistna it was she." Now word has gane thro' a' the land. Before a month was gane. That a forester's page, in gude grene wood. Had borne a bonny son. E 2 68 The marvel gaed to the king's court. And to the king himsell " Now, by my fay," the king did say, " The Hke was never heard tell !" Then out and spake him, Bauld Arthur, And laugh 'd right loud and hie " I trow some may has plaid the lown *, And fled her ain countrie." '' Bring me my steid !" the king can say; My bow and arrows keen ; And I'll gae hunt in yonder wood. And see what's to be seen." " Gin it please your grace," quo' Bauld Arthur, " My liege, I'll gang you wi' ; And see gin I can meet a bonny page. That's stray'd awa frae me." And they hae chaced in gude grene wood. The buck but and the rae. Till they drew near Brown Robin's hour. About the close o' day. Lown Roguf. 69 Then out and spake the king himsell, Says " Arthur, look and see Gin yon be not your favourite page. That leans against yon tree." Arthur's ta'en a bugle horn. And blawn a blast sae shrill ; Sweet Willy started to her feet. And ran him quickly till. " O wanted ye your meat, Willie ? Or wanted you your fee ? Or gat ye e'er an angry word. That ye ran aw a frae me r" " I wanted nought, my master dear ; To me ye aye was good : 1 cam to see my ae brother. That wons in this grene wood." Then out bespake the king'again- " My boy, now tell to me. Who dwells into j'on bigly hour. Beneath yon grene aik tree r" E 3 70 " O pardon me," said Sweet Willy ; " My liege I dare na tell ; And gang na near yon outlaw's hour, For feir they suld you kill." " O baud your tongue, my bonny boy, For I winna be said nay; But I will gang j'on bour within. Betide me weal or wae." They have lighted frae their milk-white steids. And saftly entered in ; And there they saw her. White Lilly, Nursing her bonny young son. " Now, by the mass," the king he said, " This is a comely sight ; I trow, instead of a forester's man. This is a ladye bright !" O out and spake her,* Rose the Red, And fell low on her knee : " O pardon us, my gracious liege, ,1 ' And our story I'll tell thee. 71 " Our father is a wealthy lord, Lives into Barnisdale ; But we had a wicked step-mother, That wrought us meikle bale. " Yet had she twa as fu' fair sons. As e'er the sun did see ; And the tane o' them lo'ed my sister deir. And the tother said he lo'ed me." Then out and cried him, Bauld Arthur, As by the king he stood, " Now, by the faith of my body. This suld be Rose the Red !" The king has sent for robes b' grene. And girdles o' shining gold ; And sae sune have the ladyes busked themselves, Sae glorious to behold. Then in and caiiiie him. Brown Robin, Frae hunting o' the king's deer ; But when he saw the King himsell. He started back for fear. \\ 4 72 The king has ta'en Robin by the hand^ And bade him nothing dread. But quit for aye the gude grene wood. And cum to the court wi' speed. The king has ta'en White Lilly's son. And set him on his knee ; Says " Gin ye live to wield a brand. My bowman thou sail be." They have ta'en them to the holy chapelle. And there had fair wedding; And when they cam to the king's court. For joy the bells did ring. 73 FAUSE FOODRAGE. NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. This ballad has been popular in many parts of Scot- land. It is chiefly given from Mrs Brown of Faulk- land's MS. The expression " The boy stared wild like a gray goss hawk." Verse 31. strongly resembles that in Hnrdyknute, " Norse e'en like gray goss hawk stared wild." a circumstance which led the editor to make the strictest enquiry into the authenticity of the song. But every doubt was removed by the evidence of a lady of high rank, who not only recollected the ballad, as having amused her infancy, but could repeat many of the ver- ses ; particularly those beautiful stanzas, from the 20th to the 25th. The editor is therefore compelled to be- lieve, that the author of Hardijknutc copied the old bal- lad if the coincidence be not altocethcr accidental. 74 FAUSE FOODRAGE. King Easter has courted her for her lands. King Wester for her fee ; King Honor for her comely face. And for her fair bodie. They had not been four months married. As I have heard them tell, Untill the nobles of the land Against them did rebel. And they cast kevils* them amang, And kevils them between ; And they cast kevils them amang, Wha suld gae kill the king. * Kevih Lots. 75 O some said yea, and some said nay, Their words did not agree ; Till up and got him Fause Foodrage, And swore it suld be he. When bells were rung, and mass was sung, And a' men bound to bed. King Honor and his gaye ladye In a hie chamber were laid. Then up and raise him, Fause Foodrage, When a' were fast asleep ; And slew the porter in his lodge. That watch and ward did keep. O four and twenty silver keys Hang hie upon a pin ; And aye, as ae door he did unlock. He has fastened it him behind. Then up and raise him, King Honor, Says '^ What means a' this din t Or what's the matter, Fause Foodrage, Or wha has loot you in ?"-^ 76 '^ O ye my errand weel shall learn^ Before that I depart." Then drew a knife, baith lang and sharj). And pierced him to the heart . Then up and got the Queen hersell. And fell low down on her knee : '' O spare my life ! now, Fause Foodrage, For I never injured thee. " O spare my life ! now, Fause Foodrage, Untill I lighter be ; And see gin it be lad or lass, King Honor has left me wi'." - " O gin it be a lass," he says, " Weel nursed it shall be ; But gin it be a lad bairn. He sail be hanged hie. '' I wirnia spare for his tender age, Nor yet for his hie, hie, kin ; But soon as o'er he born is, He shall mount the gallows pin."- 77 O four and twenty valiant knights Were set the Queen to guard ; And four stood aye at her hour door. To keep both watch and ward. But when the time drew near an end. That she suld hghter be. She cast about to find a wile To set her body free. O she has birled these merry young men With the ale but and the wine, Untill they were as deadly drunk As any wild wood swine. " O narrow, narrow, is this window. And big, big, am I grown !" Yet, thro' the might of Our Ladye, Out at it she has gone. She wandered up, she wandered down. She wandered out and in ; And at last, into the very swine's stythe^ The Queen brought forth a son. 78 Then they cast kevils them araang^ Which sould gae seek the Queen; And the kevil fell upon Wise William, And he sent his wife for him. O when she saw Wise William's wife. The Queen fell on her knee ; *' Win up, win up, Madame !" she says; " What needs this courtesie r" " O out o' this I winna rise. Till a boon ye grant to me ; To change your lass for this lad bairn. King Honor left me wi'. " And ye maun learn my gay goss hawk Right weel to breast a steed ; And I sail learn your turtle dow * As weel to write and read. " And ye maun learn my gay goss hawk To wield baith bow and brand ; And I sail learn your turtle dow To lay gowdf wi' her hand. Dow Dove. \ Lay gowdTo embroider in gold. 79 At kirk and market when we meet. We'll dare make nae avowe. But " Dame, how does my gay goss hawk ?"- " Madame, how does my dow ?" When days were gane, and years came on. Wise William he thought lang ; And he has ta'en King Honor's son A hunting for to gang. It sae fell out, at this hunting. Upon a simmer's day. That they came by a fair castell. Stood on a sunny brae. " O dinna ye see that bonny castell, Wi' halls and towers sae fair ? Gin ilka man had back his ain, Of it ye suld be heir." " How I suld be heir of that castell In sooth I canna see ; For it belangs to Fause Foodrage, And he is na kin to me." so " O gin ye suld kill him^ Fause Foodrage, You would do but what was right ; For I wot he kill'd your father dear. Or ever ye saw the light. " And gin ye suld kill him, Fause Foodrage, There is no man durst you blame ; For he keeps your mother a prisoner. And she darna take ye hame." The boy stared wild like a gray goss hawk : Says " What may a' this mean ?" " My boy, ye are King Honor's son ; And your mother's our lawful Queen." " O gin I be King Honor's son. By Our Ladye I swear. This night I will that traitor slay. And relieve my mother dear !" He has set his bent bow to his breast. And leaped the castell wa' ; And soon has he seized on Fause Foodrage. Wha loud for help 'gan ca'. 81 " O haud your tongue^ now, Fause Foodrage ! Frae me ye shanna flee." Syne, pierc'd him thro' the fause, fause, heart. And set his mother free. And he has rewarded Wise WiUiam Wi' the best half of his land ; And sae has he the turtle dow, Wi* the truth o' his right hand. Vol.. II 82 NOTES PAUSE FOODRAGE. -: King Easter has courted her for her lands King Wester for her fee King Honor, SfC. P. 74, Verse 1. King Easter and King Wester were probably the petty princes of Nor- thumberland and Westmoreland. In the Complaynt of Scot- land, an ancient romance is mentioned under the title, " Haw tie King of Estmureland married the King's daughter of Westmoreland^'''' which may possibly be the original of the beautiful legend of King Est- piere, in the Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, Vol. I. p. 62, 4th edit. From this it may be conjectured, with some degree of plausibility, that the independent kingdoms of the east and west coast were, at an early period, thus denominated, according to the Saxon mode of naming dis- tricts, from their relative positions, as Essex, Wessex, Sussex. But the geography of the metrical romances sets all system at defiance ; and, in some of these, as Clariodus and Meliades, Estmureland undoubtedly signi- fies the land of the Easterlings, or the Flemish provinces at which vessels arrived in three days from England, and to which they are represented as exporting ^NOo\.-^Fide Notes to the tale of Kempion. And they hue cast kevih them amang. P, 74. Verse 3. Kevils'LoXs. Both words originally meant only a portion, or share, of any thing. Legss Bvrgorum, cap. 59. de lot, cut, or kav'il. 83 Statuta Gild.t, cap. 20. Nullus emat lanam, Gfc, nhi fuerit con- f rater G'tldce, &c. Neque lot neque cavil habeat cum aliquo confratre nos- tra. In both these laws, lot and cawl signify a share in trade. Dame, hov: does my guy goss hawk. P, 79- Verse 1. This metaphorical language was customary among the northern na- tions. In 925, king Adelstein sent an embassy to Har ald Har- FAG.1R, king of Norway, the chief of which presented that prince with an elegant sword, ornamented with precious stones. As it was presented by the point, the Norwegian chief, in receiving it, unwarily laid hold of the hilt. The English ambassador dcclarefi, in the name of his master, that he accepted the act as a deed of homage ; for, touching the hilt of a warrior's sword was regarded as an acknowledgment of subjection. The Norwegian prince, resolving to circumvent his rival by a si- milar artifice, suppressed his resentment, and sent next summer an em- bassy to Adelstein, the chief of which presented Haco, the son of Ha R A LD, to the English prince j and, placing him on his knees, made the following declaration : " Haraldus, Normannorum rex, amice te salutat i albamque hanc avem, bent imtitutam mittit, utque melius de- inceps erudias, postulat." The king received young Haco on his knees ; which the Norwegian ambassador immediately accepted, in the name of his master, as a declaration of inferiority, according to the proverb, " Is minor semper hahetur qui alterius filium educ at, ''"'< Yd NTOPPIDAkiVes- TiGiA Danor. Vol. II. p. 67. F 2 84 K E M P I O N. NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. The tale of Kempion seems, from the names of the per- sonages, and the nature of the adventure, to have been an old metrical romance, degraded into a ballad, by the lapse of time, and the corruption of reciters. The change in the structure of the last verses, from the com- mon ballad stanza to that which is proper to the metrical romance, adds force to this conjecture. Such transformations, as the song narrates, are com- mon in the annals of chivalry. In the 25th and 26th cantos of the second book of the Orlando Innamurnto, the paladin, Brandimarte, after surmounting many obsta- cles, penetrates into the recesses of an enchanted palace. Here he finds a fair damsel, seated upon a tomb, who an- nounces to him, that, in order to atchieve her deliverance, he must raise the lid of the sepulchre, and kiss whatever being should issue forth. The knight, having pledged his faith, proceeds to open the tomb, out of which a mon- 85 s'trous snake raises itself, with a tremendous hiss. Bran- dimarte, with much reluctance, fulfills the bizarre condi- tions of the adventure; and the monster is instantly changed into a beautiful fairy, who loads her deliverer with benefits. For the satisfaction of those who may wish to compare the tale of the Italian poet with that of Kem- pion, a part of the original of Boiardo is given below. There is a ballad, somewhat resembling Kempion, cal- led the Laidley Worm of Bamborougk, which is very popu- ' lar upon the borders ; but, having been often published, it was thought unnecessary to insert it in this collection. There are numerous traditions, upon the borders, Poich' ebbe il verso Brandimarte letto. La lapida pesante in aria alzava: Ecco fuor una serpe insin' al petto. La qual, forte stridendo, zufolava, Di spaventoso, e terribil' aspetto, A prendo il muso gran denti mostrava, De' quali il cavalier non si fidandO) Si trasse a dietro, et mise mano al brando. Ma ([uella Donna gridava, " non fate" Col viso smorto, e grido tremebondo, *' Non far, che ci farai pericolare, " E cadrem' tutti quanti nel profondo : " A te convien quella serpe baciare, " O far pensler di non esser' al Mondo, " Accostar la tua bocca con la sua, <* O perduta tener la vita tua." F 3 86 concerning huge and destructive snakes, although the common adder, and bHnd worm, are the only reptiles of that genus now known to haunt our wilds. Whether it be possible, that, at an early period, before the country was drained and cleared of wood, serpents of a larger size may have existed, is a question which the editor leaves to the naturalist. But, not to mention the fabulous dragon slain in Northumberland by Sir Bevis, the fame still survives of many a preux chevatier, supposed to have distinguished himself by similar at- chievements. The manor of Sockburn, in the bishoprick of Durham, anciently the seat of the family of Conyers, or Cog- *' Come ? non vedi, che i denti degrigna, Che pajon fatti a posta a spiccar' nasi, E fammi un certo viso de matrigna". Disse il Guerrier, " ch'io me spavento quasi : " Anzi f invita con faccia benigna ;" Disse la Donna, " e moiti altri riinasi Per vllta sono a questa sepoltura : Or la t' accosta, e non aver paura." II cavalier s' accosta, ma di passo, Che troppo grato quel baciar non gli era, Verso la serpe chinandosi basso, Gli parvo tanto orrenda, e tanto fera, Che venne in viso freddo, com' un sasso ; E disse " si fortuna vuol' ch'io pera, Fia tanto un altra volta, quanto addeso Ma cagion dar non me ne voglio io stesso." 87 NIERS, is held of the bishop by the service of presenting, or shewing to him, upon his first entrance into his diocese, an antique sword, or faulchion. The origin of this pe- culiar service is thus stated in Beckwith's edition of Blount's Antient Tenures, p. 200. -Hif* Sir Edward Blackett (the proprietor of the ma- " nor) now represents the person of Sir John Conyers, " who, as tradition says, in the fields of Sockburne, slew, ' with this faulchion, a monstrous creature, a dragon, a " worm, or flying serpent, that devoured men, women, " and children. The then owner of Sockburne, as a re- " ward for his bravery, gave him the manor, with its ap- " purtenances, to hold for ever, on condition that he " Fuss' io certo d'andare in paradiso. Come son' certo, chinandomi un poco, Che quella bestia mi s'avventa al viso, E mi piglia nel naso, o altro loco : Egli e proprio cosi, com' io m'avviso, Ch' altri ch'io stato e colto a questo gioco E che costei mi da questo conforto Per vindicarsi di colui, ch'ho morto*." Cosi direndo, a rinculare attende, Deliberato piu non s'accostare : La Donna si dispera, e Io reprende, " Ah codardo," dicea, " che credi fare ? Perche tauta vilta, I'alma t'offende, Che ti fara alia fin mal capitare ? Infinita paura e poca fede, La salute gli mostro, e non mi crede." Un ca-valicr occiso per Brandimarte nd entrare del palazzo tncantati. Y A- 88 " meets the Lord Bishop of Durham, with this faulchion, " on his first entrance into his diocese, after his election " to that see. " And, in confirmation of this tradition, there is paint- " ed, in a window of Sockburne church, the faulchion we " j ust now spoke of : and it is also cut in marble, upon the " tomb of the great ancestor of the Conyers', together " with a dog, and the monstrous worm, or serpent, lying " at his feet, of his own killing, of which the history of " the family gives the above account. " When the Bishop first comes into his diocese, he " crosses the river Tees, either at the ford at Nesham, Punto il Guerrier de questi agre parole, Torna de nuovo ver la sepoltura, Tinsegli in rose il color de viola. In vergogna mutata la paura : Pur stando ancor' fra due, vuole, e non vuole, Un pansier lo spaventa, un I'assicura Al fin tra I'aniiTioso, e'l disperato, A lei s'accosta, ed halle un bacio dato. Un ghiaccio proprio gli parse a toccare La bocca, che paiea |)rima di foco : La serpe se commincia a tramutare E diventa donzella a poco a poco : Febosilla costei si fa ciiiamare, Un fata, che fece quel bel loco, E quel giardino, e quella sepoltura, Ove gran tempo e stato in pena dura, tec. 89 " or Croft bridge, where the counties of York and Dur- " ham divide; at one of which places, Sir Edward " Blackett, either in person, or by his representative, " if the Bishop comes by Nesham, rides into the middle " of the river Tees, with the ancient faulchion drawn in " his hand, or upon the middle of Croft bridge ; and then " presents the faulchion to the Bishop, addressing him in " the ancient form of words ; upon which the Bishop " takes the faulchion into his hand, looks at it, and I'e- " turns it back again, wishing the lord of the manor his *' health, and the enjoyment of his estate." The faul- chion, above alluded to, has upon its hilt the arms of England, in the reign of King Johk, and an eagle, sup- posed to be the ensign of Morcar, Earl of Northum- berland. Gougk's Camden's Britannia^ Vol. III. p. 114. Mr GouGH, with great appearance of probabi- lity, conjectures the dragon, engraved on the tomb, to be an emblematical, or heraldric ornament. The property, called Pollard's Lands, near Bishop Auckland, is held by a similar tenure ; and we are inform- ed, in the work just quoted, that " Dr Johnson of New- " castle met the present Bishop, Dr Egerton, in Sep- " tember, 177 1> at his first arrival there, and presented " a faulchion upon his knee, and addressed him in the " old form of words, saying, " Ml/ Lord, in behalf of myself , as well as of the several 90 " other tenants of Pollard's La7ids, I do humbly present " your Lordship with this faulchion, at your Jirst cotning ". here, wherewith, as the tradition goeth, Pollard slew of *' old a great and venomous serpent, which did much harm " to man and beast : and, by the performance of this ser- '' vice, these lands are holden." Ancient Tenures, p. 201. Above the south entrance of the ancient parish church of Linton, in Roxburghshire, is a rude piece of sculpture, representing a knight, with a falcon on his arm, encoun- tering with his lance, in full career, a sort of monster, which the common people call a worm, or snake. Tra- dition bears, that this animal inhabited a den, or hollow, at some distance from the church, whence it was wont to issue forth, and ravage the country, or, by the fascination of its eyes and breath, draw its prey into its jaws. Large rewards were in vain offered for the destruction of this monster, which had grown to so huge a bulk, that it used to twist itself, in spiral folds, round a green hillock of considerable height. When sleeping in this place, with its mouth open, popular credulity affirms, that it was slain by the laird of Lariston, a man brave even to madness, who, coming upon the snake at full gallop, thrust down its throat a burning peat (a piece of turf dried for fuel), fixed to the point of his lance. The aromatic quality of the peat is said to have preserved the champion from the effects of the monster's poisonous breath ; and, in dying, 91 " the serpent contracted his folds with so much violence, that their spiral impression is still discernible round the hillock where it lay. The noble family of Somerville are said to be descended from this adventurous knight, in memory of whose atchievement they bear a dragon as their crest. The sculpture itself gives no countenance to this fine story ; for the animal, whom the knight appears to be in the act of slaying, has no resemblance to a serpent, but rather to a wolf, or boar, with which the neigh- bouring Cheviot mountains must in early times have a- bounded*. An inscription, which might have thrown light upon this exploit, is now totally defaced. The vul- gar, adapting it to their own tradition, tell us that it ran thus : The xcode laird of Lariestoun Slew the toode worm of Wormistoune, And wan all Linton paroschine. * An altar, dedicated to Sylvan Mars, was found in a glen in Weardale, in the Bishoprick of Durham. From the following votive inscription, it ap- pears to have been erected by C. T. V. Mi ci an us, a Roman General, up- on taking an immense boar, which none of his predecessors could destroy. " Sil-vano invicto sacrum. C. Tetius Veturius MicianusPreef. Alae Sebosinae ch aprum exlmice formce captum, quern multi antecessores ejus pradari non potuerunt, Votum soi-vens lubenter posuit. Lamb's Nots on Battle of Flodden, 1774, p. 67. 92 It is most probable, that the animal, destroyed by the ancestor of Lord Somerville, was one of those beasts of prey by which Caledonia was formerly infested ; but which, now, Razed out of all her woods, as trophies hung. Grin high emblazon'd on her children's shields. The ballad of Kempion is given chiefly from Mrs Brown's MS. with corrections from a recited fragment. 93 K E M P I O N. " Cum heir, cum heir, ye freely feed. And lay your head low on my knee ; The heaviest weird I will you read. That ever was read to gaye ladye. " O meikle dolour sail ye dree. And aye the salt seas o'er ye'se swim ; And far raair dolour sail ye dree On Estmere crags, when ye them climb. " 1 weird ye to a fiery beast. And relieved sail ye never be. Till Kempion, the kingis son. Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss thee."- 94 O meikle dolour did she dree. And aye the salt seas o'er she swam ; And far mair dolour did she dree On Estmere crags, e'er she them clamb. And aye she cried for Kempion, Gin he would but cum to her hand ; Now word has gane to Kempion, That sicken a beast was in his land. '^ Now, by my sooth," said Kempion, " This fiery beast I'll gang and see." " And, by my sooth," said Segramour, " My ae brother, I'll gang wi' thee." Then bigged hae they a bonny boat. And they hae set her to the sea ; But a mile before they reached the shore. Around them she gar'd the red fire flee. *r-^^ O Segramour, keep the boat afloat. And let her na the land o'er near ; For this wicked beast will sure gae mad. And set fire to a' the land and mair." 95 Syne has lie bent an arblast bow. And aim'd an arrow at her head ; And swore if she didna quit the land, Wi' that same shaft to shoot her dead. " O out o' my stythe I winna rise. And it is not for the awe o' thee. Till Kempion, the kingis son. Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss me." He has louted him o'er the dizzy crag. And gien the monster kisses ane : Awa she gaed and again she cam. The fieryest beast that ever was seen. " O out o' my stythe I winna rise, And not for a' thy bow nor thee. Till Kempion, the kingis son. Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss me." He's louted him o'er the Estmere crags. And he has gien her kisses twa : Awa she gaed and again she cam. The fieryest beast that ever you saw. 96 " O out of" my den I winna rise. Nor flee it for the feir o' thee ; Till Kempion, that courteous knight. Cum to the crag, and thrice kiss me." He's louted him o'er the lofty craig, And he has gien her kisses three : Awa she gaed and again she cam. The loveliest ladye e'er could be ! ^' And by my sooth," says Kempion, " My ain true love, (for this is she :) They surely had a heart o' stane. Could put thee to such misery. " O was it warwolf in the wood. Or was it mermaid in the sea ? Or was it man, or vile woman. My ain true love, that mishaped thee ?"- '' It was na warwolf in the wood. Nor was it mermaid in the sea ; But it was my wicked step-mother. And wae and weary may she be !" 97 <^ O a heavier weird* shall light her on. Than ever fell on vile woman ; Her hair shall grow rough, and her teeth grow lang, And on her four feet shall she gang. " None shall take pity her upon ; In Wormeswood she aye shall won ; And relieved shall she never be. Till St Mungof come over the sea." And sighing said that weary wight, " I doubt that day I'll never see !" * Pf^erd 'From the German auxiliary verb werden, to become . ^ f & Mmgo. -Saint Kentigeru. Vol. II. G 98 NOTES K E M P I O N. On Estmere crags, when ye them dim'. P. 93, Verse 2. If by Estmere crags we are to understand the rocky cliffs of Northuni- berland, in opposition to Westmoreland, we may bring our scene of ac- tion near Bamborough, and thereby almost identify the tale of Kemfion with that of the Laidley Worm of Spindleston, to which it bears so strong a resemblance. / weird ye to ajierye beast. P. 93, Verse 3. Our ideas of dragons and serpents are probably derived from the Scan- dinavians. The legends of Regnar Lodbrog, and of the huge snake in the Edda, by whose folds the world is encircled, are well known. Griffins and dragons were fabled, by the Danes, as watching over and defending hoards of gold. BartJwUn. de cam. cont. Mortis, p. 490. Saxo Gram- maticus, lib. z. The Edda also mentions one Fa fner, who, trans- formed into a serpent, brooded over his hidden treasures. From these authorities, and that of Herodotus, our Milton draws his simile As when a Gryphon, through the wilderness. With winged course, o'er hill or moory dale. Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth Had from his wakeful custody purloin'd The guarded gold. o 99 was it warwolfin the wood. P. g6, Verse 4. Warwolf, or Lycanthropus, signifies a magician, possessing tiie power of transforming himself into a wolf, for the purpose of ravage and de- vastation. It is probable the word was first used symbolically, to distin- guish those, wlio, by means of intoxicating lierbs, could work their passions into a frantic state, and throw themselves upon their enemies with the fu- ry and temerity of ravenous wolves. Such were tlie noted Benerkar of tlie Scandinavians, who, in their fits of voluntary frenzy, were wont to perform the most astonishing exploits of strength, and to perpetrate the most horri- ble excesses, although, in their natural state, they neither were capable of greater crimes nor exertions than ordinary men. This quality they as- cribed to Odin. " Odinus efficercvaluit, utjtostes ipslus inter bellanditm " cceci '"vel surdi vel attonltt fierent, armaque illorum imtar haculorum ob- " tusa eaent. Sui vera miJites sine loricis incedehant , ac instar canum vel " luporum furebant, scuta sua arrodentes : et rohmti ut ursi -vel tauri, ad- " 'versarios trucidabant : if sis iiero neque ignis neque fcrritm nocuit. Ea " qualitas 'vacatur furor Berserkiciis."-^Snorr(i Sturlcson, quoted by Bartholin, de causis contemptoe mortis, p. 344. For a fuller account of these frantic champions see the Her-vorar Saga published by Suhmj also the Christnl Saga, and most of the ancient Norwegian histories and romances. Camden explains the tales of the Irish, concerning men transformed into wolves, upon nearly the same principle. Gouglt's edition of Camden's Britannia, Vol.. III. p. 520. But, in process of time, the transformation into a wolf was believed to be real, and to aifect the body as well as the /nind. The learned com- mentators upon the art of sorcery, differ v/idely concerning the manner in which the arch fiend effects this change upon the persons of his vas- sals ; whether, by surrounding their body with a sort of pellice of con- densed air, having the form of an wolf; or whether by some delusion, affecting the eyes of the spectators ; or finally, by an actual corporeal trans- formation. The curious reader may consult Delrii Disquisitionc> Magictse, p. 188 ; and (if he pleases) Evvichius de natura Sagaritm. FiNCELIus lib. 2, de mirac.REMiGlus l:b. 2, de Damonolat. Bin SF ELD. de confession, maleficarum. Not to niiMition Spondanu?, BoDiNUS, Peucerus, Phii.ippus Camcrarius, Condron- CHus, Peter Thyr.us, Bartholomeus Spineus, Sir Geo. Ma c k e n z 1 e, and King James [. with the sapient Monsieur Ou f l :s of Bayle. Warivolf'ii dciivcd from tiir Sa-con TCf/-, a niiin. The c.li- (i 'J 100 tor presumes it is only since the extirpation of wolves, that our British sorceresses have adopted the disguise of hares, cats, and such more fami- liar animals. A wildstorj- of a warwolf, or rather a war bear, is told in Torfceus' ' history of Hrolfe Kraka. As the original is a scarce book, and little known in this country, some readers may be interested by a short ana- lysis of the tale. Hringo, King of Upland, had an only son, called Biorno, the most beautiful and most gallant of the Norwegian youth. At an advan- ced period of life, the King became enamoured of a ' witch lady,'''' whom he chose for his second wife. A mutual and tender affection had, from infancy, subsisted betwixt Biorno, and Bera, the lovely daughter of an ancient warrior. But the new Queen cast upon her step-son an eye of incestuous passion ; to gratify which, she prevailed upon her husband, when he set out upon one of those piratical expeditions which formed the summer campaign of a Scandinavian monarch, to leave the prince at home. In the absence of Hringo, she communicated to Biorno her impure affection, and was repulsed with disdain and violence. The rage of the weird step-mother was boundless. " Hence to the woods !" she exclaimed, striking the prince with a glove of wolf-skin ; " Hence to the woods ! subsist only on thy father's herds ; live pursuing, and die pursued." From this time the |)rince Biorno was no more seen, and the herdsmen of the King's cattle soon observed that astonishing de- vastation was nightly made among their flocks, by a black bear, of im- mense size, and unusual ferocity. Every attempt to snare or destroy this animal was found vain ; and much was the unavailing regret for the absence of Ciorno, whose delight had been in extirpating beasts of prey. Bera, the faithful mistress of the young prince, added her tears to the sorrow of the people. As she was indulging her melancholy, a- part from society, she was alarmed by the approach of the monstrous bear, which was the dread of the whole country. Unable to escape, she waited its approach in expectation of instant death ; when, to her astonish- ment, the animal fawned upon her, rolled himself at her feet, and re- garded her with eyes, in which, spite of the horrible transformation, she still recognized the glances of her lost lover. Bera had the courage to follow the bear to his cavern, where, during certain hours, the sjjell per- mitted him to resume his human shape. Her love overcame her repug- 101 nance at so strange a mode of life, and she continued to inhabit the ca- vern of BioR NO," enjoying his society during the periods of his tVeedou-! from enchantment. One day, looking sadly upon his wife, " Bera," said the prince, " the end of my life approaches. My flesh will soon * serve for the repast of my father and his courtiers. But, do thou be- * ware least either the threats or entreaties of my diabolical step-mo- * ther induce thee to partake of the horiid banquet. So shall thou safe- * ly bring forth three sons, who shall be the wonder of the North." The spell now operated, and the unfortunate prince sallied from his ca- vern to prowl among the herds. Bera followed hrm, weeping, and at a distance. The clamour of the chace was soon heard. It was the old King, who, returned from his piratical excursion, had' collected a strong force to destroy the devouring animal which ravaged his counti-y. The poor bear defended himself gallantly, slaying many dogs, and some huntsmen. At length, wearied out, he sought protection at the feet of his father. But his supplicating gestures were in vain, and the eyes of paternal affection proved more dull than those of love. Biorno died by the lance of his father, and his flesh was prepared for the royal banquet. Bera was recognized, and hurried into the Queen's presence. The sor- ceress, as BioRNo had predicted, endeavoured to prevail upon Bera to eat of what was then esteemed a uegal dainty. Entreaties and threats being in vain, force was, by the Queen's command, employed for this purpose, and Bera was compelled to swallow one morsel of the bear's flesh. A second was put into her mouth, but she had an opportunity of putting it aside. She was then dismissed to her father's house. Here, in process of time, she was delivered of three sons, two of whom were affected variously, in person and disposition, by the share their mother had been comjielled to take in the feast of the King. The eldest, from his middle downwards, resembled an Elk, whence ht derived the name of Elgfrod. He proved a man of uncommon strength, but ot sa- vage manners, and adopted the profession of a robber. Thorer, the second son of Bera, was handsome and well shaped, saving that he had the foot of a dog ; from wliich he obtained the appellation of HouNDSFooT. But Bodvar, the third son, was a model of per- fection in mind and body. He revenged upon the necromantic Queen the death of his father, and bec.ime the most celebrated champion ox'his age. Hhtoria Hrolfi Krukei, Haffr.ia:, 17 15. 102 LORD THOMAS and FAIR ANNIE. NOW FIgST PUBLISHED IN A PERFFXT STATE. This ballad is now for the first time published in a per- fect state. A fragment, comprehending the 2d, 4th, 5th, and 6th verses, as also the 17th, has appeared in several collections. The present copy is chiefly taken from the recitation of ar* old woman residing near Kirkhill, in West Lothian ; the same from whom were obtained the varia- tions in the tale of Tamlane, and the fragment of the Wife of Usher's Well, which is the next in order. The tale is much the same with the Breton romance, called Lay Le Frain, or the Song of the Ash. Indeed, the editor is convinced that the farther our researches are ex- tended, the more we shall see ground to believe, that the romantic ballads of later times are, for the most part, a- bridgements of the ancient metrical romances, narrated 103 in a smoother stanza, and more modern language. A copy of the ancient romance, alluded to, is preserved in the invaluable collection (W. 4. 1.) of the advocate's li- brary, and begins thus : We redeth oft and findeth y write And this clerkes wele it wite Layes that ben in harping Ben y found of ferli thing Sum beth of wer and sum of wo Sum of joye and mirthe also And sum of trecherie and of gile Of old aventours that fel while And sum of bourdes and ribaudy And many ther beth of faery Of al thinges that men seth Maist o' love forsoth yai beth In Breteyne bi hold time This layes were wrought so seithe this rime When Kinges might our y here Of ani mervailcs that ther were; They token a harp in glee and game And maked a lay and gaf it name Now of this aventours that weren y falle Y can tel sum ac nought alle Ac herkeneth Lordinges sothe to sain I chil you tel Lay le Frain Bifel a cas in Briteyne Whereof was made Lay le Frain In Ingliche for to tellen y wis Of ane asche forsothe it is On ane ensammple fair with alle That sum time was bi falle Sec. G 4 104 LORD THOMAS and FAIR ANNIE. " It's narrow, narrow, make your bed. And learn to lie your lane. For I'm ga'n o'er the sea, Fair Annie, A braw bride to bring hame ; Wi' her I will get gowd and gear, Wi' you I ne'er got nane. *' But wha will bake my bridal bread. Or brew my bridal ale ; And wha will welcome my brisk bride. That I bring o'er the dale?" " It's 1 will bake your bridal bread. And brew your bridal ale ; And I will welcome your brisk bride That you bring o'er the dale." 105 " But she that welcomes my brisk brid^ Maun gang Uke maiden fair; She maun lace on her robe sae jimp. And braid her yellow hair." '' But how can I gang maiden like. When maiden I am nane ? Have I not borne seven sons to thee. And am with child again r" She's ta'en her young son in her arms. Another in her hand ; And she's up to the highest tower. To see him come to land. " Come up, come up, my eldest son, And look o'er yon sea strand. And see your father's new come bride, Before she come to land." " Come down, come down, my motiier dear I Come frae the castle wa' ; I fear, if langer ye stand theie, " Ye'll let voursell down fa'." - 106 And she gaed down, and farther down. Her love's ship for to see ; And the top-mast and the main-mast Shone hke the silver free. And she's gane down, and farther down. The bride's ship to behold ; And the topmast and the mainmast They shone just like the gold. She's ta'en her seven sons in her hand, I wot she didna fail; She met Lord Thomas and his bride. As they cam o'er the dale. " You're welcome to your house. Lord Thonjas, You're welcome to your land ; You're welcome with your fair ladye. That you lead by the hand. !' You're welcome to your ha's, ladye. You're welcome to your bowers ; You're welcome to your hume, ladye^ For a' that's here is your's." 107 " I thank thee, Annie, I thank thee, Annie, Sae dearly as I thank thee ; You're the Ukest to my sitser, Annie, That ever I did see. " There came a knight out o'er the sea. And steal'd my sister away ; The shame scoup* in his company, And land where'er he gae !" She hang ae napkin at the door. Another in the ha' ; And a' to wipe the trickling tears^ Sae fast as they did fa'. And aye she served the lang tables. With white bread and with wine ; And aye she drank the wan water. To had her colour fine f- And aye she served the lang tables. With white bread and with brown. And aye she turned her round about, Sae fast the tears fall down. * Scoup 'Co, or rather fly. f To keep her from changing countenance. 108 And he's ta'en down the silk napkin. Hung on a silver pin ; And aye he wipes the tear trickling A' down her cheik and chin. And aye he turned him round about. And smil'd amang his men : Says " Like ye best the old ladye. Or her that's new come hame ?" When bells were rung, and mass was sung, And a' men bound to bed. Lord Thomas and his new come bride. To their chamber they were gaed. Annie made her bed a little forebye. To hear what they might say ; " And ever alas !" fair Annie cried, " That I should see this day. '* Gin my seven sons were seven young rats Running on the castle wa'. And I were a grey cat my sell, I soon would worry them a'. 109 " Gin my seven sons were seven young hares, Running o'er yon lilly lee. And I were a grew hound mysell. Soon worried they a' should be." And wae and sad fair Annie sat. And drearie was her sang ; And ever as she sobb'd and grat, ^* Wae to the man that did the wrang." " My gown is on," said the new come bride, " My shoes are on my feet. And I will to fair Annie's chamber. And see what gars her greet. *' What ails ye, what ails ye, fair Annie, That ye make sic a moan ? Has your wine barrels cast the girds, Or is your white bread gone ? '" O wha was't was your father, Annie, Or wha was't was your mother ? And had ye any sister, Annie, Or had ye any brother r" no '^ The Earl of Wemyss was my father. The Countess of Wemyss my mother ; And a' the folk about the house. To me were sister and brother." "If the Earl of Wemyss was your father, I wot sae was he mine. And it shall not be for lack o' gowd. That ye your love sail tine. '^ For I have seven ships o' mine ain, A' loaded to the brim. And I will gie them a' to thee, Wi' four to thine eldest son ; But thanks to a' the powers in heaven, That I gae maiden hame." Ill THE WIFE OF USHER's WELL. A FRAGMENT. NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. There lived a wife at Usher's Well^ And a wealthy wife was she ; She had three stout and stalwart sons^ And sent them o'er the sea. They hadna been a week from her^ A week but barely ane. Whan word came to the carline wife^ That lier three sons were ganc. 112 They hadna been a week from her A week but barely three. Whan word came to the carlin wife, That her sons she'd never see. " I wish the wind may never cease. Nor fishes in the flood. Till my three sons come hame to me, In earthly flesh and blood." It fell about the Martinmass, When nights are lang and mirk. The carlin wife's three sons came hame. And their hats were o' the birk. It neither grew in syke nor ditch. Nor yet in ony sheugh : But at the gates o' paradise. That birk grew fair eneugh. 113 " Blow up the fire, my maidens ; Bring water from the well: For a' my house shall feast this night. Since my three sons are well." And she has made to them a bed, She's made it large and wide ; And she's ta'en her mantle her about. Sat down at the bed-side. Up then crew the red red cock. And up and crew the gray ; The eldest to the youngest said, ^' 'Tis time we were away." The cock he hadna craw'd but once. And clapp'd his wings at a'. When the youngest to the eldest said, -^^' Brother, we must awa. Vol. II. H 114 '' The cock doth craw, the day doth daw. The channerin'* worm doth chide ; Gin we be mist out o' our place, A sair pain we maun bide. " Fare ye weel, my mother dear ! Fareweel to barn and byre ! And fare ye weel, the bonny lass. That kindles ray mother's fire." * CAanneritt'. '-^Fretting. 115 NOTES THE WIFE OF USHER's WELL. / wish the wind may never cease, Sj-c. P. 112. V. 2. The sense of this verse is obscure, owing, probably, to corruption by reciters. It would appear, that the mother had sinned in the same de- gree with the celebrated Lenore. And their hats were d the birk. P. 112. V. 3. The notion, that the souls of the blessed wear garlands, seems to be of Jewish origin. At least, in the Maase-book, there is a Rabinical tra- dition, to the following effect : <' It fell out that a Jew, whose name was Ponim, an ancient man, whose business was altogether about the dead, coming to the door of the school, saw one standing there, who had a garland upon his head. Then was Rabbi Ponim afrai;!, imagining it was a sjjirit. Whereupon, he, whom the Rabbi saw, called out to him, saying, *' Be not afraid, " but pass forward : Dost thou not know me .'"' Thcnsaici Rabbi Ponim, * Art thou not he whom I buried yesterday ?" And he was answered, " Yea, I am he." Upon which Rabbi Ponim said, " Why comest H 2 116 ** thou hither ? how fereth it witli thee in the other world ?" And the apparition made answer, " Itgoeth well with me, and I am in high es- " teem in Paradise." Then said the Rabbi, *' thou wert but looked " upon in the world as an insignificant Jew. What good work didst " thou do, that thou art thus esteemed ?" The apparition answered, " I *' will tell thee : The reason of the esteem I am in is, that 1 rose every " morning early, and with fervency uttered my prayer, and offered the ** grace from the bottom of my heart : For which reason I now pro- " nounce grace in Paradise, and am well respected. If thou doubtest " whether I am the person, I will shew thee a token that shall convince " thee of it. Yesterday, when thou didst clothe me in my funeral at- " tire, thou didst tear my sleeve." Then asked Rabbi Ponim, ** What " is the meaning of that garland ?" The apparition answered, "I wear ** it, to the end the wind of the world may not have power over me, for ** it consists of excellent herbs of Paradise." Then did Rabbi Ponim mend the sleeve of the deceased : for the deceased had said, that if it was not mended, he should be ashamed to be seen amongst others, whose ap- parel was whole. And then the apparition vanished. Wherefore, let every one utter his prayer with fervency, for then it shall go well with him in the other world. And let care be taken that no rent, nor tearing, beleft in the apparel in which the deceased are interred." ^ew/i^ Traditions, abridged from Buxtorf, London tTii- Vol. II. P. 19. 117 COSPATRICK. NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. A copy of this ballad, materially different from that which follows, appeared in Scotish Songs, 2 vols. Edinbui'gh, 1792, under the title of Lord Bothwell. Some stanzas have been transferred from thence to the present copy, which is taken down froin the recitation of a lady, nearly related to the editor. Some readings have been also a- doptedfrom a third copy, in Mrs Brown's MS. under the title of Child Brenton. Cospatrick (Comes Patrici- us) was the designation of the Earl of Dunbar in the days of Wallace and Bruce. Cospatrick has sent o'er the faeni, Cospatrick brought his ladye hame ; And fourscore ships have come her wi'. The ladye by the grenewood tree. H 3 118 There were twal' and twal' wi' baken bread. And twal' and twal' wi' gowd sae reid. And twal' and twal' wi' bouted flour, And twal' and twal' wi' the paramour. Sweet Willy was a widow's son. And at her stirrup he did run ; And she was clad in the finest pall. But aye she let the tears down fall. " O is your saddle set awrye ? Or rides your steed for you owre high ? Or are ye mourning, in your tide. That you suld be Cospatrick's bride r" " I am not mourning, at this tide. That I suld be Cospatrick's bride ; But I am sorrowing, in my mood. That I suld leave my mother good. " But, gentle boy, come tell to me. What is the custom of thy country e ?" " The custom thereof, my dame," he says, " Will ill a gentle ladye please. 119 " Seven king's daughters has our lord wedded. And seven king's daughters has our lord bedded ; But he's cutted their breasts frae their breast bane. And sent them mourning hame again. " Yet, gin you're sure that you're a maid. Ye may gae safely to his bed ; But gif o' that ye be na sure. Then hire some damsell o' your hour." The ladye's call'd her bour maiden. That waiting was into her train ; " Five thousand merks I will gie thee. To sleep this night with my lord for me." When bells were rung, and mass was sayne, And a' men unto bed were gane, Cospatrick and the bonny maid. Into ae chamber they were laid. " Now, speak to me, blankets, and speak to me, bed ; And speak, thou sheet, inchanted web; And speak up, my bonny brown sword, thiit winna lie. Is this a true maiden that hes by me r" H 4 120 ' " It is not a maid that you hae wedded, But it is a maid that you hae bedded ; It is a hel maiden that hes by thee. But not the maiden that it should be." O wrathfuUy he left the bed. And wrathfully his claiths on did : And he has ia'en him thro' the ha'. And on his mother he did ca'. ^' 1 am the most unhappy man. That ever was in christen land ! I courted a maiden meik and mild. And I hae gotten naething but a woman wi' child.' " stay my son into this ha'. And sport ye wi' your merrymen a' ; And I will to the secret hour. To see how it fares wi' your paramour. The carline she was stark and sture. She aff the hinges dang the dure ; " O is your bairn to laird or loun. Or is it to your father's groom ?" 121 '^ O ! hear me, mother, on my knee. Till my sad story I tell thee : O we were sisters, sisters seven. We were the fairest under heaven. *' It fell on a summer's afternoon. When a' our toilsome task was done. We cast the kavils us amang. To see which suld to the grene wood gang. '^ O hon ! alas, for I was youngest. And aye my wierd it was the hardest ; The kavil it on me did fa', Whilk was the cause of a' my woe. " For to the grene wood I maun gae. To pu' the red rose and the slae ; To pu' the red rose and the thyme. To deck my mother's hour and mine. " I hadna pu'd a flower but ane. When by there came a gallant hende, Wi' high coll'd hose and laigh coU'd shoon. And he seem'd to be sum king's son. 122 " And be I maid, or be I nae, He kept me there till the close o' day ; And be I maid, or be [ nane. He kept me there till the day was done. " He gae me a lock o' his yellow hair. And bade me keep it ever mair; He gae me a carknet* o' bonny beads, And bade me keep it against my needs. " He gae to me a gay gold ring. And bade me keep it abune a' thing." ^' What did ye wi' the tokens rare. That ye gat frae that gallant there ?" " O bring that coffer unto me. And a' the tokens ye sail see." '' Now stay, daughter, your hour within. While I gae parley wi' my son." Oh she has ta'en her thro' the ha*. And on her son began to ca' ; " What did you wi' the bonny beads, I bade ye keep against your needs ? * Carknet -A necklace. Thus : " She threw away her rings and carknet clean. "Harrison's Trans- lation of Orlando Fvrioso.- Notes on book ^jtA. 123 '* What did you wi' the gay gowd ring, I bade ye keep abune a' thing ?" *' I gae them a' to a ladye gay, I met in grene wood on a day. " But I wad gie a' my halls and tours, I had that ladye within my hours ; But I wad gie my very life, I had that ladye to my wife." " Now keep, my son, your ha's and tours ; Ye have that bright burd in your hours : And keep, my son, your very life^ Ye have that ladye to your wife." Now or a month was cum and gane. The ladye bore a bonny son ; And 'twas weel written on his breast bane, Cospatrick is my father's name : " O rowe my ladye in satin and silk. And wash my son in the morning milk." 124 PRINCE ROBERT. NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. FROM THE RECITATION OF A tADY NEARLY RELATED TO THE EDITOR. Prince Robert has wedded a gay ladye. He has wedded her with a ring ; Prince Robert has wedded a gay ladye. But he daur na bring her hame. " Your blessing, your blessing, my mother dear ; Your blessing now grant to me !" " Instead of a blessing ye sail have my curse. And you'll get nae blessing frae me." 125 She has called upon her waiting maid^ To fill a glass of wine ; She has called upon her fause steward. To put rank poison in. She has put it to her roudes* lip. And to her roudes chin ; She has put it to her fause fause mouth. But the never a drop gaed in. He has put it to his bonny mouth. And to his bonny chin. He's put it to his cherry lip. And sae fast the rank poison ran in. " O ye hae poisoned your ae son, mother. Your ae son and your heir ; O ye hae poisoned your ae son, mother, And sons you'll never hae mair." *^ O where will I get a little boy, That will win hose and shoon ; To run sae fast to Darlinton, And bid fair Eleanor come." * 2?o^ .-Haggard. 126 Then up and spake a little boy. That wad win hose and shoon : " O I'll away to Darlinton, And bid fair Eleanor come." O he has run to Darlinton, And tirled at the pin ; And wha was sae ready as Eleanor's sell. To let the bonny boy in. " Your gude-mother has made ye a rare dinour. She's made it baith gude and fine ; Your gude-mother has made ye a gay dinour. And ye maun cum till her and dine." It's twenty lang miles to Sillertoun town. The langest that ever were gane ; But the steed it was wight, and the ladye was light. And she cam linkin'* in. t But when she came to Sillertoun town, And into Sillertoun ha'. The torches were burning, the ladies were mourning, And they were weeping a'. * ZrfiV. Riding Briskly. 127 " Oh I where is now my wedded lord. And where now can he be ? Oh ! where is now my wedded lord. For him I canna see." " Your wedded lord is dead/' she says, " And just gane to be laid in the clay ; Your wedded lord is dead," she says, " And just gane to be buried the day. " Ye'se get nane o' his gowd, ye'se get nane o' his gear, Ye'se get nae thing frae me ; Ye'se na get an inch o' his gude broad land, Tho' your heart suld burst in three." " I want nane of his gowd, I want nane of his gear, I want nae land frae thee; But I'll hae the ring that's on his finger. For them he did promise to me." " Ye'se na get the ring that's on his finger, Ye'se na get them frae me ; Ye'se na get the ring that's on his finger, An' your heart suld burst in three." 128 She's turned her back unto the wa'. And her face unto a rock ; And there, before the mother's face. Her very heart it broke. The tane was buried in Marie's kirk. The tother in Marie's quair ; And out o' the tane there sprang a birk. And out o' the tother a brier. And thae twa met, and thae twa plat. The birk but and the brier ; And by that ye may very weel ken They were twa lovers dear*. * The last two verses are common to many ballads, and are probably derived from some old metrical romance, since we find the idea occur in the conclusion of the voluminous history of Sir Tristram. " Ores veit- il que de la tumbe de Tristan yssoit une belle ronce verte et fewlleue, qui alloit par la chapelle, et descendoit le bout de la ronce sur la tumbt d''Ysseult et entroit dedans.'''' This marvellous plant was three times cut down j but, continues Rust'icien de Puise, " Le lendemain estoit aussi belle comme elk auoit cy-devant ete, et ce miracle etoit sur Tristan et sur Tsseult a tout jamais advenir."-mm 129 KING HENRIE. THE ANCIENT COPY. This ballad is edited from the MS. of Mrs Browk, corrected by a recited fragment. A modernized copy has been published, under the title of Courteous King Jamie. Tales of Wonder, Vol, 2. p. 451. The legend will remind the reader of tke Marriage of Sir Gawain, in the Reliques of Ancient Poetry, and of the Wife of Bath's Tale, in Father Chaucer. But the original, as appears from the following quotation from ToRFCEUS, is to be found in an Icelandic Saga. " Hellgius, Rex Danice, 7ncerore ob atnissam conjugem tex- " atus, solus agehat et subducens se hominum commercio, " segregem domum, omnis famulitii impatiens, incolcbat. " Accidit autem, vt node concubia, laynentabilis cujusdcim Vol. II. I 130 " ante fores ejulantis sonus auribus ejus obreperef. Exper- " gef actus igitur, recluso ostio, informe quoddam muUeris " simulacrum, hahitu corporis fadum, veste squalore obsita, " pallore, made frigorisque tyrannide prope modum peremp- '' turn, deprehendit ; quod precibus obsecratus, ut qui Jam " miserorum osrumnas ex propria calamitate pcnsare didi- " cisset, in domum intromisit ; ipse ledum petit. At mu- " lier, ne hac quidem benignitate contenta, thori consor- " tium obnix^Jiagitabat, addens id tanti referre, ut nisi im- " petraret, omnino sibi moriendum esset. Quod, ea lege, " tie ipsum attingeret, concessum est. Idea nee complexu " earn dignatus Rex, avertit sese. Cum autem prima lace "forte oculosultro citraque converter et, eximice forma vir- *' ginem lecto receptam animadvertit ; quce statim ipsi " placere ccepit : causam igitur tarn repentinct mutationis " curiosius indaganti, respondit Virgo, se unam e subterra- ** neorum hominum genere diris novercalibus devotam, tarn " tetra et execrabili specie, quali primo comparuit, damna- " tam, quoad thori cujusdam principis socio feret, multos " reges hac de re solUcitasse. Jam act is pro prastito be- " neficio gratiis, discessum maturans, a rege forma; ejus il- " lecebris capto comprimitur. Deinde petit, si prolem ex " hoc congressu progigni contigerit, sequente hyeme, eodem " anni tempore, ante fores positam in xdes reciperet, seque " ejus pafrem prqfiteri non gravaretur, secus non Icve in- '' fortvnium insecuturum prwdixit : A quo pracepto cum " rex postea exorbitasset nee pnt fcrihusjacenfein itfanfem " pro sno agnoscere xoluisset, ad eu?n iteruin, sed cornigafa 131 *' fronte^ accessit, obque violatamjidem acrius ohjurgatum, " ab imminente periculo, prastiti olim beneficii gratia, exem- " pturam pollicebatur, it a tamen ut tot a ultionis rabies in *'-Jilium ejus efusa graves aliquando levitatis illius pacnas " exigeret. Ex hac tarn dissimilium naturarum commix- " tione Skulda, versuti et versatilis animi mulier, nata " fuisse memoratur ; qua utramque naturam participans " prodigiosorum operum effectrix perhibetur. Hrolfii Kra- kii, Hist. p. 49. Hafn. J 715. 1 2 132 KING HENRIE. THE ANCIENT COPY. Let never man a wooing wend. That lacketh thingis thrie : A rowth o' gold, an open heart. And fu' o' courtesey. And this was seen o' King Henrie, For he lay burd alane ; And tie has ta'en him to a haunted hunt's-ha'. Was seven miles frae a toun. He's chaced the dun deer thro' the wood. And the roe doun by the den^ Till the fattest buck, in a' the herd, King Henrie he has slain. 133 He's ta'en him to his hunting ha'. For to make burly cheir; When loud the wind was heard to sounds And an earthquake rocked the floor. And darkness cover'd a' the hall;, Where they sat at their meat : The gray dogs, youling, left their food. And crept to Henrie's feet. And louder houled the rising wind, And burst the fast'ned door ; And in there came a griesly ghost. Stood stamping on the floor. Her head touched the roof-tree of the house ; Her middle ye well mot span : Each frighted huntsman fled the ha'. And left the king alone. Her teeth were a' like tether stakes, Her nose like club or mell ; And I ken nae thing she appeared to be. But the fiend that wons in hell. I 3 134 -" Sum meat, sum meat, ye King Henrie ; Sum meat ye gie to me." -" And what meat's in this house, ladye. That ye're nae wellcum tee* ?" -" O ye's gae kill your berry brown steed. And serve him up to me." O when he killed his berry brown steed. Wow gin his heart was sair ! She eat him a' up, skin and bane, Left naething but hide and hair. " Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henrie ; Mair meat ye gie to me." " And what meat's i' this house, ladye. That ye're na wellcum tee r" " O ye do slay your gude gray houndes, And bring them a' to me." O when he slew his gude gray houndes, Wow but his heart was sair ! She's ate them a' up, ane by ane. Left naething but hide and hair. * Tee for to is the Buchanshire and Gallovidian pronounciatioi! 135 -" Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henrie ; Mair meat ye gie to me." -' And what meat's i' this house, ladye. That 1 hae left to gie ?" -" O ye do fell your gay goss-hawks. And bring them a' to me." O when he felled his gay goss-hawks. Wow but his heart was sair ! She's eat them a' up, bane by bane. Left naething but feathers bare. -" Sum drink, sum drink, ye king Henrie; Sum drink ye gie to me." -'' And what drink's in this house, ladye. That ye're nae wellcum tee ?" -" O ye sew up your horse's hide. And bring in a drink to me." O he has sew'd up the bluidy hide^ And put in a pipe of wine ; She drank it up a' at ae draught. Left nae a drap therein. I 4 136 -" A bed, a bed, ye king Henrie ; A bed ye mak to me." -'' And what's the bed i' this house, ladye. That ye're nae wellcum tee ? -" O ye maun pu' the green heatlier. And mak a bed to me." O pu'ed has he the heather green. And made to her a bed ; And up he has ta'en his gay mantle. And o'er it he has spread. " Now swear, now swear, ye king Henrie, To take me for your bride." " O God forbid," king Henrie said, " That e'er the hke betide ! That e'er the fiend that wons in helJ, Should streak down by my side." 137 When day was come, and night was gane. And the sun shone through the ha'. The fairest ladye, that e'er was seen. Lay atween him and the wa'. " O weel is me !" king Henrie said ; " How long will this last wi' me ?" And out and spak that ladye fair " E'en till the day ye die. " For I was witched to a ghastly shape. All by my stepdame's skill. Till I should meet wi' a courteous knight, Wad gie me a' my will." 138 ANNAN WATER. NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. The following verses are the original words of the time of " Allan Water," by which name the song is mentioned in Ramsay's Tea Table Miscellany. The ballad is given from tradition ; and it is said that a bridge, over the An- nan, was built in consequence of the melancholy catastro- phe which it narrates. By the Gatehope Slack, is per- haps meant the Gate-slack, a pass in Annandale. The Annan, and the Frith of Solway, into which it falls, are the frequent scenes of tragical accidents. The editor trusts he will be pardoned for inserting the following aw- fully impressive account of such an event, contained in a letter from Dr Currie, of Liverpool, by whose correspon- dence, while in the course of preparing these volumes for the press, he has been alike honoured and instructed. Af- ter stating that he had some recollection of the ballad which 139 follows, the biographer of Burns proceeds thus: " I once in my early days heard, (for it was night, and I could not see) a traveller drowning ; not in the Annan itself, but in the Frith of Solway, close by the mouth of that river. The influx of the tide had unhorsed him, in the night, as he was passing the sands from Cumberland. The west wind blew a tempest, and, according to the common expression, brought in the water three foot a- breast. The traveller got upon a standing net a little way from the shore. There he lashed himself to the post, shouting for half an hour for assistance till the tide rose over his head ! In the darkness of night, and amid the pauses of the hurricane, his voice, heard at in- tervals, was exquisitely mournful. No one could go to his assistance no one knew where he was the sound seemed to proceed from the spirit of the waters. But morning rose the tide had ebbed and the poor traveller was found lashed to the pole of the net, and bleaching in the Avind." 140 ANNAN WATER. " Annan water's wading deep^ And my love Annie's wondrous bonnie ; And I am laith she shuld weet her feetj Because I love her best of ony. *' Gar saddle me the bonny black ; Gar saddle sune, and make him ready : For 1 will down the Gatehope-slack, And all to see my bonny ladye." He has loupen on the bonny black. He stirr'd him wi' the spur right sairly j But,, or he wan the Gatehope-slack, I think the steed was wae and weary. 141 He has loupen on the bonnie gray. He rade the right gate and the ready ; I trow he would neither stint nor stay. For he was seeking his bonnie ladye. The gray was a mare, and a right good mare; But when she wan the Annan water. She could na hae ridden a furlong mair. Had a thousand merks been wadded* at her. The side was stey, and the bottom deep, Frae bank to brae the water pouring ; And the bonnie gray mare did sweat for fear, For she heard the water kelpy roaring. O he has pou'd afF his dapperpy* coat. The silver buttons glanced bonny ; The waistcoat bursted aff his breast, He was sae full of melancholy. He has ta'en the ford at that stream tail ; I wot he swam both strong and steady; But the stream was broad, and his strength difl iail, And he never saw his boniiy ladye. * fFadded. -^Wdscred. ^i/rre. Cap-a-pce ? 142 " O wae betide the frushf saugh wand ! And wae betide the bush of briar ! It brake into my true love's hand. When his strength did fail, and his Hmbs did tire. " And wae betide ye, Annan water ! This night that ye are a drumhe river ; For over thee I'll build a bridge. That ye never more true love may sever." \ Fri^. -Fresh. 143 THE CRUEL SISTER. This ballad differs essentially from that which has been published in various collections, under the title of Bi/i- norie. It is compiled from a copy in Mrs Buown's MS. intermixed with a beautiful fragment, of fourteen verses. transmitted to the editor by J. C. Walker, Esq. the in- genious historian of the Irish bards. Mr Walker, at the same time, favoured the editor with the following note : " I am indebted to my departed friend, Miss " Brookes, for the foregoing pathetic fragment. Her " account of it was as follows : This song was tran- " scribed, several years ago, from the memory of an old " woman, who had no recollection of the concluding " verses : probaldy the beginning may also be lost, as it 144 " seems to commence abruptly/' The first verse and bui'den of the fragment run thus : O sister, sister, reach thy hand ; Hey ho my Nanny, O ; And you shall be heir of all my land, While the swan swims bonny, O. The first part of this chorus seems to be corrupted from the common burden of Hey Nonny Nonny, alluded to in the song beginning " Sigh no more, ladye." The chorus retained in this edition is the most common and popular; but Mrs Brown's copy bears a yet different burden, beginning thus : There were twa sisters sat in a bour, Edinborough, Edinborough j There were twa sisters sat in a bour, Stirling for aye j There were twa sisters sat in a bour. There cam a knight to be their wooer, Bonny St Johnstoun stands upon Tay. 145 THE CRUEL SISTER. There were two sisters sat in a bour ; Binnorie, O Binnorie ; There came a knight to be their wooer ; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. He courted the eldest with glove and ring ; Binnorie, O Binnorie ; But he lo'ed the youngest aboon a' thing ; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. He courted the eldest with broach and knife ; Binnorie, O Binnorie ; But he lo'ed the youngest aboon his life ; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. Vol. II. K / 146 The eldest she was vexed sair ; Binnorie, O Binnorie ; And sore envied her sister fair ; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. The eldest said to the youngest ane, Binnorie, O Binnorie ; " Will ye go and see our father's ships come in ?' By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. She's tae'n her by the lilly hand, Binnorie, O Binnorie ; And led her down to the river strand ; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. The youngest stude upon a stane, Binnorie, O Binnorie ; The eldest came and pushed her in ; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. She took her by the middle sma', Binnorie, O Binnorie ; And dashed her bonnie back to the jaw. By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. 147 " O sister, sister, reach your hand, Binnorie, O Binnorie ; And ye shall be heir of half my land." By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. " O sister, I'll not reach my hand, Binnorie, O Binnorie; And I'll be heir of all your land : By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. " Shame fa' the hand that I should take, Binnorie, O Binnorie; It's twin'd me, and my world's make." By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. " O sister, reach me but your glove, Binnorie, O Binnorie ; And sweet William shall be your love." By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. '' Sink on, nor hope for hand or glove, Binnorie, O Binnorie; And sweet William shall better be my love.". By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. K2 148 " Your cherry cheeks and your yellow hair, Binnorie, O Binnorie ; Garr'd me gang maiden evermair." By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. Sometimes she sunk, and sometimes she swam, Binnorie, O Binnorie ; Untill she came to the miller's dam. By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. '' O father, father, draw your dam ! Binnorie, O Binnorie; There's either a mermaid or a milkwhite swan." By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. The miller hasted and drew his dam, Binnorie, O Binnorie ; And there he found a drowned woman. By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. You could not see her yellow hair, Binnorie, O Binnorie; For gowd and pearls that were sae rare. By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. 149 You could na see her middle sma', Binnorie, O Binnorie ; Her gowden girdle was sae bra' ; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. A famous harper passing by, Binnorie, O Binnorie ; The sweet pale face he chanced to spy ; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. And when he looked that ladye on, Binnorie, O Binnorie ; He sighed and made a heavy moan ; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. He made a harp of her breast bone, Binnorie, O Binnorie ; Whose sounds would melt a heart of stone ; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. The strings he framed of her yellow hair, Binnorie, O Binnorie ; Whose notes made sad the listening ear; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. K 3 150 He brought it to her father's hall ; Binnorie, O Binnorie ; And there was the court assembled all ; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. He laid this harp upon a stone, Binnorie, O Binnorie ; And straight it began to play alone ; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. " O yonder sits my father, the king, Binnorie, O Binnorie ; And yonder sits my mother, the queen ; By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. " And yonder stands my brother Hugh, Binnorie, O Binnorie ; And by him my William sweet and true." By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. But the last tune that the harp play'd then, Binnorie, O Binnorie ; Was " Woe to my sister, false Helen !'' By the bonny milldams of Binnorie. 151 LAMENT OF THE QUEEN'S MARIE. A FRAGMENT. NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. " In the very time of the General Assembly, theie comes " to public knowledge a haynous murther committed in " the court ; yea not far from the Queen's lap : for a " French woman that served in the Queen's chamber " had played the whore with the Queen's own apothc- " cary ; the woman conceived and bare a childe, whom, " with common consent, the father and mother murther- " ed ; yet were the cries of a new-borne childe hearde, " searche was made, the childe and the mother were both " apprehended, and so was the man and the woman con- " demned to be hanged in the publicke street of Ediu- K 4 ]52 " burgh. The punishment was suitable, because the " crime was hainous. But yet was not the court pur- " ged of whores and whoredoms, which was the fountaine *' of such enormities ; for it was well known that shame " hasted marriage betwixt John Sempill, called the *' dancer, and Mary Leringston, sirnamed the Lusty. " What bruit the Maries, and the rest of the dancers of ** the court had, the ballads of that age do witnesse, " which we for modesties sake omit ; but this was the " common complaint of all godly and wise men, that if " they thought such a court could long continue, and if " they looked for no better life to come, they would have " wished their sonnes and daughters rather to have been ** brought up with fiddlers and dancers, and to have been " exercised with flinging upon a floore, and in the rest ** that thereof followes, than to have been exercised in ** the company of the godly, and exercised in virtue, ** which in that court was hated, and filthenesse not on- " ly maintained but also rewarded ; witnesse the abbey ** of Abercorne, the barony of Auchverrauchtie, and di- " vers others pertaining to the patrimony of the crown, " given in heritage to skippers and dancers, and dalliers " with dames. This was the beginning of the regiment of *' Mary, Queen of Scots, and these were the fruits that " she brought forth of France.Lorc^ / look on our miseries ! " and deliver us from the wicked?iesseofthis corrupt court !" Knox's Hist, of the Reformation, p. 3/3-4. us Such is the melancholy subject of the following aftec- ting fragment, as handed down to us by the stern Apostle of Presbytery. The ballad is much longer than here printed, and perhaps may be yet entirely recovered. The following verses are taken down from recitation. 154 LAMENT OF THE QUEEN'S MARIE. " O ye mariners, mariners, mariners, Tiiat sail upon the sea. Let not my father nor mother to wit, The death that I maun die !" When she cam to the Netherbow port. She laughed loud laughters three ; But when she cam to the gallows foot. The tear blinded her e'e. " Yestreen the queen had four Maries, The night she'll hae but three : There was Marie Seton, and Marie Beatoun, And Marie Carmichael, and me." 155 NOTES LAMENT OF THE QUEEN'S MARIE. We hear of the Queen's Maries in many ballads ; and the name, which was perhaps adopted by some of the maids of honour, out of compliment to their unfortunate mistress, seems about this time to have passed into a general denomination for waiting women. ** Now bear a hand, my Maries a'. And busk me brave, and make me fine." Fragment of an old ballad. When she came to the Nethcrbow port. P. 154. V. 2. The Netherbow port was the gate which divided the city of Edinburgh from the suburb called the Cannongate. It had towers and a spire, which formed a fine termination to the view from the Cross. The gate was pulled down, in one of those fits of rage for indiscriminate destruction with which the magistrates of a corporation are sometimes visited. \66 THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST. PART FIRST. The following well known and beautiful stanzas were composed, many years ago, by a lady of family in Rox- burghshire. The manner of the ancient minstrels is so happily imitated, that it required the most positive evi- dence to convince the editor that the song was of modern date. Such evidence, however, he has been able to pro- cure ; having been favoured, through the kind interven- tion of Dr SoMERViLLE (well known to the literary world as the historian of King William, &c.) with the following authentic copy of the Flotiers of the Forest. 157 From the same respectable authority the editor is ena- bled to state, that the tune of the ballad is ancient, as well as the two following lines of the first stanza : I've heard them lilting at the ewes milking. The flowers of the forest are a' wede away. Some years after the song was composed, a lady, who is now dead, repeated to the author another imperfect line of the original ballad, which presents a simple and affecting image to the mind : " I ride single on my saddle, For the flowers of the forest are a' wede away." i The first of these trifling fragments, joined to the re- membrance of the fatal battle of Flodden (in the cala- mities accompanying which the inhabitants of Etricke Forest suffered a distinguished share), and to the present solitary and desolate appearance of the country, excited in the mind of the author the ideas, which she has ex- pressed in a strain of elegiac simplicity and tenderness which has seldom been equalled. 158 THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST. I've heard them hlting, at the ewe milking. Lasses a' hlting, before dawn of day ; But now they are moaning, on ilka green loaning ; The flowers of the forest are a' wede away. At bughts in the morning, nae blithe lads are scorning Lasses are lonely, and dowie and wae ; ISae daffing, nae gabbing, but sighing and sabbing ; Ilk ane lifts her leglin, and hies her awae. In har'st at the shearing, nae youths now are jearing ; Bandsters are runkled, and lyart or gray ; At fair, or at preaching, nae wooing, nae fleeching; The flowers of the forest are a' wede awae. 159 At e'en, in the gloaming, nae younkers are roaming 'Bout stacks, with the lasses at bogle to play ; But ilk maid sits dreary, lamenting her deary The flowers of the forest are weded awae. Dool and wae for the order, sent our lads to the border ! The English, for ance, by guile wan the day ; The flowers of the forest, that fought aye the foremost. The prime of our land are cauld in the clay. We'll hear nae mair lilting at the ewe milking ; Women and bairns are heartless and wae: Sighing and moaning on ilka green loaning The flowers of the forest are a' wede awae. The following explanation of provincial terms may be found useful. LiltingSinging chearfully . Loaning A broad Jane fTede away weeded out. Scorning Rallying. Do-wie Dreaiie. Daffing and Gabbing Joking and Chatting. L^//n Milk-pail. Ha-ru Harvest. Shearing Reaping, ^^wiiffri Sheaf-binders. Runkled Wrinkled. I,_yiir; Inclining to grey. FleechingCoa^xmg. Gloaming ^Twilight. 160 NOTE THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST. At fair, or at preaching. P. 158. V. 3. These lines have been said to contain an anachronism ; the supposed date of the lamentation being about the period of the field of Flodden. The editor can see no ground for this charge. Fairs were held in Scot- land from the most remote antiquity ; and are, from their very nature, scenes of pleasure and gallantry. The preachings of the friars were in- deed, professedly, meetings for a graver purpose ; but we have the au- tliority of the ff^ife of Bath (surely most unquestionable in such a point) that they were frequently perverted to places of rendezvous. I had the better leisur for to pleie, And for to see, and eke for to be seie Of lusty folk. What wist I where my grace Was shapen for to be, or in what place ? Therefore I made my visitations To vigilies and to processions : To preachings eke, and to thise pilgrimages, To plays of miracles, and marriages &c. Canterbury Tales. 161 THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST. PART SECOND. The following verses, adapted to the ancient air of the Flowers of the Forest, are, like the elegy which precedes them, the production of a lady. The late Mrs Cock- burn, daughter of Rutherford of Fairnalie, in Sel- kirkshire, and relict of Mr Cockburn of Ormiston (whose father was Lord Chief Justice Clerk of Scotland), was the authoress. Mrs Cockburn has been dead but a few years. Even at an age advanced beyond the usu- al bounds of humanity, she retained a play of imagina- tion, and an activity of intellect, which must have been attractive and delightful in youth, but was almost prcc- ternatural at her period of life. Her active benevo- lence, keeping pace with her genius, rendered her equal- VoL. II. L 162 ly an object of love and admiration. The editor, who knew her well, takes this opportunity of doing justice to his own feelings ; and they are in unison with those of all who knew hi^ regretted friend. The verses which follow were written at an early peri- od of life, and without peculiar relation to any event, un- less it were the depopulation of Ettrick forest. 163 THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST. I've seen the smiling of fortune beguiling, I've tasted her favours, and felt her decay ; Sweet is her blessing, and kind her caressing, But soon it is fled it is fled far away. I've seen the forest adorned of the foremost. With flowers of the fairest, both pleasant and gay : Full sweet was their blooming, their scent the air perfuming, But now they are wither'd, and a' wede away. L 2 164 I've seen the morning with gold the hills adorning. And the red storm roaring before the parting day ; I've seen Tweed's silver streams, glittering in the sunny beams. Turn drumly* and dark as they rolled on their way. O fickle fortune ! why this cruel sporting ? Why thus perplex us poor sons of a day ? Tliy frowns cannot fear me, thy smiles cannot cheer me, Since the flowers of the forest are a' wede away. Drttw/y discoloured. 165 THE LAIRD OF MUIRHEAD. This ballad is a fragment from Mr Herd's MS. communi- cated to him hy J. Guossett Muirhead, at Brea- desholm, near Glasgow, "who stated that he extracted it, as relating to his own family, from the complete song, in which the names of twenty or thirty gentleinen were mentioned, contained in a large collection belonging to Mr Alexander Monro, merchant in Lisbon, suppo- sed now to be lost. It appears, from the appendix to Nesbifs Heraldry, p. 264, that MuiRiiEAD of Lachop and Bullis, the per- son here called the Laird of Muirhead, was a man of rank, being rent alter, or perhaps feuar, of many crown lands in Galloway ; and was in truth slain, " in Canipo Belli de Northumberland sub vexillo Regis," i. e. in the field of Flodden. Afore the king in order stude The stout laird of Muirhead^ Wi' that sam twa-hand muckle sword That Bartram felled stark deid. L 3 166 He sware he wadna lose his right To fight in ilka field ; Nor budge him from his liege's sight. Till his last gasp should yield. Twa hunder mair, of his ain name, Frae Torwood and the Clyde, Sware they would never gang to hame. But a' die by his syde. And wondrous weil they kept their troth; This sturdy royal band Rush'd down the brae, wi' sic a frith. That nane cou'd them withstand. Mony a bludy blow they delt, The like was never seen ; And hadna that braw leader fallen. They ne'er had slain the king. 167 INTRODUCTION TO THE TALE OF TAMLANE. ON THE FAIRIES OF POPULAR SUPERSTITIO.V. In a work, avowedly dedicated to the preservation of the poetry and traditions of the " olden time," it would be unpardonable to omit this opportunity of making some observations upon so interesting an article of the popular creed, as that concerning the Elves, or Fairies. The general idea of spirits, of a limited power, and sub- ordinate nature, dwelling among the woods and moun- tains, is, perhaps, common to all nations. But the inter- mixture of tribes, of langua >cs, and religion, which has L 4 168 occurred in Europe, renders it difficult to trace the ori- gin of the names which have been bestowed upon such spirits, and the primary ideas which were entertained concerning their manners and habits. The word Elf, which seems to have been the original name of the beings, afterwards denominated Fairies, is of Gothic origin, and probably signified, simply, a spirit of a lower order. Thus, the Saxons had not only dun- elfen, berg-elj'en, and munt-elfen, spirits of the downs, hills, and mountains; but also f eld-elf en, wudu-elfen, sae-clfetiy and woeter-elfen ; spirits, of the fields, of the woods, oT the sea, and of the waters. In low German, the same la- titude of expression occurs ; for night hags are termed al- u'mnen, and aluen, which is sometimes latinized eluae. But the prototype of the Eaiglish elf is to be sought chiefly in the berg-elfen, or duergar of the Scandinavians. From the most early of the Icelandic Sagas, as well as from the Edda itself, we learn the belief of the northern nations in a race of dwarfish spirits, inhabiting the rocky moun- tains, and approaching in some respects to the human nature. Their attributes, amongst which we recognise the features of the modern fairy, were, supernatural wis- dom and prescience, and skill in the mechanical arts, es- cially in the fabrication of arms. They are farther de- scribed as capricious, vindictive, and easily irritated. The story of the elfin sword, Tyrfing, may be the most plea- sing illustration of this position. Suajurlami, a Scan- 169 dinavian monarch, returning from hunting, bewildered himself among the mountains. About sunset, he beheld a large rock, and two dwarfs sitting before the mouth of a cavern. The king drew his sword, and intercepted their retreat, by springing betwixt them and their recess, and imposed upon them the following condition of safety; that they should make for him a faulchion, with a baldric and scabbard of pure gold, and a blade, which should di- vide stones and iron as a garment, and which should ren- der the wielder ever victorious in battle. The elves com- plied with the requisition, and Suafurlami pursued his way home. Returning at the time appointed, the dwarfs delivered to him the famous sword, Tyrjing ; then, standing in the entrance of their cavern, spoke thus : " This sword, O king, shall destroy a man every time it is brandished; but it shall perform three atrocious deeds, and it shall be thy bane." The king rushed forward with the charmed sword, and buried both its edges in the rock ; but the dwarfs escaped into their recesses*. I'his en- chanted sword emitted rays like the sun, dazzling all against * Perhaps, in this, and similar tales, we may recognise something of real history. That the Fins, or ancient natives of Scandinavia, were Uriven into the mountains, by the invasion of Odin and his Asiatics, is sufficiently probable ; and there is reason to believe, that the aboriginal in- habitants understood, better than the intruders, how to manufacture the produce of their own mines. It is therefore jjossible, that, in process of time, the oppressed Fins may have been transformed into the supernatu- ral duergar. A similar transformation has taken place among the vulgar in Scotland, regarding the Picts, or Pechs, to whom they ascribe various supernatural attributes. 170 whom it was brandished ; it divided steel like water, and was never unsheathed without slaying a man. Hervarar Saga, p. 9- Similar to this was the enchanted sword, Skoffnung, which was taken by a pirate out of the tomb of a Norwegian monarch. Many such tales are narrated in the Sagas ; but the most distinct account of the duer- gar, or elves, and their attributes, is to be found in a pre- face of ToRFAEUS to the history of Hrolf Kraka, who cites a dissertation by Eikar Gudmund, a learned na- tive of Iceland. " I am firmly of opinion," says the Ice- lander, " that these beings are creatures of God, consist- " ing, like human beings, of a body and rational soul ; ** that they are of different sexes, and capable of produ- " cing children, and subject to all human affections, as " sleeping and waking, laughing and crying, poverty and " wealth ; and that they possess cattle, and other effects, " and are obnoxious to death, like other mortals." He proceeds to state, that the females of this race are capa- ble of procreating with mankind ; and gives an account of one who bore a child to an inhabitant of Iceland, for whom she claimed the privilege of baptism, depositing the infant for that purpose at the gate of the church-yard, together with a goblet of gold as an offering. Histo- ria Hrolfi, Kraka, a Tortaeo. Similar to the traditions of the Icelanders, are those current among the Laplanders of Finland, concerning a subterranean people, gifted with supernatural quaU ties, and 171 inhabiting the recesses of the earth. Resembling men in their general appearance, the manner of their existence, and their habits of hfe, they far excel the miserable Lap- landers in pe;"fection of nature, felicity of situation, and skill in mechanical arts. From all these advantages, how- ever, after the partial conversion of the Laplanders, the subterranean people have derived no farther credit, than to be confounded with the devils and magicians of the dark ages of Christianity ; a degradation, which, as will shortly be demonstrated, has been also suffered by the harmless fairies of Albion, and indeed by the whole host of deities, of learned Greece, and mighty Rome. The ancient opinions are yet so firmly rooted, that the Laps of Finland, at this day, boast of an intercourse with these beings, in banquets, dances, and magical cererao> nies, and even in the more intimate commerce of gallan- try. They talk with triumph of the feasts which they have shared in the elfin caverns, where wine and tobac- co, the productions of the fairy region, went round in abundance, and whence the mortal guest, after receiving the kindest treatment, and the most salutary counsel, has been conducted to his tent by an escort of his supernatU" ral entertainers. Jessens, de Lapponibus, The superstitions of the islands of Feroe, concerning their Froddenskemen, or underground people, are derived from the duergar of Scandinavia. These beings are sup- posed to inhabit the interior recesses of mountains, which 172 they enter by invisible passages. Like the fairies, they are supposed to steal human beings. " It happened" says Debes, p. 354, " a gcfcd while since, when the burgers " of Bergen had the commerce of Feroe, that there was " a man in Servaade, called Jonas Soideman, who was " kept by spirits in a mountain, during the space of seven , "years, and at length came out ; but lived afterwards in ** great distress and fear, least they should again take him " away ; wherefore people were obliged to watch him in " the night." The same author mentions another young man who had been carried away, and, after his return, was removed a second time upon the eve of his marriage. He returned in a short time, and narrated, that the spi- rit that had carried him away was in the shape of a most beautiful woman, who pressed him to forsake liis bride, and remain with her ; urging her own superior beauty and splendid appearance. He added, that he saw the men who were employed to search for him, and heard them call ; but that they could not see him, nor could he answer them, till, upon his determined refusal to lis- ten to the spirit's persuasions, the spell ceased to operate. The kidney shaped West Indian bean, which is sometimes driven upon the shore of the Feroes, is termed by the na- tives the Fairie's kidney. In these traditions of the Gothic and Finnish tribes, we may recognise with certainty the rudiments of Elfin superstition; but we must look to various other causes 173 for the modifications which it has undergone. These are to be sought in the traditions of the east, in the wreck and confusion of the Gothic mythology, in the tales of chf- valry, in the fables of classical antiquity, in the influ- ence of the christian religion, and finally, in the creative imagination of the l6th century. It may be proper to notice the effect of these various causes, before stating the popular belief of our own time regarding the Fairies. . " To the traditions of the east, the Fairies of Britain owe, I think, little more than the appellation by which they have been distinguished since the days of the cru- sade. The term Fairy occurs, not only in Ch aucer, and in yet older English authors, but also, and more frequent- ly, in the Romance language, from which they seem to have adopted it. Ducange cites the following passage from GuL. Guiart, in Historia Francica, MS. Plusieurs parlent de Guenart, Du Lou, de L'Asne, de Renart, De Faeries et de Songes, De phantosmes et de mensonges. The Lay le Frain, in a passage quoted at length in this volume, p. 103, enumerating the subjects of the Breton Layes, informs us expressly Many ther beth of Faery. 174 By some etymologists of that learned class, who not only know whence words come, but also whither they are going, the term Fairy, or Faerie, is derived from Fa'e, which is again derived from Nympha. It is more pro- bable the term is of oriental origin, and is derived from the Persic, through the medium of the Arabic. In Per- sic, the term Peri expresses a species of imaginary be- ing, which resembles the Fairy in some of its qualities, and is one of the fairest creatures of romantic fancy. This superstition must have been known to the Arabs, a- mong whom the Persian tales, or romances, even as early as the time of Mahomet, were so popular, that it required the most terrible denunciations of that le- gislator to proscribe them. Now, in the enunciation of the Arabs, the term Peri would sound Fairy, the let- ter p not occurring in the alphabet of that nation ; and, as the chief intercourse of the early crusaders was with the Arabs, or Saracens, it is probable they would adopt the term according to their pronunciation. Neither will it be considered as an objection to this opinion, that in Hesychius, the Ionian term Phereas, or Pheres, de- notes the Satyrs of classical antiquity, if the number of words of oriental origin in that lexicographer be recollec- ted. Of the Persian Peris, Ouseley, in his Persian Miscellanies, has described some characteristic traits, with all the luxuriance of a fancy, impregnated with the ori- ental association of ideas. However vaguely their nature and appearance is described, they are uniformly reprc- 175 sented as gentle, amiable females, to whose character be- neficence and beauty are essential. None of them are mischievous or malignant, none of them are deformed or diminutive, like the Gothic Fairy. Though they corres- pond in beauty with our ideas of angels, their employments are dissimilar; and, as they have no place in heaven, their abode is different. Neither do they resemble those intel- ligences, whom, on account of their wisdom, the Platonists denominated Daemons ; nor do they correspond either to the guardian Genii of the Romans, or the celestial virgins of Paradise, whom the Arabs denominate Houri. But the Peris hover in the balmy clouds, live in the colours of the rainbow, and, as the exquisite purity of their na- ture rejects all nourishment grosser than the odours of flowers, they subsist by inhaling the fragrance of the jes- samine and rose. Though their existence is not com- mensurate with the bounds of human life, they are not exempted from the common fate of mortals. With the Peris, in Persian mythology, aie contrasted the Dives, a race of beings who differ from them in sex, appear- ance, and disposition. These are represented as of the male sex, cruel, wicked, and of the most hideous as- pect ; or, as they are described by Mr Finch, "with ug- ly shapes, long horns, staring eyes, shaggy hair, great fangs, ugly paws, long tails, with such horrible difformi- ty and deformity, that I wonder the poor women are not frightened therewith." Though they live very long, their lives are limited, and they are obnoxious to the blows of ]76 a human foe. From the malignancy of their nature, they not only wage war with mankind, but persecute the Peris with unremitting ferocity. Such are the bril- liant and fanciful colours in which the imaginations of the Persian poets have depicted the charming race of the Peris ; and, if we consider the romantic gallantry of the knights of chivalry, and of the crusaders, it will not ap- pear improbable that their charms might occasionally fas- cinate the fervid imagination of an amorous troubadour. But further ; the intercourse of France and Italy with the moors of Spain, and the prevalence of the Arabic, as the language of science in the dark ages, facilitated the introduction of their mythology amongst the nations of the west. Hence, the romances of France, of Spain, and of Italy, unite in describing the Fairy as an inferior spirit, in a beautiful female form, possessing many of the amiable qualities of the eastern Peri. Nay, it seems sufficiently clear, that the romancers borrowed from the Arabs, not merely the general idea concerning those spi- rits, but even the names of individuals amongst them. The Peri, Mergian Banou, celebrated in the ancient Per- sian poetry, figures in the European romances under the various names of Mourgue La Faye, sister to King Ar- tha ; Urgande La Deconnue, protectress of Amadis dc Gaul; and the Fata Morgana of Boiardo and Arios- To. The description of these nymphs, by the trouba- dours and minstrels, is in no respect inferior to those of the Peris. In the tale of Sir Launfal, in Way's Fabliaux. 177 as well as in that of Sir Gruelan, in the same Interesting collection, the reader will find the fairy of Normandy, or Bretagne, adorned with all the splendour of eastern description. The fairy Melusina, also, who married a count of PoiCTOU, under condition that he should never attempt to intrude upon her privacy, was of this latter class. She bore the count many children, and erected for him a magnificent castle by her magical art. Their harmony was uninterrupted, until the prying husband broke the conditions of their union, by concealing himself to behold his wife make use of her enchanted bath. Hardly had Melusina discovered the indiscreet intruder, than, transforming herself into a dragon, she departed with a loud yell of lamentation, and was never again vi- sible to mortal eyes; although, even in the days of Bran- tome, she was supposed to be the protectress of her de- scendants, and was heard wailing, as she sailed upon the blast round the turrets of her castle, the night before it was demolished. For the full story the reader may con- sult the Bibliotheque des Romans*. Gervase of Til- Uponthis, or some similar tradition, was founded the notion, which the inveteracy of national prejudice so easily diffused in Scotland, that the ancestor of the English monarchs, Geoffrey Plantage- NET, had actually married a daemon. For dun, in order to explain the cruelty and ambition ot Ed w AR d I. dedicates a chapter to shew " how thi. Kings of England are descended from the devil, by the mother's s'K\e."F0rdun. Chron. Lib. ^th, cap. 6th. The lord of a certain castle, called Espcr-vcl, was unfortunate enough to have a wife of the same class. Having observed for several years, that she always left the cha- pel before the mass was concluded, the baron, in a fit of obstinacy or cu- riosity, ordered his guard to detain her by force ; of wliich the con<:f'- Vol. II. M 178 bury, (p. 895, and 989,) assures us, that in his days the lovers of the Fadae, or Fairies, were numerous ; and des- cribes the rules of their intercourse with as much accu- racy as if he had himself been engaged in such an affair. While, however, the Fairy of warmer climes was thus held up as an object of desire and of affection, those of Britain, and more especially those of Scotland, were far from being so fortunate; but, retaining the unamiable qualities, and diminutive si?5e, of the Gothic Elves, they only exchanged that term for the more popular appella- tion of Fairies. Indeed, so singularly unlucky were the British fairies, that, as has already been hinted, amid the wreck of the Gothic mythology, consequent upon the introduction of Christianity, they seem to have preserved with difficulty their own distinct characteristics, while, at the same time, they engrossed the mischievous attributes of several other classes of subordinate spirits, acknowledged by the nations of the north. The abstraction of children, for example, the well known practice of the modern fairy, seems, by the ancient Gothic nations, to have rather been ascribed to a species of night-mare, or hag, than to the b^rg-elfen or duergar. Thus, Ger- VASE of Tilbury, in the Otia Imperialla, mentions cer- tain hags, or Lamiae, whose practice it was to enter in- quence was, that, unable to support the elevation of the host, she re- treated through the air, carrying with her one side of the chapel, an4 several of the congregation. 179 to houses in the night time, to oppress the inhabitants while asleep, injure their persons and property, and car- ry off their children. He likewise mentions the Draccr, a sort of water spirits, who inveigle women and chil- dren into the recesses which they inhabit, beneath lakes and rivers, by floating past them, on the surface of the water, in the shape of gold rings or cups. The wo- men, thus seized, are employed as nurses, and, after seven years, are permitted to revisit earth. Geuvase men- tions one woman, in particular, who had been allured by observing a wooden dish, or cup, float by her, while washing cloaths in a river. Being seized as soon as she reached the depths, she was conducted into one of these subterranean recesses, which she described as very mag- nificent, and employed as nurse to one of the brood of the hag who had allured her. During her residence in tills ca- pacity, having accidentally touched one of her eyes with an ointment of serpent's grease, she perceived, at her re- turn to the world, that she had acquired the faculty of seeing the ilraae, when they intermingle themselves with men. Of this power she was, however, deprived by the touch of her ghostly mistress, whom she had one day in- cautiously addressed. It is a curious fact, that this sto- ry, in almost all its parts, is current in both the high- lands and lowlands of Scotland, with no other variation than the substitution of Fairies tor Dracos, and the ca- vern of a hill for that of a river*. * Indeed, many of the vulgar account it extremely dangerous to touch iny thing, which they may hajjpen to find, without salnirg (blessing) it, M 2 180 The following Frisian superstition, related by Schott, in his Phiisica Curiosa, p. 362, on the authority of Cor- JTELius a Kempen, coincides more accurately with the popular opinions concerning the Fairies, than even the Dracse of Gervase. " In the time of the Emperor LoTHARius, in 830," says he, " many spectres infested Friseland, particularly the white nymphs of the ancients, which the moderns denominate ajj^^etcire/j, who inhabited a subterraneous cavern, formed in a wonderful manner without human art, on the top of a lofty mountain. These were accustomed to surprise benighted travellers, shepherds watching their herds and flocks, and women newly delivered, with their children ; and convey them into their caverns, from which, subterranean murmurs, the cries of children, the groans and lamentations of men, and sometimes imperfect words, and all kinds of musical sounds, were heard to proceed." The same superstition the snares of the enemy being notorious and well attested. A poor woman of Tiviotdale, having been fortunate enough, as she thought herself, to find a wooden beetle, at the very time when she needed such an imple- ment, seized it without pronouncing the proper blessing, and, carrying it home, laid it above her bed, to be ready for employment in the morning. At miilnight, the window of her cottage openea, and a loud voice was heard calling upon some one within, by astrangeand uncouth name which I have forgotten. The terrified cottager ejaculated a prayer, which wc may suppose insured her personal safety ; while the enchanted imple- ment of housewifery, tumbUng from the bed-stead, departed by the win- dow with no small noise and precipitation. In a humorous fugitive tract, the late Dr Johnson is introduced as disputing the authenticity of an apparition, merely because the spirit assumed the shape of a tea- pot, anrl of a shoulder of mutton. No doubt, a case so much in point, us that we have now quoted, would have removed his incredulity. 181 is detailed by Bekker, in his World Bewitched, p. 196, of the English translation. As the different classes o'f spi- rits were gradually confounded, the abstraction of chil- dren seems to have been chiefly ascribed to the elves, or fairies ; yet not so entirely as to exclude hags and witches from the occasional exertion of their ancient pri- vilege. In Germany, the same confusion of classes has not taken place. In the beautiful ballads of the Erl King, the Water King, and the Mer-Maid, we still recog- nize the ancient traditions of the Goths, concerning the ^\'ald Elven and the Dracae. A similar superstition, concerning abstraction by dae- mons, seems, in the time of Gervase of Tilbury, to have pervaded the greatest part of Europe. " In Catalonia," says that author, " there is a lofty mountain, named Ca- vagum, at the foot of which runs a river with golden sands, in the vicinity of which there are likewise mines of silver. This mountain is steep, and almost inaccessi- ble. On its top, which is always covered with ice and snow, is a black and bottomless lake, into which if a stone be thrown, a tempest suddenly rises ; and near this lake, though invisible to men, is the porch of the palace of dae- mons. In a town adjacent to this mountain, named Junchera, lived one Peter de Cabinam. Being one day teazed with the frctfulncss of his young daughter, ho, in his impatience, suddenly wished that the devil might take her ; when she was immediately borne away by the spirits. About seven years afterwards, an inhabitant of ISI 3 182 the same city, passing by the mountain, met a man who complained bitterly of the burthen he was constantly for- ced to bear. Upon enquiring the cause of his complain- ing, as he did not seem to carry any load, the man rela- ted, that he had been unwarily devoted to the spirits by an execration, and that they now employed him con- stantly as a vehicle of burden. As a proof of his asser- tion, he added, that the daughter of his fcHow citizen was detained by the spirits, but that they were willing to re- store her, if her father would come and demand her on the mountain. Peter de Cabinam, on being inform- ed of this, ascended the mountain to the lake, and, in the name of God, demanded his daughter; when, a tall, thin, withered figure, with wandering eyes, and almost bereft of understanding, was wafted to him in a blast of wind. After some time, the person, who had been em- ployed as the vehicle of the spirits, also returned, when he related where the palace of the spirits was situated ; but added, that none were permitted to enter but those who devoted themselves entirely to the spirits, those who had been rashly committed to the devil by others, being only permitted, during their probation, to enter the porch." It may be proper to observe, that the superstitious idea, concerning the lake on the top of the mountain, is com- mon to almost every high hill in Scotland. Wells, or pits, on the top of high hills, were likewise supposed to lead to the subterranean habitations of the Fairies. Thus, Gervase relates (p. 97^) " that he was informed the swine-herd of William Peverel, an English ba- 183 ron, having lost a brood-sow, descended through a deep abyss, in the middle of an ancient ruinous castle, situated on the top of a hill, called Bech, in search of it. Though a violent wind commonly issued from this pit, he found it calm ; and pursued his way, till he arrived at a subter- raneous region, pleasant and cultivated, with reapers cut- ting down corn, though the snow remained on the sur- face of the ground above. Among the ears of corn he discovered his sow, and was permitted to ascend with her, and the pigs which she had farrowed." Though the au- thor seems to think that the inhabitants of this cave might be Antipodes, yet, as many such stories are related of the Fairies, it is probable that this narration is of the same kind. Of a similar nature seems to be another su- perstition, mentioned by the same author, concerning the ringing of invisible bells, at the hour of one, in a field in the vicinity of Carleol, which, as he relates, was denomi- nated Laikibraine, or Lai ki brait. From all these tales, we may perhaps be justified in supposing, that the facul- ties and habits ascribed to the Fairies, by the superstition of latter days, comprehend several originally attributed to other classes of inferior spirits. The notions, arising from the spirit of chivalry, combi- ned to add to the Fairies certain qualities, less atrocious indeed, but equally formidable with those which they de- rived from the last mentioned source, and alike inconsis- tent with the powers of the Duergar, whom we may term their primitive prototype. From an early period, the M 4 ]84 daring temper of the northern tribes urged them to defy even the supernatural powers. In the days of C^sar, the Suevi were described by their countrymen, as a people with whom the immortal Gods dared not ven- ture to contend. At a later period, the historians of Scandinavia paint their heroes and champions, not as bending at the altar of their deities, but wandering into remote forests and caverns, descending into the recesses of the tomb, and extorting boons, alike from Gods and Daemons, by dint of the sword and battle-axe. I will not detain the reader by quoting instances, in which hea- ven is thus described as having been literally attempted by storm. He may consult Saxo, Olaus Wormius, Olaus Magnus, Torfaeus, Bartholin, and other northern antiquaries. With such ideas of superior beings, the Normans, Saxons, and other Gothic tribes, brought their ardent courage to ferment yet more highly in the genial climes of the south, and under the blaze of roman- tic chivalry. Hence, during the dark ages, the invisible world was modelled after the material ; and the saints, to the protection of whom the knights errant were ac- customed to recommend themselves, were accoutered like preux chevaliers by the ardent imaginations of their votaries. With such ideas concerning the inhabitants of the celestial regions, we ought not to be surprised to find the inferior spirits, of a more dubious nature and origin, equipped in the same disguise. Gervase of Tilbury, COtia Imperial, ap. Script, rer. Brunsvic, Vol. 1, p. 7 97 J relates the following popular story concerning a Fairy 185 knight. " Osbert, a bold and powerful baron, visited a noble family in the vicinity of Wandlebury, in the bishop- ric of Ely. Among other stories related in the social circle of his friends, who, according to custom, amused each other by repeating ancient tales and traditions, he was informed, that, if any knight, unattended, entered an adjacent plain by moonlight, and challenged an adversary to appear, he would immediately be encountered by a spi- rit in the form of a knight. Oshert resolved to make the experiment, and set out attended by a single squire, whom he ordered to remain without the limits of the plain, which was surrounded by an ancient entrenchment. On repeat- ing the challenge, he was instantly assailed by an adver- sary, whom he quickly unhorsed, and seized the reins of his steed. During this operation, his ghostly opponent sprung up, and darting his spear, like a javelin, at Osbert, wounded him in the thigh. Osbert returned in triumph with the 'horse, which he committed to the care of his servants. The horse was of a sable colour, as well as his whole accoutrements, and apparently of great beauty and vigour. He remained with his keeper till cock-crowing, when, with eyes flashing fire, he reared, spurned the ground, and vanished. On disarming himself, Osbert per- ceived that he was wounded, and that one of his steel boots was full of blood. Gervase adds, that as long as he lived, the scar of his wound opened afresh, on the anni- versary of the eve on which he encountered the spirit*." * The unfortunate Chatter ton was not, probably, acquainted with Gervase of Tilbury j yet he seems to allude, in the Battle of 186 To the same current of warlike ideas, we may safely attribute the long train of military processions which the Fairies are occasionally supposed to exhibit. The elves, indeed, seem in this point to be identified with the aerial host, termed, during the middle ages, the Milites Herliki- ni, or Herleurini, celebrated by Pet. Blesensis, and termed, in the life of St Thomas of Canterbury, the Fa- milia Helliquinii. Such was also the Nacht Lager, or midnight camp, which seemed nightly to beleaguer the walls of Prague, " With ghastly faces thronged, and fiery arms," but which disappeared upon recitation of the magical words, Vezele, Vczele, ho ! ho ! ho f-^For similar delu- sions, see Delrius, p. 2.94, 295. The martial spirit of our ancestors led them to defy these aerial warriors; and it is still currently* believed, that he, who has courage to rush upon a Fairy festival, and snatch from them their drinking cup, or horn, shall find it prove to him a cornucopia of good fortune, if he can bear it in safety across a running stream. Such a horn is said to have been presented to Henry I. by a lord of Colchester. Gervas. Tilb. p. 980. A gob- let is still preserved in Edenhall, Cumberland, which is Hastings, to some modification of Sii Osbert''s adventure So who they be that Ouphant fairies strike. There souls shall wander to King Offa's dike. The entrenchment, which served as lists for the combatants, is said by GERVASEto have been the work of the Pagan invaders of Britain. 187 supposed to have been seized at a banquet of the elves, by one of the ancient family of MusGRAVE, in the man- ner above described. The Fairy train vanished, crying aloud, If. this cup either break or fall. Farewell the Luck of Edenhall ! The goblet took a name from the prophecy, under which it is mentioned by the duke of Wharton : God prosper long, from being broke. The luck of Edenhall. Parody on Chevy Chac:. Some faint traces yet remain, on the borders, of a con- flict of a mysterious and terrible nature, between mortals and the spirits of the wilds. This superstition is inci- dentally alluded to by Jackson, at the beginning of the 17th century. The fern seed, which is supposed to be- come visible only on St John's Eve*, and at the very mo- ment when the Baptist was born, is held by the vulgar to be under the special protection of the Queen of Faery.^ But, as the seed was supposed to have the quality of ren- Ne'er be I found by thee unawed, On that thrice hallowed Eve abroad, When goblins haunt, from fire and fen, And wood and lake, the steps of men. CoLLiNs's Ode to Fear. The wholehistory of Saint John the Baptist was by our ancestors ac- counted mysterious, and connected with their own superstitions. The Fairy queen was sometimes identified with Herodias. Delrii Dh- quhhionei Magicie, p. 168, 807. It is amusing to observe, with what gravity the learned Jesuit contends, that it is heresy to believe that this celebrated figurante (sahatrkula) still leads choral dances upon earth ! 188 dering the possessor invisible at pleasure*, and to be also of sovereign use in charms and incantations, persons of courage, addicted to these mysterious arts, were viront to watch in solitude, to gather it at the moment when it should become visible. The particular charms^ by which they fenced themselves during this vigil, are now un- known ; but it was reclioned a feat of no small danger, as the pei-son undertaking it was exposed to the most dreadful assaults from spirits, who dreaded the effect of this powerful herb in the hands of a cabalist. Such were the shades, which the original superstition, concerning the Fairies, received from the chivalrous sentiments of the middle ages. An absurd belief in the fables of classical antiquity, lent an additional feature to the character of the wood- land spirits of whom we treat. Greece and Rome had not only assigned tutelary deities to each province and city, but had peopled with peculiar spirits, the seas, the rivers, the woods, and the mountains. The memory of the pa- gan creed was not speedily eradicated, in the extensive provinces through which it was once universally recei- ved ; and, in many particulars, it continued long to min- gle with and influence the original superstitions of the Gothic nations. Hence, we find the elves occasionally arrayed in the costume of Greece and Rome, and the * This is alluded to by Shakespeare, and other authors of his time : *' We have the receipt o( Fern-seed i we walk invisible." Henry lY. part, ist, Act. 2, &. 3. 189 Fairy queen and her attendants transformed into Diana and her nymphs, and invested with their attributes and appropriate insignia. Delrius, p. l68. 8O7. According to the same author, the Fairy queen was also called Ha- bundia. Lilic Diana, who, in one capacity, was deno- minated Hecate, the goddess of enchantment, ?hc Fairy queen is identified, in popular tradition, with the Gyre- Carline, Gay Carline, or mother witch, of the Scotishpea- santry. Of this personage, as an individual, we have but few notices. She is sometimes termed Nicnevcn, and is mentioned in the Complaint of Scotland, by Lindsay in his Dreme, p. 225, Edit. 1590, and in his interludes, apud Pinkerton's Scotish Poems, V. 2. p. IS. But the traditionary accounts regarding her are too obscure to admit of explanation. In the burlesque fragment sub- joined, which is copied from the Banxatyne MS. the Gyre Carline is termed the Queen of Joxvis (Jovis), and is, with gieat consistency, married to MoiiaMiAied'. In Tiberius tyme, the trew imperatoiir, Quhen Tynto hills fra skraiping of toun-henis was keipit, Thair dwelt ane grit Gyre Carling in awld Betokis bour. That levit upoun christiane menis flesche, and rewheids iinleipit . Thair wynitane hir by, on the west syde, callit Blasoiir, For luve of hir lauchane lippis, hewalitand he weipit; He gadderit ane menzie of modwartis to warp doun the tour : The Carling with an yren club, (juhen yat Blasour sleipir, Behind the hcilscho hatt him sic ane blaw, guhil Blasour bled ane (juart Off milk pottage inwart. The Carling luche, and lut fait Nortli berwik law. 190 But chiefly in Italy were traced many dim characters of antient mythology, in the creed of tradition. Of this singular mixture the reader will find a curious specimen in the following tale, wherein the Venus of antiquity as- sumes the manners of one of the Fays, or Fatae, of ro- mance.- In the year 1058, a young man of noble birth had been married at Rome, and, during the period of his nuptial feast, having gone with his companions to play at ball, he put his marriage ring on the finger of a broken statue of Venus in the area, to remain while he was en- gaged in the recreation. Desisting from the exercise, he. found the finger, on which he had put his ring, contracted firmly against the palm, and attempted in vain either to break it, or to disengage his ring. He concealed the cir- cumstance from his companions, and returned at night with a servant, when he found the finger extended, and his ring gone. He dissembled the loss, and returned to his wife; but, whenever he attempted toembrace her, he The king offaiy than come, with elfismany ane, And sett ane sege, and ane salt, with grit pcnsaliis of pryd ; And all the doggis fra Dunbar, wes thair to Dumblane, With all the tykis of Tervey, come ta thanie that tyd ; Thay (juell doun wuh thair gonnes mony gnt stane, The Carling schup hir on ane sow, and is hir gaitis gane, Gruntying our the Greik sieand durst na langer byd, For brukling of bargane, and breiking of browis : The Carlir.g now ibr dispyte Is mareit with Mahomyte, And will the doggis interdyte. For scho is quene of Jowis. 191 found himself prevented by something dark and dense, which was tangible, though not visible, interposing be- tween them ; and he heard a voice saying, " embrace me ! for I am Venus, whom this day you wedded, and I will not restore your ring." As this was constantly repeated, he consulted his relations, who had recourse to Palumbusy a priest, skilled in necromancy. He directed the youi^ man to go, at a certain hour of night, to a spot among the x'uins of ancient Rome, where four roads met, and wait silently till he saw a company pass by, and then, without uttering a word, to deliver a letter, which he gave him, to a majestic being who rode in a chariot, after the rest of the company. The young man did as he was directed ; and saw a company of all ages, sexes, and ranks, on horse and on foot, some joyful and others sad, pass along ; among whom he distinguished a woman, in a me- retricious dress, who, from the tenuity of her garments, seemed almost naked. She rode on a mule ; her long hair, Sensyne the cokkis of Crawmoiind crew never at day. For dule of that devillisch deme wes with mahoun martjt, And the henis of Hadingtoun sensyne wald not lay. For this wild wibroun wich thame witUit sa and wareit And the same north berwik law, as I heir wyvis say, This carling, with a fals cast, wald away careit : For to luck on quha sa lykis, na langcr scho tareit, ^!1 thislangour for love before tymes fell, Lang or Betok was b:>ni, Scho bred or an accorne ; The laif of the story to inorne, To vou I sail tell. 192 which flowed over her shoulders, was bound with a gol- den fillet ; and in her hand was a golden rod, with which she directed her mule. In the close of the procession, a tall majestic figure appeared in a chariot, adorned with emeralds and pearls, who fiercely asked the young man, what he did there ? He presented the letter in silence, which the daemon dared not refuse. As soon as he had read, lifting up his hands to heaven, he exclaimed, " Al- mighty God ! how long wilt thou endure the iniquities of the sorcerer Palumbus !" and immediately dispatched some of his attendants, who, with much difficulty, extor- ted the ring from Venus, and restored it to its owner, whose infernal banns were thus dissolved. Forduni Scotichronicon, Vol. 1. p, 407 , cur a Good all. But it is rather in the classical character of an infernal deity that the Elfin Queen may be considered, than as He- cate, the patroness of magic ; tor not only in the romance writers, but even in Chaucer, are the fairies identified with the ancient inhabitants of the classical hell. Thus CiiAUCER, in his Marchand's Tale, mentions Pluto that is king of Fayrie and Proserpine and all her Fayrie. In the Golden Terge of Dunbar, the same phraseo- logy is adopted. Thus Thair was Pluto that clricke incubus In cloke of grene, his courtusitin sable. 193 Even so late as l602, in Ha Usenet's Declaration of Popish Imposture, p. 57, Mercury is called Prince of the Fairies. r But Chaucer, and those poets who have adopted his phraseology, have only followed the romance writers ; for the same substitution occurs in the romance of Orfeo and Heurodis, in which the story of Orpheus and Eury- dice is transformed into a beautiful romantic tale of Faery, and the Gothic mythology engrafted on the fables of Greece. Heurodis is represented as wife of Orfeo, and Queen of Winchester, the ancient name of which city, the romancer, with unparalleled ingenuity, discovers to have been Traciens, or Thrace. The monarch, her hus- band, had a singular genealogy : His fader was comen of King Pluto, And his moder of King Juno ; That sum time were as godes yholde. For auentours that thai dede and tolde. Reposing, unwarily, at noon, under the shade of an 1/tnp tree*, Heurodis dreams that she is accosted by the king of Fairies, " With an hundred kniztes and mo. And damisels an hundred also ; Al on snowe white stedes, * Ymp tree. -According to the general acceptation, this only signijjes a grafted tree ; "whether it should be here understood to mean, a tree conse- crated to the Imps, or Fairies, is left tvith the reader. Vol. II. N 194 As white as milke were her wedes 5 Y no seize neuer zete bifore. So fair creatours ycore : The kinge hadde a croun on hed. It nas of sileur, no of golde red, Ac it was of a precious ston : As brizt as the sonne it schon. The king of Fairies, who had obtained power over the queen, perhaps from her sleeping at noon in his domain, orders her, under the penalty of being torn to pieces, to await him to-morrow under the ymp tree, and accom- pany him to Fairy Land. She relates her dream to her husband, who resolves to accompany her, and attempt her rescue. A morwe the under tide is come, And Orfeo hath his armes ynome. And wele ten hundred kniztes with him, Ich yarmed stout and grim j And with the quen wenten he, Rizt unto that ympe tre. Thai made scheltrom in ich aside, And sayd thai wold there abide. And dye ther euerichon, Er the quen schuld fram hem gon : Ac zete amiddes hem ful rizt. The quen was oway ytwizt> With Fair I forth ynome. Men wizt neuer wher sche was become. After this fatal catastrophe, Orfeo, distracted for the loss of his queen, abandons his throne, and, with his harp, retires into a wilderness, where he subjects himself to every kind of austerity, and attracts the wild beasts 195 by the pathetic melody of his harp. His state of deso- lation is poetically described. " He that werd the fowe and griis, And on bed the purpur biis. Now on hard hethe he lith. With leves and gresse he him writh : He that had castells and tours, Rivers, forests, frith with flowrs, Now, thei it commence to snewe and freze, This king mot make his bed in mese : He that had y had kniztes of priis, Bifor him kneland and leuedis. Now seth he no thing that him liketh, Bot wild wormes bi him striketh : He that had y had plente. Of mete and drlnke, of ich deynte, Now may he al daye digge and wrote, . Er he find his fille of rote : In somer he llveth bi wild fruit, And verien bot gode lite. In winter may he no thing find, Bot rotes, grases, and the rinde. His here of his berd blac and rowe. To his girdel stede was growe j His harp, whereon was all his gle. He hidde in ane holwc tre : And, when the weder was clere and brizt. He toke his harp to him wel rizt. And harped at his owen will. Into al the wode the soun gan shill. That al the wild bestes, that ther be. For joie abouten him thai teth ; And al the foules that ther were. Come and sete on ich a brere, To here his harping a fine. So miche melody was therein. N 2 196 At last he discovers that he is not the sole inhabitant of this desart ; for He mizt se him besides, Oft in hot undertides. The King of Fairi with his rout> Com to hunt him al about : With dim cri and bloweing. And houndes also with him berking j Ac no best thai no nome. No neuer he nist whider thai bi come. And other while he mizt hem se. As a gret ost bi him te, Wei atourned ten hundred kniztes, Ich yarmed to his riztes, Of cuntenaunce stout and fers. With mani desplaid baners ; And ich his sword ydrawe hold ; Ac neuer he nist whidei thai wold. And otherwhile he seize other thing j. Kniztes and leuedis com daunceing. In queynt atire gisely, gueyete pas and softlie : Tabours and trumpes zede hem bi. And al maner menstraci. And on a day he seize him biside, Sexti leuedis on hors ride, Gentil and jolif as brid on ris j Nouzt o man amonges hem ther nis ; And ich a faucoun on hond bere. And riden on haukin bi o riuer Of game thai found wel gode haunt, Maulardes, hayroun, and cormoraunt j The foules of the water ariseth, Ich faucoun hem wele deuiseth, Ich faucoun his pray slouz, That seize Orfeo and louz. " Par fay," quoth he, " ther is fair game ! " I hider Ichil bi Codes name, 197 Ich was y won swich work to se s" He aros, and thider gan te ; To a leuedi hi was y come, Bihelde, and hath wel under nome. And seth, bi al thing, that it is His owhen quen Dam Heurodis ; Zem hi biheld her, and sche him eke, Ac nouther to other a word no speke : For messais that sche on him seize. That had ben so riche, and so heize. The teres fel out of her eize ; The other leuedis this y seize. And maked hir oway to ride, Sche most with him no longer obide. " Alias !" quoth he, " nowe is mi woe, " Whi nil deth now me slo ; " Alias ! to 'ong last mi liif, " When y no dare nouzt with mi wif, " Nor hye to me, o word speke ; " Alias whi nil miin hert bn ke ! ' Par fay," quoth he, " tide what betide, " Whider so this leuedis ride, " The selve way Ichil streche ; " Of liif, no dethe, me no reche." In consequence, therefore, of this discovery, Orfeu pui'sues the hawking damsels, among whom he has des- cryed his lost queen. They enter a rock, the king con- tinues the pursuit, and arrives at Fairy Land, of which the following very poetical description is given. In at a roche the leuedis rideth. And he after and nouzt abideth ; When he v/as in the roche ygo, Wele thre mile other mo. He com into a fair cuntray. As brizt sooniie somers day, N 3 198 Smothe and plain and al grene. Hill no dale nas none ysene, Amiddle the lond a castel he seize, Riche and reale and wonder heize ; Al the utmast wal, Was cler ar.d schine of cristal ; An hundred tours ther were about, Degiselich and bataild stout ; The butrass come out of the diche, Of ri de gold yarched riche ; The bousour was anowed al. Of ich maner deuers animal ; Within ther wer wide wones Al of precious stones The werss piler onto biholde, Was al of burnist gold : Al that lond was euer lizt, For when it schuld be therk and nizt. The riche stonnes lizt gonne, Brizt as doth at none the sonne : No man may tel, no thenke in thouzt The riche werk that that was rouzt. Than he gan biholde about al. And seize ful liggeand with in the wal, Of folk that wer thider y brouzt. And thouzt dede and nare nouzt j Sum stode with outcn hade ; And sum non armt? nade ; And sum thurch the bodi hadde wounde ; And sum lay wode ybounde 3 And sum armed on hors sete ; And sum astranglcd as thai ete j And sum war in *ater adreynt ; And sum with fire al for schreynt ; Wiues ther lay on childe bedde j Sum dede, and sum aweddt j And wonder fele ther lay besides, Rizt as thai slepe her undertides j 199 Eche was thus In this warld ynomef With fairi thider ycome*. Ther he seize his owhen wiif. Dame Heurodis his liif liif Slepe under an ympe tree : Bi her clothes he knewe that it was he. And when he had bihold this meruails alle, He went unto the kinges halle ; Then seize he ther a semly sizt, A tabernacle blisseful and brizt, Ther in her maister king sete. And her quen fair and swete ; Her crounes, her clothes schine so brizt That unnethe bihold he hem mizt. Orfeo and Heurodis, MS. Orfeo, as a minstrel, so charms the Fairy king with the music of his harp, that he promises to grant him what- ever he should ask. He immediately demands his lost Heurodis ; and, returning safely with her to Winchester, resumes his authority ; a catastrophe, less pathetic indeed, but more pleasing, than that of the classical story. The circumstances, mentioned in this romantic legend, corres- pond very exactly with popular tradition. Almost all the writers on dasmonology mention, as a received opi- nion, that the power of the daemons is most predominant at noon and midnight. The entrance to the land of Faery is placed in the wilderness; a circumstance which coin- * It was perhaps from such a description that Ariosto adopted his idea of the Lunar Paradise, containing every thing that on earth was stojen or lost. N 4- 200 cides with a passage in Lindsay's Complaint of the Pa- pingo. Bot sen my spreit mon from my bodye go, I recommend it to the Quene of Fary, Eternally into her court to tarry In wilderness amang the holtis hair. Lindsay's fVorks, 1592, p. 222. Chaucer also agrees, in this particular, with our romancer. In his sadel he clombe anon, And priked over stile and ston An elf quene for to espie ; Til he so long had riden and gone That he fond, in a privie wone. The countree of Faerie. Wherein he sough te north and south, And often spired witli his mouth, In many a foreste wilde ; For in that countree nas ther non, That to him dorst ride or gon. Neither wif ne childe. Rime of Sir Thopas. Other two causes, deeply affecting the superstition of which we treat, remain yet to be noticed. The first is derived from the Christian religion, which admits only of two classes of spirits, exclusive of the souls of men angels, namely, and devils. This doctrine had a neces- sary tendency to abolish the distinction among subordi- nate spirits, which had been introduced by the supersti- tions of the Scandinavians. The existence of the fairies 201 was readily admitted ; but, as they had no pretensions to the angelic character, they were deemed to be of in- fernal origin. The union also, which had been formed betwixt the elves and the Pagan deities, was probably of disservice to the former ; since every one knows, that the whole synod of Olympus were accounted daemons. The fulminations of the church were, therefore, early directed against those who consulted or consorted with the fairies ; and, according to the inquisitorial logic, the innocuous choristers of Oberon and Titania were, with- out remorse, confounded with the sable inhabitants of the orthodox Gehennim, This transformation early took place ; for, among the many crimes for which the famous Joan of Arc was called upon to answer, it was not the least heinous, that she had frequented the Tree and Fountain near Dompre, which formed the rendez- vous of the fairies, and bore their name; that she had joined in the festive dance with the elves, who haunted this charmed spot; had accepted of their magical bou- (juets, and availed herself of their talismans for the deli- very of her country. Vide Acta Judiciaria contra Jo- HANXAM D'ARCEAM,t'Jviftest runner in the parish, was to pursue the body ; ahd, if he was able to seize it, before it had thrice encir- cled the church, the rest were to come to his assistance, and detain it, in spite of the struggles it should use, and the various shapes into which it might be transformed. The redemption of the abstracted person was then to be- come complete. The minister, a sensible man, argued with his parishioner upon the indecency and absurdity of what was proposed, and dismissed him. Next Sunday, the banns being for the first time proclaimed betwixt the widower and his new bride, his former wife, very natural- ly, took the opportunity of the following night to make him another visit, yet more terrific than the former. She upbraided him with his incredulity, his fickleness, and his want of affection ; and, to convince him that her appearance was no aerial illusion, she gave suck, in his presence, to her youngest child. The man, under the greatest horror of mind, had again recourse to the pastor ; and his ghostly counsellor fell upon an admirable expedient to console him. This was nothing less than dispensing with the further solemnity of banns, and mar- 224 rying him, without an hour's delay, to the young woman to whom he was affianced ; after which no spectre again disturbed his repose. Having concluded these general observations upon the fairy superstition, which, although minute, may not, I hope, be deemed altogether uninteresting, I proceed to the more particular illustrations relating to the Tale of the Young Tarnlane. The following ballad, still popular in Ettrick Forest, where the scene is laid, is certainly of much greater an- tiquity than its phraseology, gradually modernized as transmitted by tradition, would seem to denote. The Tale of the Young Tamlaneis mentioned in the Complai/nt of Scotland ; and the air, to which it was chaunted, seems to have been accommodated to a particular dance ; for the dance of Thorn of Li/n, another variation of Thomalin, likewise occurs in the same performance. Like every po- pular subject, it seems to have been frequently parodied : and a burlesque ballad, beginning '* Tom o' the lin was a Scotsman born," is still well known. 225 In a medley, contained in a curious and ancient MS. cantus, penes J. G. Dalyell, Esq. there is an allusion to our ballad : " Sing young Thomlin, be merry, be merry, and twice so merry." In Scotisk Songs, 1774, a part of the original tale was published, under the title of Kerton ha ; a corrup- tion of Carterhaugh ; and, in the same collection, there is a fragment, containing two or three additional verses, beginning " I'll wager, I'll wager, I'll wager with you," &c. In Johnson's Musical Museum a more complete copy occurs, under the title of Thorn Linn, which, with some alterations, was re-printed in the Tales of Wonder. The present edition is the most perfect which has yet appeared ; being prepared from a collation of the print- ed copies, with a very accurate one in Glenriddell's MS. and with several recitals from tradition. In one recital only, the well known fragment of the Wee Wee Man was introduced, in the same measure with the rest of the poem. It seemed to be inserted with considera- ble propriety, and is therefore retained in this edition. The fragment of the Wee Wee Man, tirst pubhshed in Scots Ballads, 176'4, was obtained in Ayrshire. Mr RiTSON derives its origin from an ancient poem of the time of Edward I. or II. extant in the Museum, Vol. II P 226 Carterhaugh is a plain, at the conflux of the Ettrick and Yarrow, in Selkirkshire, about a mile above Selkirk, and two miles below Newark Castle ; a romantic ruin, which overhangs the Yarrow, and which, we may suppose, was the habitation of our heroine's father. The peasants point out, upon the plain, those electrical rings, which vulgar credulity supposes to be traces of the fairy revels. Here, they say, were placed the stands of milk, and of water, in which Tamlane was dipped, in order to effect the disenchantment ; and ijpon these spots, according to their mode of expressing themselves, the grass will never grow. In no part of Scotland, indeed, has the belief in fairies maintained its ground with more pertinacity than in Selkirkshire. The most sceptical among the lower ranks only venture to assert, that their appearances, and mischievous exploits, have ceased, or at least become in- frequent, since the light of the Gospel was diffused in its purity. One of their frolicks is said to have happened late in the last century. The victim of elfin sport was a poor man, who, being employed in puUing heather upon Peatlaw, a hill not far from Carterhaugh, had tired of his labour, and laid him down to sleep upon a fairy ring. When he awakened, he was surprised to find himself in the midst of a populous city, to which, as well as to the means of his transportation, he was an utter stranger. His coat was left upon the Peatlaw ; and his bonnet, which had fallen off in the course -of his aerial journey, was af- terwards found hanging upon the steeple of the church 227 of Lanark. The distress of the poor man was in some degree relieved, by meeting a carrier whom he had for- merly known, and who conducted him back to Selkirk by a slower conveyance than had whirled him to Glas- gow. That he had been carried oflF by the fairies, was implicitly believed by all who did not reflect, that a man may have private reasons for leaving his own country, and for disguising his having intentionally done so. P 2 228 THE YOUNG TAMLANE. O I forbid ye, maidens a'. That wear gowd on your hair. To come or gae by Carterhaugh ; For young Tamlane is there. There's nane, that gaes by Carterhaugh, But maun leave him a wad ; Either goud rings, or green mantles. Or else their maidenheid. But up then spake her, fair Janet, The fairest o' a' her kin ; " I'll come and gang to Carterhaugh, And ask nae leave o' him." 229 Janet has kilted her green kirtle *, A httle aboon her knee ; And she has braided her yellow hair, A little aboon her bree. And she's away to Carterhaugh, And gaed beside the wood ; And there was sleeping young Tamlane, And his steed beside him stood. She pu'd the broom flower frae the bush, And strewed it on's white hause bane; And that was to be a witter -f- true. That maiden she had gane. " O where was ye, my milk white steed. That I did love sae dear, That wadna watch, and waken me. When there was maiden here ?" * The ladies are always represented in Dunbar's Poems, with green mantles and yellowhair. Maitland Poums, VoL. i. P. 45. f ^fr. .Token. " Some say there came four men, upon four ' horses, riding to the field with four spears, and a wisp on every spear " head, to be a sign and a witter to them that every one of them should '* know the other. Pitscottie, Ed. 1728, />. 117. P 3 230 '' I stamped wi' my foot, master, I gar'd my bridle ring; But no kin' thing would waken ye. Till she was past and gane." " And wae betide ye, my gray goshawk. That I did love sae well ; That wadna watch, and waken me. When my love was here hersell !" " I clapped wi' my wings, master, And ay my bells I rang ; And ay cried, " waken, waken, master. Afore your true love gang." " But haste, and haste, my good white steed To come the maiden till ; Or a' the birds, in good green wood, O' your flesh shall hae their fill." " Ye needna burst your good white steed, By running o'er the howm ; Nae hare runs swifter o'er the lea, Nor your love ran thro' the broom." 231 Fair Janet, in her green cleiding. Returned upon the morn ; And she met her father's ae brother. The laird of Abercorn. " I'll wager/ I'll wager, I'll wager vvi' you. Five hunder merk and ten, I'll maiden gang to Carterhaugh, And maiden come again. "^ She princked hersell, and prin'd hersell. By the ae light of the moon ; And she's away to Carterhaugh, As fast as she could win . And whan she cam to Carterhaugh, She gaed beside the wall; And there she fand his steed standing, But away was himsell. She hadna pu'd a red red rose, A rose but barely three. Till up and starts a wee wee man, At Lady Janet's knee. P i 232 Says " Why pu' ye the rose, Janet ? What gars ye break the tree ? Or why come ye to Carterhaugh, Withoutten leave o' me !" Says " Carterhaugh it is mine ain ; My daddie gave it me ; I'll come and gang to Carterhaugh, And ask nae leave o' thee." He's ta'en her by the milk-white hand. And by the grass-green sleeve ; He's led her to the Fairy ground, And spier'd at her nae leave. When she came to her father's ha'. She looked pale and wan; They thought she'd dried some sair sickness. Or been wi' some leman. She didna comb her yellow hair. Nor make meikle o' her heid ; And ilka thing, that lady took. Was like to be her deid. 233 Its four and twenty ladies fair Were in her father's ha' ; Whan in there came the fair J anet. The flower amang them a'. Four and twenty ladies fair Were playing at the chess; And out there came the fair Janet, As green as any grass. Out and spake an auld gray-headed knight,, Lay o'er the castle wa' " And ever alas! for thee, Janet, But we'll be blamed a'. " " Now had your tongue, ye auld gray knight! And an ill deid may ye die ! Father my bairn on whom I will, I'll father nane on thee." Out then spake her father dear. And he spoke meek and mild " And ever alas ! my sweet J anet, 1 fear ye gae with child." 234 " And if I be with child, father, Mysell maun bear the blame ; There's ne'er a knight, about your ha'. Shall hae the bairnie's name. " If my love were an earthly knight. As he's an elfin grey, I wadna gie my ain true love For nae lord that ye hae." " Is it to a man o' might, Janet, Or is it to a man o' mean ? Or is it unto young Tamlane, That's wi' the Fairies gane ?" " Twas down by Carterhaugh, father, I walked beside the wa ; And there I saw a wee wee man. The least that e'er I saw. " His legs were skant a shathmont * lang. Yet umber was his thie ; Between his brows there was ae span. And between his shoulders, thrie. * 5/4flMo^ The length of the hand, when clenched, with the thumb erect. 235 ' *' He's ta'en and flung a meikle stane. As far as I could see ; I could na, had I been Wallace wight, Hae lifted it to my knee. " O wee wee man, but ye be Strang ! Where may thy dwelling be ?" " Its down beside yon bonny bower ; Fair lady, come and see." " On we lap, and away we rade, Down to a bonny green ; We lighted down to bait our steed. And we saw the Fairy Queen. *^ With four and twenty at her back, Of ladies clad in green ; Tho' the King of Scotland had been there, The worst might hae been his Queen. ^' On we lap, and away we rade, Down to a bonny ha' ; The roof was o' the beaten goud. The floor was of chrystal a'. 236 " And there were dancing on the floor, . Fair ladies jimp and sma' ; But, in the twinkhng o' an eye. They sainted* clean awa'. " And, in the twinkling of an eye. The wee wee man was gane ; And he says, gin he binna won by me. He'll ne'er be won by nane." Janet's put on her green cleiding, Whan near nine months were gane ; And she's awa to Carterhaugh, To speak wi' young Tamlane. And when she came to Carterhaugh, She gaed beside the wall; And there she saw the steed standing, But away was himsell. She hadna pu'd a double rose, A rose but only twae. When up and started young Tamlane, Says " Lady, thou pu's nae mae ! Sainted. Yinhhc for himself and his heirs, conveys to the convent of the Trinity of Soltre, the tenement which he possessed by inheritance (hereditarie) in Ercildoun, with all claim which he, or his predecessors, could preteud thereto. From this we may infer that the Rhymer was now dead ; since we find his son disposing of the family property. Still, however, the argument of the learned historian will remain unimpeached, as to the time of the poet's birth. For if, as we learn from Bar- bour, his prophecies were held in reputation * as early as * The lines alliidcci to are these : I hope that Tomas's pro])hesie, Of Eiceldoun, shall truly be in him, &c. 247 1306, when Bruce slew the Red Cummin, the sanc- tity, ami (let me add to Mr Pinkerton's words) the uncertainty, of antiquity, must have already involved his character and writings. In a charter of Peter de Haga de Bemersyde, which unfortunately wants a date, the Rhymer, a near neighbour, and, if we may trust tradition, a friend of the family, appears as a wit- ness. Cartulary of Melrose. It cannot be doubted, that Thomas of Erceldoune was a remarkable and important person in his own time, since, very shortly after his death, we find him celebrated as a prophet, and as a poet. Whether he himself made any pretensions to the first of these characters, or whe- ther it was gratuitously conferred upon him by the cre- dulity of posterity, it seems difficult to decide. If we may believe Mackenzie, Lea kmont only versified the prophecies delivered by Eliza, an inspired nun, of a convent at Haddington. But of this there seems not to be the most distant proof. On the contrary, all ancient authors, who quote the Rhymer's prophecies, uniformly suppose them to have been emitted by himself. Thus, in Wintown's Chronicle., Of this fycht quiluni spak Thomas Of Eisyldoune, that suyd in Dernc, Thure suki mt-it stalwaitly, starke, and sterne. He sayd it in his prophecy j But how he wyst it was fer/y. Book eight, chap. 32. Q 4 248 There could have been noferly (marvel), in Wintowk's eyes at least, how Thomas came by his knowledge of future events, had he ever heard of the inspired nun of Haddington; which, it cannot be doubted, would have been a solution of the mystery, much to the taste of the Prior of Lochlevin *. Whatever doubts, however, the learned might have, as to the source of the Rhymer's prophetic skill, the vulgar had no hesitation to ascribe the whole to the intercourse between the bard and the Queen of Fairy. The popular tale bears, that Thomas was carried off, at an early age, to the Fairy Land, where he acquired all the knowledge which made him afterwards so famous. After seven years residence he was permitted to return to the earth, to en- lighten and astonish his countrymen by his prophetic powers ; still, however, remaining bound to return to his Henry, the minstrel, who introduces Thomas into the history of Wallace, expresses the same doubt as to the soiiive of Iiis pro- phetic knowledge. Thomas Rhymer into the Faile was than With the minister, which was a worthy man. He used oft to that religious pl::ce ; Tlie people deemed of wit he nieikle ran, And so he told, though that they bless or ban. Which happened sooth in inany divers case j I cannot say by wrong or righteousness. In rule of war whether they tint or wan : It may be deemed by division of grace, &c. History of IValhiie, Book second. 249 royal mistress, when she should intimate her pleasure*. Accordingly, while Thomas was making merry with hii friends in the tower of Erceldoune, a person came run- ning in, and told, with marks of fear and astonishment, that a hart and hind had left the neighbouring forest, and were, composedly and slowly, parading the street of the village. The prophet instantly arose, left his habitation, and followed the wonderful animals to the forest, whence he was never seen to return. According to the popular belief, he still " drees his weird" in Fairy Land, and is one day expected to revisit earth. In the mean while, his rnemory is held in the most profound respect. The Eildon Tree, from beneath the shade of which he deliver- ed his prophecies, now no longer exists ; but the spot is marked by a large stone, called Eildon Tree Stone. A neighbouring rivulet takes the name of the Bogle Burn, (Goblin Brook) from the Rhymer's supernatural visi- tants. The veneration, paid to his dwelling place, even attached itself in some degree to a person, who, within the memory of man, chose to set up his residence in the ruins of Learmo"nt's tower. The name of tliis man was Murray; a kind of herbalist, who, by dint of some knowledge in simples, the possession of a musical clock, an electrical machine, and a stuffed alligator, added to a supposed communication with Thomas ihe llliynnM-, lived for many years in very good credit as a wi//;ard. * See the diiseitation on falri. s, prefixed to Tamlan:, p. zj<). 250 It seemed to the editor unpardonable to dismiss a per- son so important in border tradition as the Rhymer, without some farther notice than a simple commentary upon the following ballad. It is given from a copy ob- tained from a lady, residing not far from Ercddoune, corrected and enlarged by one in Mrs Brown's MS. The former copy, however, as might be expected, is far more minute as to local description *. To this old tale the editor has ventured to add a second part, consisting of a kind of Cento, from the printed prophecies vulgarly ascribed to the Rhymer ; and a third part, entirely mo-' dern, founded upon the tradition of his having returned, with the hart and hind, to the Land of Faery. To make his peace with the more severe antiquaries, the editor has prefixed to the second part some remarks on Lear- mont's prophecies. * The editor has been since informed by a most eminent antiquary, that there is in txisttnce a MS. copy of this ballad of very considerable anti- quity, of which he hopes to avail himself on some future occasion. 251 THOMAS THE RHYMER. PART FIRST. ANCIENT NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank : A ferlie he spied wi' his ee ; And there he saw a lady bright. Come riding down by the Eildon Tree. Her shirt was o' the grass green silk. Her mantle o' the velvet tyne ; At ilka tett of her horse's mane, Hang fifty siller bells and nine. S52 True Thomas, he pull'd afF his cap. And louted low down to his knee " All hail, thou mighty Queen of Heav'n ? For thy peer on earth I never did see." " O no, O no, Thomas," she said ; *' That name does not belang to me ; I am but the Queen of fair Elfland, That am hither come to visit thee. '^ Harp and carp, Thomas," she said ; " Harp and carp along wi' me : And if ye dare to kiss my lips. Sure of your bodie I will be." " Betide me weal, betide me woe. That weird* shall never danton me." Syne he has kissed her rosy lips. All underneath the Eildon Tree. " Now, ye maun go wi' me," she said ; " True Thomas, ye maun go wi' me : And yc maun serve me seven years. Thro' weal or woe as may chance to be." TJiat "werrd, ^<'. That (.lestiny shall nev^r fri^jht-.n mi; 253 She mounted on her milk-white steed ; She's ta'en true Thomas up behind ; And aye, whene'er her bridle rung. The steed flew swifter than the wind. O they rade on, and further on ; The steed gaed swifter than the wind ; Untill they reached a desart wide. And livina: land was left behind. '' Light down, light down, now, true Thomas, And lean your head upon my knee : Abide and rest a little space, And I will shew you ferlies three. " O see ye not yon narrow road. So thick beset wi' thorns and briers ? That is the path of righteousness, Tho' after it but few enquires. " And see not ye that braid braid road. That lies across that lily levcn ? That is tlie path of w ickedness, Tho' some call it the road to heaven. 254 " And see not ye that bonny road. That winds about the fernie brae ? That is the road to fair Elfland, Where thou and 1 this night maun gae. '^ But, Thomas, ye maun hold your tongue. Whatever ye may hear or see ; For, if you speak word in Elflyn land, Ye'll ne'er get back to your ain countrie."- O they rade on, and farther on. And they waded thro' rivers aboon the knee ; And they saw neither sun nor moon. But they heard the roaring of the sea. It was mirk mirk night, and there was nae stern light, And they waded thro' red blude to the knee ; For a' the blude that's shed on earth, Rins thro' the springs o' that countrie. Syne they came on to a garden green. And she pu'd an apple frae a tree " Take this for thy wages, true Thomas ; It will give the tongue that can never lie." 255 " My tongue is mine ain," true Thomas said ; " A gudely gift ye wad gie to me I 1 neither dought to buy nor sell. At fair or tryst where I may be. '' 1 dought neither speak to prince or peer. Nor ask of grace from fair ladye." " Now hold thy peace !" the lady said, '' For, as I say, so must it be." He has gotten a cloth of the even cloth. And a pair of shoes of velvet green ; And, till seven years were gane and past. True Thomas on earth was never seen. 9,56 NOTE THOMAS THE RHYMER. PART FIRST. She pu'd an apple frae a tree. P. 254, Verse 5. The traditional commentary upon this ballad informs us, that the ai)ple was the produce of the fatal Tree of Knowledge, and that the garden was the terrestrial paradise. The repugnance of Thomas to be debar- red the use of falsehood, when he should find it convenient, has a comic effect. 257 THOMAS THE RHYMER. PART SECOND. NEVEE BEFORE PUBLISHED ALTERED TROM ANCIENX ' PROPHECIES. The prophecies ascribed to Thomas of Erceldoune have been the principal means of securing to him remem- brance " amongst the sons of his people." The author of Sir Tristrein would long ago have joined, in the vale of oblivion, " Clerk of Tranent, who wrote the adven- tures of Schir Gawaine," if, by good hap, the same cur- rent of ideas respecting antiquity, which causes Virgil to be regarded as a magician by tlie Lazaroni of Naples, had not exalted the bard of Erceldoune to the pro- phetic character. Perhaps, indeed, he himself affected it during his life. We know at least for certain, that a ])elicf in his supernatural knowledge was current soon af- VoL. II. R 258 ter his death. His prophecies are alluded to by Bar- bour, by WiNTOUN, and by Henry, the minstrel; or Blind Harry, as he is usually termed. None of these authors, however, give the words of any of the Rhymer's vaticinations, but merely narrate historically his having predicted the events of which they speak. The earliest of the prophecies ascribed to him, which is now extant, is quoted by Mr Pinkerton from a MS. It is suppo- sed to be a response from Thomas of Erceldoune, to a question from the heroic Countess of March, renowned for the defence of the castle of Dunbar against the Eng- lish, and termed, in the familiar dialect of her time. Black Agnes of Dunbar. This prophecy is remarkable, in so far as it bears very little resemblance to any verses pub- lished in the printed copy of the Rhymer's supposed pro- phecies. The verses are as follows : " La Countesse de Donbar demande a Thomas de Esse- doune quant la guerre d'Escoce preiidreit Jyn. E yl I'a re- poundy et dyt. " When man is mad a kyng of a capped man ; When man is levere other mones thyng than is owen ; When londe thouys forest, ant forest is feldc j When hares kendles o' the herston ; When Wyt and Wille werres togedere ; When mon makes stables of kyrkes 3 and steles castles with styes j When Rokesboroughe nys no burgh ant market is at Forwyleye ; When Bam'bourne is donged with dede men j When men ledes men in ropes to buyen and to sellen ; When a quarter of whaty whete is chaunged for a colt of ten markes j When prude (pride) prikes and pees is leyd in prisoun j ^59 When a Scot ne may hym hude ase hare In forme that the English ne shall him fynde ; When rycht ant wronge astente the togedere ; When laddes weddeth lovedies ; When Scottes flen so faste, that for faute of shep, hy drowneth hem- selve ; When shal this be ? Nouther in thine tyme ne in mine j Ah comen ant gone Withinne twenty winter ant one." PiNKERTON's Poemi, from Maitland's MS. quoting from Harl. Lib. 2253, F. 127. As I have never seen the MS. from which Mr Pin- KERTON makes this extract, and as the date of it is fix- ed by him (certainly one of the most able antiquaries of our age), to the reign of Edward I. or II. it is with great diffidence that I hazard a contrary opinion. There can, however, I believe, be little doubt that these pro- phetic verses are a forgery, and not the production of our Thomas the Rhymer. But I am inclined to believe them of a later date than the reign of Edward I. or II. The gallant defence of the castle of Dunbar, by Black Agnes, took place in the year 1337. The Rhymer died previous to the year 1299 (see the charter by his son in the introduction to the foregoing ballad). It seems, therefore, very improbable, that the Countess of Dun- UAR could ever have an opportunity of consulting Thomas the Rhymer, since that would infer that she was married, or at least engaged in state matters, pre- vious to 1299; whereas she is described as a young, or R 2 260 a middle aged, woman, at the period of her being be- sieged in the fortress which she so well defended. If the editor might indulge a conjecture, he would suppose, that the prophecy was contrived for the encouragement of the English invaders, during the Scotish wars ; and that the names of the Countess of Dunbar, and of Thomas of Erceldoun, were used for the greater credit of the forgery. According to this hypothesis, it seems likely to have been composed after the siege of Dunbar, which had made the name of the Countess well known, and consequently in the reign of Edward III. The whole tendency of the prophecy is to aver, that there shall be no end of the Scotish war (concerning which the question was proposed) till a final conquest of the country by England, attended by all the usual severities of war. When the cultivated country shall become forest says the prophecy; when the wild animals shall inhabit the abode of men ; when Scots shall not be able to escape the English, should they crouch as hares in their form all these denunciations seem to refer to the time of Ed- ward III. upon whose victories the prediction was pro- bably founded. The mention of the exchange betwixt a colt worth ten markes, and a quarter of " whaty (indiffe- rent) wheat," seems to allude to the dreadful famine a- boutthe year 1388. The independence of Scotland was, however, as impregnable to the mines of superstition, as to the steel of our more powerful and more wealthy neigh- bours. The war of Scotland is, thank God, at an end ; Q61 but it is ended without her people having either crouch- ed, like hares, in their form, or being drowned in their flight, for " faute of ships" thank God for that too. A minute search of the records of the time would, pro- bably, throw additional light upon the allusions contain- ed in this ancient legend. Among various rhymes of prophetic import, which are at this day current amongst the people of Teviotdale, is one, supposed to be pro- nounced by Thomas the Rhymer, presaging the destruc- tion of his habitation and family : .The hare sail kittle (litter) on my hearth stane, And there will never be a laird Learmont again. The first of these lines is obviously borrowed from that in the MS. of the Harl. Library. " When hares kendlcs o' the her'stane" an emphatic image of desolation. It is also inaccurately quoted in the prophecy of Wald- HAVE, published by Andro Hart, l6l3. ' This is a true talking that Thomas of tells The hare shall hirple on the haid (hearth) stanes" Spottiswoode, an honest, but credulous historian, seems to have been a firm believer in the authenticity of the prophetic wares, vended in the name of Thomas of Krceldoune. " The prophecies, yet extant in Scot- " tish rhymes, whereupon he was commonly called Tho' " tnas the Rhymer, may justly be admired; having fore- " told, so many ages before, the Union of England and R 3 262 " Scotland in the ninth degree of the Bruce's blood, with " the succession of Bruce himself to the crown, being yet " a child, and other divers particulars which the event hath " ratified and made good. Boethius, in his story, rela- " teth his prediction of King Alexander's death, and " that he did foretell the same to the Earl of March, the *' day before it fell out ; saying, " That before the next " day at noon, such a tempest should blow, as Scotland " had not felt for many years before." The next morn- " ing, the day being clear, and no change appearing in " the air, the nobleman did challenge Thomas of his " saying, calhng him an impostor. He replied, that noon " was not yet passed. About which time, a post came *' to advertise the Earl, of the King his sudden death. *' ^Then, said Thomas, this is the tempest I foretold; " and so it shall prove to Scotland." Whence or how " he had this knowledge, can hardly be affirmed ; but " sure it is that he did divine and answer truly of many " things to come." Spottisivoodc, p. 47. Besides that notable voucher. Master Hector Boece, the good arch- bishop might, had he been so minded, have referred to FoRDUN for the prophecy of King Alexander's death. That historian calls our bard, " ruralis illc votes" For- DUN, lib. 10, c. 40. What Spottiswoode calls '* the prophecies extant in Scottish rhyme," are the metrical predictions ascribed to the prophet of Erceldoune, which, with many other com- 263 positions of the same nature, bearing the names of Bede, Merlin, Gildas, and other approved soothsayers, are contained in one small volume, published by An dug Hart, at Edinburgh, l6l5. The late excellent Lord Hailes made these compositions the subject of a disser- tation, published in his Remarks on the History of Scot- land. His attention is chiefly directed to the celebrated prophecy of our bard, mentioned by bishop Spottis- wooDE, bearing, that the crowns of England and Scot- land should be united in the person of a King, son of a French Queen, and related to Bruce in the ninth degree. Lord Hailes plainly proves, that this prophecy is per- verted from its original purpose, in order to apply it to the succession of James VL The ground work of the forgery is to be found in the prophecies of Berlington, contained in the same collection, and runs thus : Of Bruce's left side shall sjiring out a leafe, As near as the ninth degree ; And shall be flemed of fair Scotland, 111 France far beyond the sea. And then shall come again riding, With eyes that many men may see ; At Aberlacty he shall light, With htmpen heltres and horse of tree. However it hajjpen for to fall. The lion shal lie lord of all ; The French wife shall bear the son. Shall wield all Britain to the sea ; And from the Bruce's blood shall come. As near as the ninth degree. R 4- 264 Yet shall there come a kene knight over the salt sea, A kene man of courage and bold man of arms j A duke's son doubled (L e. dubbed) a born man in France, That shall our mirths amend, and mend all our harms, After the date of our Lord 1513, an'l thrice three thereafter j Which shall brook all the broaO isle to himself. Between 13 ana thrice three the threap sail be ended. The Saxons sail never recover thereafter. There cannot be any doubt that this prophecy was in- tended to excite the confidence of the Scotish nation in the Duke of Albany, regent of Scotland, who arrived from France in 1515, two years after the death of James IV. in the fatal bartle of Flodden. The regent was des- cended of Bruce by the left, i. e. by the female side, within the ninth degree. His mother was daughter of the Earl of Boulogne, his father banished from his country " fleemit of fair Scotland." His arrival must necessarily be by sea, and his landing was expected at Aberlady, in the Firth of Forth. He was a Duke's son, dubbed Knight; and nine years, from 1513, are allowed him by the pretended prophet, for the accomplishment of the salvation of his country, and the exaltation of Scotland over her sister and rival. All this was a pious fraud, to excite the confidence and spirit of the country. The prophecy, put in the name of our Thomas the Rhymer, as it stands in Hart's book, refers to a later period. 1 he narrator meets the Rhymer upon aland, beside a lee, who shews him many emblematical visions. ^65 described iii no mean strain of poetry. They chiefly re- late to the fields of Flodden and Pinkie, to the national distress which followed these defeats, and to future hal- cyon days which are promised to Scotland. One quota- tion or two will be sufficient to establish this fully. Our Scotish king sal come fill keen, The red lion beareth he j A fedder'd arrow sharp, I ween, Shall make him wink and warre to see. Out of the field he shall be led. When he is bloody and wo for blood j Yet to his men then shall he say, ** For God's love, turn you again. And give yon southern folk a fray ! Why should I lose ? the right is mine : My date is not to die this day." Who can doubt for a moment that this refers to the battle of Flodden, and to the popular reports concerning the doubtful fate of James IV. Allusion is immediate- ly afterwards made to the death of George Douglas, heir apparent of Angus, who fought and fell with his so- vereign. The sternes three that day shall die That bears the harte in silver sheen. The well known arms of the Douglas family are the Jieart and three stars. In anotherplace the battle of Pin- kie is expressly mentioned by name : At Pinken Cleuch there shall be spilt. Much gentle blood th^ day ; There shall the bear lose the gylte. And the eagle bear it away. Q66 To the end of all this allegorical and mystical rhapsody, is interpolated, in the later edition by Andro Hart, a new edition of Berlington's verses before quoted, al- tered and manufactured so as to bear reference to the ac- cession of James VI. which had just then taken place. The insertion is made, with a peculiar degree of awkward- ness, betwixt a question put by the narrator, concerning the name and abode of the person who shewed him these strange matters, and the answer of the prophet to that question. " Then to the Beirn I could say. Where dwellest thou, in what country ? [Or who shall rule the isle Britain, From the north to the south sea ? The French wife shall bear the son, Shall rule all Britain to the sea ; Which of the Bruce's blood shall come, As near as the ninth degree : I framed fast what was his name, Whence that he came in what country.] At Erslington I dwell at hame, Thomas Rymer men call me." There is surely no one who will not conclude, with Lord Hailes, that the eight lines, inclosed in brackets, are a clumsy interpolation, borrowed from Berlikgton, with such alterations as might render the supposed pro- phecy applicable to the union of the crowns. While we are on this subject, it may be proper briefly to notice the scope of some of the other predictions, in 267 Hart's collection. As the prophecy of Berlingtov was intended to raise the spirits of the nation, during the regency of Albany, so those of Sybilla and El- TRAiNE refer to that of the Earl of Arran, afterwards Duke of Chatelherault, during the minority of Mart, a period of similar calamity. This is obvious from the following verses : Take a thousand in calculation, And the longest of the lyon. With Saint Andrew's crosse thrice. Then threescore and thrice three : Take held to Merling truly, Then shall the wars ended be. And never again rise. In that year there shall be a king, A duke, and no crowned king ; Because the prince shall be young. And tender of years. The date, above hinted at, seems to be 154.9, when the Scotish regent, by means of some succours derived from France, was endeavouring to repair the consequences of the fatal battle of Pinkie. Allusion is made to the supply given to the " Moldwarte (England) by the fained harte," (the Earl of Ancujs). The regent is described by his bear- ing the antelope ; large supplies arc promised from France, and compleat conquest predicted to Scotland and her allies. Thus was the same hackneyed stratagem lepcat- ed, whenever the interest of the rulers appeared to stand in need of it. The regent was not, indeed, till after this period, created Duke of Chatelherault ; but that honour was the object of his hopes and expectations. 268 The name of our renowned soothsayer is liberally used as an authority, throughout all the prophecies published by Andro Hart. Besides those expressly put in his name, Gildas, another assumed personage, is supposed to derive his knowledge from him; for he concludes thus : ** True Thomas told me in a troublesome time In a harvest morning at Eldom (Eildon) hills." The Prophecy of Gtldas. In the prophecy of Berlington, already quoted, we are told " Marvellous Merling, that many. men of tells. And Thomas's sayings comes all at once." While I am upon the subject of these prophecies, may I be permitted to call the attention of antiquaries to Merdwynn Wyllt, or Merlin the Wild, in whose name, and by no means in that of Ambrose Merlin, the friend of Arth or, the Scotish prophecies are issued. That this personage resided at Drummelziar, and roamed, like a second Nebuchadnezzar, the woods of Tweed- dale, in remorse for tlie death of his nephew, we learn from For DUN. In the Scotic/ironicoji, Lib. 3, cap. 31, is an account of an interview betwixt .St Kentigern and Merlin, then in this distracted and miserable state. He is said to have been called Lailoken from his mode of life. On being commanded by the Saint to give an ac- count of himself, he says, that the penance which he per- 269 forms was imposed on him by a voice from heaven, du- ring a bloody contest betwixt Lidel and Carwanolow, of which battle he had been the cause. According to his own prediction, he perished at once by wood, earth, and water ; for, being pursued with stones by the rustics, he fell from a rock into the river Tweed, and was trans- fixed by a sharp stake, fixed there for the purpose of ex- tending a fishing net. Sude perfossus, lapide percussus et unda Haec tria Merlinum fertur inire necem. Ford UN, contrary to the Welch authorities, con- founds this person with the Merlin of Arthur; but concludes by informing us, that many believed him to be a different person. The grave of Merlin is pointed out at Drummelzear, in Tweeddale, beneath an aged thorn tree. On the east side of the church-yard, the brook called Pausayi falls into the Tweed; and the fol- lowing prophecy is said to have been current concerning their union : When Tweed and Pausayi join at Merlin's grave, Scotland and England shall one Monarch have. On the day of the coronation of James VI. the Tweed accordingly overflowed, and joined tlie Pausayi at the prophet's grave. Pennycuik's Ilistury of TxvecddaU; p. 26. These circumstances would seem to infer a com- munication betwixt the south-west of Scotland and Wales, of a nature peculiarly intimate ; for I presume 270 that Merlin would retain sense enough to chuse for the scene of his wanderings, a country having a language and manners similar to his own. Be this as it may, the memory of Merlin Sylves- ter, or the Wild, was fresh among the Scots during the reign of James V. Waldhave*, under whose name a set of prophecies was published, describes himself as ly- ing upon Lomond Law ; he hears a voice which bids him stand to his defence ; he looks around, and beholds a flock of hares and foxes pursued over the mountain by a savage figure, to whom he can hardly give the name of man. At the sight of Waldhave, the apparition leaves the objects of his pursuit, and assaults him with a club, Waldhave defends himself with his sword, throws the savage to the earth, and refuses to let him arise till he swear by the law and lead he lives upon, " to do him no harm." This done, he permits him to arise, and mar- vels at his strange appearance. <' He was formed like a freak (man) all his four quarters ; And then his chin and his face haired so thick. With growing so grim hair, fearful to see." He answers briefly to Waldh ave's enquiry, concerning his name and nature, that he " drees his weird," i. e. does penance, in that wood ; and, having hinted that questions as to his own state are oft'ensive, he pours forth * I do not know whether the person here meant, be Waldhave, an abbot of Melrose, who died in the odour of sanctity, about ii6o. 271 an obscure rhapsody, concerning futurity, and con- cludes, <* Go musing upon Merling if thou wilt ; For I mean no more man at this time." This is exactly similar to the meeting betwixt Merlin and Kentigern in Fordun. These prophecies of Merlin seem to have been in request in the minority of James V, ; for, among the amusements with which Sir David Lindsay diverted that prince during his infan- cy, are The prophecies of Rymer, Bede, and Merlin. Sir D. Lindsay's Epistle to the King. And we find, in Waldhave, at least one allusion to the very ancient prophecy addressed to the Countess of Dunbar : This is a true token that Thomas of tells. When a ladde with a ladye shall go over the fields. The original stands thus : When laddcs weddeth lovcdies. Another prophecy of Mkrlin, reported by Wald- have, seems to have been current about the time of the regent Morton's execution. AVhi-n that nobleman was committed to the charge of his accuser, Captain James Stewart, newly created Earl of Arran, to be conducted to his trial at Edinburgh, Spottiswoode 27^ says that he asked " Who was Earl of Arran ?" and " being answered that Captain James was the man; af- " ter a short pause, he said, " And is it so ? I know then " what I may look for \" meaning, as was thought, that " the old prophecy of the * Falling of the heart* by the " mouth of Arrak,' should then be fulfilled. Whe- " ther this was his mind or not, it is not known ; but " some spared not, at the time when the Hamiltons " were banished, in which business he was held too ear- " nest, to say, that he stood in fear of that prediction, " and went that course only to disappoint it. But, if so " it was, he did find himself now deluded ; for he fell by " the mouth of another Arran than he imagined." Spottiswoode, 313. Something like the fatal words alluded to, is to be found in Waldhave ; *' When the mouth of Arran the top hath overturned." To return from these desultory remarks, into which the editor has been led by the celebrated name of Merlin, the stile of all these prophecies, published by Hart, is very much the same. The measure is alliterative, and somewhat similar to that of Pierce Plowman's vi- sions ; a circumstance which might entitle us to ascribe to some of them an earlier date than the reign of James V. did we not know that Sir Galoran of Galloway, and Gawaine and Gologras, two romances rendered almost unintelligible by the extremity of affected alliteration. The heart was the cognisance of Morton. 273 are not prior to that period. Indeed, although we may allow, that, during much earlier times, prophecies, under the names of those celebrated soothsayers, have been current in Scotland, yet those published by HaRte have obviously been so often vamped and re-vamped, to serve the political purposes of different periods, that it may be shrewdly suspected , that, as i n the case ofSirJonNCux- ler's transmigrated stockings, very little of the original materials now remains. I cannot refrain from indulging my readers with the publisher's title to the last prophecy ; as it contains certain curious information concerning the Queen of Sheba, who is identified with the Cumaean Sybil. " Here followeth a prophecie, pionounced by " a noble queen and matron, called Sybilla, Regina " Austri, that came to Solomon. Through the which " she composed four books at the instance of the said " King Solomon and others: and the fourth book was " directed to a noble king, called Baldwin, king of " the broad isle of Britain. Of the which she maketh " mention of two noble princes and emperors, the which " is called Liones. Of these, two shall subdue and " overcome all earthly princes to their diadem and " crown, and also be glorified and crowned in heaven " among saints. The first of these two is Constan- *' TiNUS Magnus; that was Leprosus, the son of " Saint Helen, that found the crossc. The second is " the sixth king of the name of the Stewart of Scot- " land, the which is our most noble king." With such Vol. n S 274 editors and commentators, what wonder that the text be- came unintelligible, even beyond the usual oracular ob- scurity of prediction ? If there still remain, therefore, among these predic- tions, any verses having a claim to real antiquity, it seems now impossible to discover them from those which are cornparatively modern. Nevertheless, as there are to be found in these compositions some uncommonly wild and masculine expressions, the editor has been in- duced to throw a few passages together, into the sort -of ballad to which this disquisition is prefixed. It would indeed have been no difficult matter for him, by a judi- cious selection, to have excited, in favour of Thomas of Erceldoune, a share of the admiration bestowed by sundry wise persons upon Mass Robert Fleming. For example : " But then the lilye shal be loused when they least think ; Then clear king's blood shal quake for fear of death j Foi Churls shal chop off heads of their chief beirns. And carfe of the crowns that Christ hath appointed. Thereafter on every side sorrow shal arise j The barges of clear barons down shal be sunken j Seculars shal sit in spiritual seats, Occupying offices anointed as they were." Taking the lilye for the emblem of France, can there be a more plain prophecy of the murder of her monarch, the destruction of her nobility, and the desolation of her hierarchy ? Q75 But, without looking farther into the signs of the times, the editor, though the least of all the prophets, cannot help thinking, that every true Briton will approve of his application of the last prophecy quoted in the ballad. Harte's collection of prophecies has been frequently re-printed within the century, probably to favour the pre- tensions of the unfortunate family of Stewart. For the prophetic renown of Gildas and Bede, see FoR- DUN, lib. 3. Before leaving the subject of Thomas' predictions, it may be noticed, that sundry rhymes, passing for his pro- phetic effusions, are still current among the vulgar. Thus, he is said to have prophecied of the very ancient family of Haig of Bemerside, Betide, betide, whate'er betide, Haig shall be Haig of Bemerside. The grandfather of the present proprietor of Bemer- side had twelve daughters, before his lady brought him a male heir. The common people trembled for the credit of their favourite soothsayer. The late Mr Haig was at length born, and their belief in the prophecy confirm- ed beyond a shadow of doubt. Another memorable prophecy bore, that the Old Kirk S 2 276 at Kelso, constructed out of the ruins of the abbey, should fall when " at the fullest". At a very crowded sermon, about thirty years ago, a piece of lime fell from the roof of the church. The alarm, for the fulfillment of the words of the seer, became universal ; and happy were they who were nearest the door of the predestined edifice. The church was in consequence deserted, and has never since had an opportunity of tumbling upon a full congregation. I hope, for the sake of a beautiful speci- men of Saxo-Gothick architecture, that the accomplish- ment of this prophecy is far distant. Another prediction, ascribed to the Rhymer, seems to have been founded on that sort of insight into futurity, possessed by most men of a sound and combining judge- ment. It runs thus : At Eildon tree if you shall be, A brigg ower Tweed you there may see. The spot in question commands an extensive prospect of the course of the river; and it was easy to foresee, that, when the country should become in the least de- gree improved, a bridge would be somewhere thrown over the stream. In fact, you now see no less than three bridges from that elevated situation. CoRSPATRiCK (Comes Patrick) Earlof March, but ^17 more commonly taking his title from his castle of Dun- bar, acted a noted part during the wars of Edward I. in Scotland. As Thomas of Erceldoune is said to have delivered to him his famous prophecy of King Alex- ander's death, the editor has chosen to introthice him into the following ballad. All the prophetic verses are selected from Harte's publication. S 3 278 THOMAS THE RHYMER. PART SECOND. When seven years were come and gane. The sun blinked fair on pool and stream ; And Thomas lay on Huntlie bank. Like one awakened from a dream. He heard the trampling of a steed ; He saw the flash of armour flee ; And he beheld a gallant knight. Come riding down by the Eildon Tree. He was a stalwart knight, and strong ; Of giant make he 'peared to be : He stirr'd his horse, as he were wode, Wi' gilded spurs of fashioun free. 279 Says " Well met, well met, true Thomas ! Some uncouth ferlies shew to me." Says " Christ thee save, Corspatrick brave ! Thrice welcome, good Dunbar, to me. " Light down, light down, Corspatrick brave. And I will shew thee curses three ; Shall gar fair Scotland greet and grane. And change the green to the black livery. *' A storm shall roar, this very hour. From Rosse's Hills to Solway sea." " Ye lied, ye lied, ye warlock hoar ! For the sun shines sweet on fauld and lea."- He put his hand on the Earlie's head ; He shew'd him a rock, beside the sea. Where a king lay stiff, beneath his steed*. And steel-dight nobles wiped their ee. " The neist curse lights on Branxton hills : By Flodden's high and heathery side. Shall wave a banner, red as blude. And chieftains throng wi' meikle pride. * King Alexander j kilkcl by a fall from his horse near Kinghori S 4 280 " A Scotish king shall come full keen ; The ruddy lion beareth he : A feather'd arrow sharp, I ween. Shall make him wink and warre to see. " When he is bloody, and all to bledde. Thus to his men he still shall say " For God's sake, turn ye back again. And give yon southern folk a fray ! Why should I lose the right is mine ? My doom is not to die this day*." " Yet turn ye to the eastern hand. And woe and wonder ye sail see; How forty thousand spearmen stand. Where yon rank river meets the sea. '' There shall the lion lose the gylte. And the libbards bear it clean away ; At Pinkyn Clench there sail be spilt Much gentil blude that day." f * The uncertainty which long prevailed in Scotland concerning the fate ci James IV. is well known. 281 *' Enough, enough, of curse and ban ; Some blessing shew thou now to me ; Or, by the faith o' my bodie," Corspatrick said, " Ye sail rue the day ye e'er saw me !" - " The first of blessings I sail thee shew. Is by a burn, that's call'd of bread*; Where Saxon men shall tine the bow. And find their arrows lack the head. " Beside that brigg, out ower that burn. Where the water bickereth bright and sheen. Shall many a falling courser spurn. And knights shall die in battle keen. " Beside a headless cross of stone. The libbards there shall lose the gree ; The raven shall come, the erne shall go. And drink the Saxon blude sae free. The cross of stone they shall not know. So thick the corses there shall be." * One of Thomas's rhymes, ineseived by tradition, runs thii:, ; " The burn of brcid Sail run fow reid." Bannock-burn is the brook here meant. The Scots give the name of hantiGck to a thick round cake, of unleavened bread. 282 " But tell me now," said brave Dunbar, " Time Thomas, tell now unto me. What man shall rule the Isle Britain, Even from the north to the southern sea ?"- " A French Queen shall bear the son. Shall rule all Britain to the sea : He of the Bruce's blude shall come. As near as in the ninth degree. " The waters worship shall his race ; Likewise the waves of the farthest sea ; For they shall ride ower ocean wide. With hempen bridles, and horse of tree." 283 THOMAS THE RHYMER. FART THIRDMODERN. Thomas the Rhymer was renowned among his con- temporaries, as the author of the celebrated romance of Sir Tristrem. Of this once admired poem only one co- py is now known to exist, which is in the Advocates' Li- brary, The editor has undertaken the superintendance of a very limited edition of this curious work ; which, if it does not revive the reputation of tiic bard of Erceldoune, will be at least the earliest specimen of Scotish poetry hitherto published. Some account of this romance has already been given to the world in Mr Ellis' Specimens of Ancient Foetry, Vol. I. p. 16'.5, 3d. p. 410; a work, to which our predecessors and our posterity are alike obliged ; the former, for the pre- servation of the best selected examples of their poetical taste ; and the latter, for a history of the English Ian- 284 guage, which will only cease to be interesting with the existence of our mother tongue, and all that genius and learning have recorded in it. It is sufficient here to mention, that, so great was the reputation of the ro- mance of Sir Tristrem, that few were thought capable of reciting it after the manner of the author a circum- stance alluded to by Robert de Brunne, the annalist. I see in song, in sedgeyng tale, Of Erceldoun, and of Kendale. Now thame says as they thame wroght. And in thare saying it semes noght. That thou may here in Sir Tristrem, Over gestes it has the steme. Over all that is or was ; If men it said as made Thomas, &c. It appears from a very curious MS. of the 13th cen- tury, penes Mr Douce, of London, containing a French metrical romance of Sir Tristrem, that the work of our Thomas the Rhymer was known, and referred to, by the minstrels of Normandy and Bretagne. Having arrived at a part of the romance, where reciters were wont to differ in the mode of telling the story, the French bard express- ly cites the authority of the poet of Erceldoune. Plusurs de nos granter ne volent Co que del naim dire se solent Ki femme Kaherdin dut aimer Li naim redut Tristram narrer E entusche par grant engin Quant il afole Kaherdin Pur cest plaie e pur cest mal 285 Enveiad Tristran Guvernal En Engleterrc pur YsoU Thomas ico granter ne volt Et si volt par raisun mostrer Qu' k.o ne put pas esteer, &c. The tale of Sir Tristrem, as narrated in the Edinburgh MS. is totally different from the voluminous romance in French prose, compiled on the same subject by RusTi- ciEN DE PuiSE, and analysed by M. de Tressan; but agrees in every essential particular with the metrical performance just quoted, which is a work of much higher antiquity. The following attempt to commemorate the Rhymer's poetical fame, and the traditional account of his marvel- lous return to J'airy Land, being entirely modern, would have been placed with greater propriety among the class of modern ballads, had it not been for its immediate connection with the first and second parts of the same story. 286 THOMAS THE RHYMER. PART THIRD. When seven years more had come and gone. Was war thro' Scotland spread ; And Ruberslaw shew'd high Dunyon, His beacon blazing red. Then all by bonny Coldingknow, Pitched palliouns took their room ; And crested helms, and spears a rowe. Glanced gaily thro' the broom. The Leader, rolling to the Tweed, Resounds the ensenzie* ; They roused the deer from Caddenhead, To distant Torwoodlee. * Ensenzie.^Wai cry, or gathering word. 287 The feast was spread in Erceldoune, In Learmont's high and ancient hall ; And there were knights of great renown. And ladies laced in pall. Nor lacked they, while they sat at dine. The music, nor the tale ; Nor goblets of the blood-red wine. Nor mantling quaighs * of ale. True Thomas rose, with harp in hand. When as the feast was done ; (In minstrel strife, in Fairy Land, The elfin harp he won.) Hush'd were the throng, both limb and tongue. And harpers for envy pale ; And armed lords lean'd on their swords. And hearken'd to the tale. In numbers high, the witching tale The prophet pour'd along ; No after bard might e'er avail f Those numbers to prolong. ^/g-,4j. Wooden cups composed of staves hooped together, f See introduction to this ballad. 288 Yet fragments of the lofty strain Float down the tide of years ; As, buoyant on the stormy main, A parted wreck appears. He sung King Arthur's table round : The warrior of the lake ; How courteous Gawaine met the wound. And bled for ladie's sake. But chief, in gentle Tristrem's praise. The notes melodious swell; Was none excell'd, in Arthur's days. The Knight of Lionelle. For Marke, his cowardly uncle's right, i^venom'd wound he bore; When fierce Morholde he slew in fight. Upon the Irish shore. No art the poison might withstand ; No medicine could be found. Till lovely Isolde's lilye hand Had probed the rankling wound. 289 With gentle hand and soothing tongue. She bore the leech's part : And, while she o'er his sick-bed hung. He paid her with his heart. O fatal was the gift, I ween ! For, doom'd in evil tide. The maid must be rude Cornwall's Queen, His cowardly uncle's bride. Their loves, their woes, the gifted bard In fairy tissue wove ; Where lords, and knights, and ladies bright. In gay confusion strove. The Garde Joyeuese, amid the tale. High rear'd its glittering head ; And Avalon's enchanted vale In all its wonders spread. Brangwain was there, and Segramore, And fiend-born Merlin's gramarye ; Of that fam'd wizzard's mighty lore, O who could sing but he ? Vol. II. T 290 Thro' many a maze the winning song In changeful passion ted^ Till bent at length the listening throng O'er Tristrem's dying bed. His ancient wounds their scars expand ; With agony his heart is wrung : O where is Isolde's lilye hand. And where her soothing tongue ? She comes ! she comes ! like flash of flame Can lovers' footsteps fly : She comes ! she comes ! she only came To see her Tristrem die. She saw him die : her latest sigh Joined in a kiss his parting breath : The gentlest pair that Britain bare. United are in death. There paused the harp : its lingering sound Died slowly on the ear; The silent guests still bent around. For still they seem'd to hear. 291 Then woe broke forth in murmurs weak ; Nor ladies heaved alone the sigh ; But, half ashamed, the rugged cheek Did many a gauntlet dry. On Leader's stream, and liearmont's tower. The mists of evening close ; In camp, in castle, or in bower. Each warrior sought repose. Lord Douglas, in his lofty tent. Dreamed o'er the woeftil tale ; When footsteps light, across the bent. The warrior's ears assail. He starts, he wakes : " What, Richard, ho ! Arise, my page, arise ! What venturous wight, at dead of night. Dare step where Douglas lies !" Then forth they rush'd : by Leader's tide, A selcoutli* sight they see A hart and hind pace side by side. As white as snow on Fairnalie. * &/(^. Wondrous. T 2 292 Beneath the moon, with gesture proud, They stately move and slow ; Nor scare they at the gathering crowd. Who marvel as they go. To Learmont's tower a message sped. As fast as page might run ; And Thomas started from his bed. And soon his cloaths did on. First he woxe pale, and then woxe red ; Never a word he spake but three : " My sand is run ; my thread is spun ; This sign regardeth me." The elfin harp his neck around. In minstrel guise he hung ; And on the wind, in doleful sound. Its dying accents rung. Then forth he went ; yet turned him oft To view his ancient hall ; On the grey tower, in lustre soft, 'The autumn moonbeams fall. 293 And Leader'3 waves, like silver sheen, Danced shimmering in the ray ; In deepening mass, at distance seen. Broad Soltra's mountains lay. " Farewell, my father's ancient tower ! A long farewell," said he : " The scene of pleasure, pomp, or power. Thou never more shalt be. " To Learmont's name no foot of earth Shall here again belong ; And, on thy hospitable hearth. The hare shall leave her young. " Adieu ! Adieu '." again he cried ; All as he turned him roun' " Farewell to Leader's silver tide ! Farewell to Erceldoune !" The hart and hind approached the place. As lingering yet he stood ; And there, before Lord Douglas' face. With them he cross'd the flood. T 3 294 Lord Douglas leaped on his berry-brov/n steed, And spurr'd him the Leader o'er ; But, tho' he rode with hghtning speed. He never saw them more. Some sayd to hill, and some to glen. Their wond'rous course had been ; But ne'er in haunts of living men Again was Thomas seen. 295 NOTES THOMAS THE RHYMER. PART THIRD. And Ruberslaw shew'd high Dunyon. P. 2S6, Verse 1. Ruberslaw and Dunyon are two hills above Jedburgh. Then all by bonny Coldingknow. P. 286, Verse 2. An ancient tower near Erceldoune, belonging to a family of the name of Home. One of Thomas's prophecies is said to have run thus ; Vengeance ! vengeance ! when and where ? On the house of Coldingknow, now and ever mair. The spot is rendered classical by its having given name to the beau- tiful melody, called the Broom o' tie Co%vdenkno%us. They roused the deer from Caddenhead To distant Tor- woodlee. P. 286", Verse 3. Torwoodlee and Caddenhead are places in Selkirkshire. How courteous Gawainc met the wound. 1'. 288, "V'erse 2. See, in the Fabliaux ot Monsieur Le Gran d, elegantly translated by the late Gregory Way, Esq. the talc of the Knight and the Sword. T 4 29S THE BONNY HYND. BROM MR HEUD's MS. WHERE THE FOLLOWING NOTE IS PREFIXED TO IT *< Copied from the mouth of a milkmaid, 1771, by W. Z,." It was originally the intention of the editor to have omitted this ballad, on account of the disagreeable na- ture of the subject. Upon consideration, however, it seemed a fair sample of a certain class of songs and tales, turning upon incidents the most horrible and unnatural, with which the vulgar in Scotland are greatly delighted, and of which they have current amongst them an ample store. Such, indeed, are the subjects of composition in most nations, during the early period of society ; when the feelings, rude and callous, can only be affected by the strongest stimuli, and where the mind does not, as in ^97 a more refined age, recoil disgusted from the means b^'^ which interest has been excited. Hence, incest, parri- cide' crimes, in fine, the foulest and most enormous, weretheearly themes ofthe.Grecianmuse. Whether that delicacy, which precludes the modern bard from the choice of 'such impressive and dreadful themes, be fa- vourable to the higher classes of poetic composition, may perhaps be questioned ; but there can be little doubt, that the more important cause of virtue and mo- rality is advanced by this exclusion. The knowledge that enormities are not without precedent, may promote and even suggest them. Hence, the publication of the Newgate Register has been prohibited by the wisdom of the legislature ; having been found to encourage those very crimes of which it recorded the punishment. Hence, too, the wise maxim of the Romans Facinora ostendi dum punientw, Jlagitia autem abscoiidi debent. The ballad has a high degree of poetical merit. 298 THE BONNY HYND. FROM THE MOUTH OF A MILKMAID, IN 1771. O May she comes, and May she goes, Down by yon gardens green ; And there she spied a gallant squire. As squire had ever been. And May she comes, and May she goes, Down by yon hollin tree ; And there she spied a brisk young squire. And a brisk young squire was he. 299 " Give me your green manteel, fair maid j Give me your maidenhead ! Give ye winna give me your green manteel. Give me your maidenhead !" *' Perhaps there may be bairns, kind Sir ; Perhaps there may be nane ; But, if you be a courtier, You'i tell me soon your name." " I am nae courtier, fair maid. But new come frae the sea; I am nae courtier, fair maid. But when 1 court wi' thee. " They call me Jack, when I'm abroad ; Sometimes the}' call me John ; But, when I'm in my father's bower, Jock Randal is my name." 300 " Ye lee, ye lee, ye bonny lad ! Sae loud's I hear ye lee ! For I'm Lord Randal's ae daughter. He has nae mair nor me." " Ye lee, ye lee, ye bonny May ! Sae loud's I hear ye lee ! For I'm Lord Randal's ae ae son. Just now come o'er the sea." She's putten her hand down by her gare. And out she's ta'en a knife ; And she has put it in her heart's bleed. And ta'en away her life. And he has ta'en up his bonny sister. With the big tear in his een ; And he has buried his bonny sister, Amang the hollins green. And syne he's hyed him o'er the dale. His father dear to see " Sing, Oh ! and Oh ! for my bonny hynd. Beneath yon hoUin tree !" 301 " What needs you care for your bonny hynd ? For it you need na care ; Take you the best, gi' me the warst, Since plenty is to spare." " I care no for your hynds, my lord ; I care no for your fee ; But, Oh ! and Oh ! for my bonny hynd. Beneath the hoUin tree !" ^' O were ye at your sister's bower. Your sister fair to see, You'l think nae mair o' your bonny hynd. Beneath the hollin tree." 302 O GIN MY LOVE WERE YON RED ROSE. FROM MR HERD'S MS. O gin my love were yon red rose. That grows upon the castle wa'. And I mysell a drap of dew, Down on that red rose I would fa'. O my love's bonny, bonny, bonny; My love's bonny and fair to see : Whene'er I look on her weel far'd face. She looks and smiles again to me. O gin my love were a pickle of wheat. And growing upon yon lily lee. And I mysell a bonny wee bird, Awa wi' that pickle o' wheat I wad flee. O my love's bonny, &c. 303 gin my love were a coffer o* gowd. And I the keeper o' the key, 1 wad open the kist whene'er I list. And in that coffer I wad be. O my love's bonny, &c. 304 O TELL aiE HOW TO WOO THEE. The following verses are taken down from recitation, and are averred to be of the age of Charles L They have indeed much of the romantic expression of passion coiumon to the poets of that period, whose lays still reflected the setting beams of chivalry. If doughty deeds my ladye please. Right soon I'll mount my steed ; And strong his arm, and fast his seat. That bears frae me the meed. I'll wear thy colours in my cap. Thy picture in my heart j And he that bends not to thine eye. Shall rue it to his smart. Then tell me how to woo thee, love ; O tell me how to woo thee ! For thy dear sake, nae care I'll take, Tho' ne'er another trow me. 305 If gay attire delight thine eye, I'll dight me in array ; I'll tend thy chamber door all night, And squire thee all the day. ' If sweetest sounds can win thy ear, These sounds I'll strive to catch ; Thy voice I'll steal to woo thysell. That voice that nane can match. Then tell me how to woo thee, love, O tell me how to woo thee ; For thy dear sake, nae care I'll take, Tho' ne'er another trow me. But if fond love thy heart can gain, I never broke a vow ; Nae maiden lays her skaith to me, I never loved but you. For you alone I ride the ring, For you I wear the blue ; For you alone I strive to sing, O tell me how to woo. O tell me how to woo thee, love, O tell me how to woo thee ; For' thy dear sake, nae care I'll take, Tho' ne'er another trow me. Vol. II, U MINSTRELSY SCOTTISH BORDER. PART THIRD. IMITATIONS OF THE ANCIENT BALLAD. 309 THE EVE OF SAINT JOHN. MODERN WALTER SCOTT. Smaylho'me, or Smallholm Tower, the scene of tlift following ballad, is situated on the northern boundary of Roxburghshire, among a cluster of wild rocks, called Sandiknow-Crags, the property of Hugh Scott, Esq. of Harden. The tower is a high square building, sur- rounded by an outer wall, now ruinous. The circuit of the outer court, being defended, on three sides, by a pre- cipice and morass, is only accessible from the west, by a steep and rocky path. The apartments, as is usual in a Border Keep, or fortress, are placed one above another, and communicate by a narrow stair; on tlie roof are two bartizans, or platforms, for defence or pleasure. The inner door of the tower is wood, the outer an iron U 3 310 grate; the distance between them being nine feet, the thickness, namely, of the wall. From the elevated situ- ation of Smaylho'me Tower, it is seen many miles in every direction. Among the crags by which it is sur- rounded, one more eminent is called the Watchfold, and is said to have been the station of a beacon in the times of war with England. Without the tower-court is a ruined chapel. Brotherstone is a heath, in the neigh- bourhood of Smaylho'me tower. ^ This ballad was first printed in Mr Lewis's Tales of Wonder. It is here published with some additional il- lustrations, particularly an account of the battle of An- cram Moor ; which seemed proper in a work upon Bor- der antiquities. The catastrophe of the tale is founded upon a well known Irish tradition. This ancient fortress and its vicinity formed the scene of the editor's infancy, and seemed to claim from him this attempt to celebrate them in a Border tale. 311 THE EVE OF SAINT JOHN. The Baron of Smaylho'me rose with day : He spurr'd his courser on^ Without stop or stay, down the rocky way That leads to Brotherstone. He went not with the bold Buccleuch, His banner broad to rear ; He went not 'gainst the Enghsh yew. To lift ihe Scotish spear. Yet his plate-jack* was braced, and his helmet waslaced, And his vaunt-brace of proof he wore ; At his saddle-gerthe was a good steel sperthe, Full ten pound weight and more. * The plate-jack is coat armour ; the vaunt-brace (avaunt-bras), ar- mour for the shoulders and arms j the sperthe, a battle-axe. U 4 312 The Baron return'd in three days space. And his looks were sad and sour ; And weary was his courser's pace. As he reached his rocky tower. He came not from where Ancram Moor* Ran red with Enghsh blood ; Where the Douglas true, and the bold Buccleuch, 'Gainst keen Lord Evers stood. Yet was his helmet hack'd and hew'd, His acton pierc'd and tore ; His axe and his dagger with blood embrued. But it was not English gore. He lighted at the Chapellage, He held him close and still ; And he whistled thrice for his little foot page, His name was English Will. " Come thou hither, my little foot page ; Come hither to my knee ; Though thou art young, and tender pf age, I think thou art true to me. * See an account of the battle of Ancram Moor, subjoined to th? ballad. 313 *' Come, tell me all that thou hast seen ; And look thou tell me true ! Since I from Smaylho'me tower have been. What did thy lady do t" *' My lady, each night, sought the lonely light. That burns on the wild Watchfold ; For, from height to height, the beacons bright Of the English focmen told. '^ The bittern clamour'd from the moss, The wind blew loud and shrill ; Yet the craggy pathway she did cross. To the eiry beacon hill. '' I watch'd her steps, and silent came Where she sate her on a stone ; No watchman stood by the dreary flame ; It burned all alone. '' The second night I kept her in sight, Till to the fire she came ; And, by Mary's might, an armed knight Stood by the lonely flame. 314 " And many a word that warlike lord Did speak to my lady there ; But the rain fell fast^ and loud blew the blast. And I heard not what thev were. " The third night there the sky was fair. And the mountain blast was still. As again I watched the secret pair. On the lonesome beacon hill. " And I heard her name the midnight hour. And name this holy eve ; And say, ^' Come this night to thy lady's bower ; " Ask no bold Baron's leave. " He lifts his spear with the bold Buccleuch ; " His lady is all alone ; " The door she'll undo, to her knight so true, " On the eve of good St John." '' I cannot come ; 1 must not come ; " I dare not come to thee ; " On the eve of St John I must wander alone " In thy bower I may not be." 315 J " Now, out on theCj faint-hearted knight ! *' Thou should'st not say me nay ; *' For the eve is sweet, and when lovers meet, " Is worth the whole summer's day. " And I'll chain the blood-hound, and the warder shall not sound, '^ And rushes shall be strewed on the stair ; " So, by the black rood-stone *, and by holy St John, " I conjure thee, my love, to be there." " Though the blood-hound be mute, and the rush beneath my foot, " And the warder his bugle should not blow, *^ Yet there sleepeth a priest in the chamber to the east, '' And my footstep he would know." '' O fear not the priest, who sleepeth to the east ! " For to Dry burgh f the way he has ta'en ; '' And there to say mass, till three days do pass, " For the soul of a knight that is slayne." The black-rood of Melrose was a crucifix of black maible, and ot superior sanctity. f- Dryburgh Abbey ;s beautifully situated on the banks of the Tweed. After its dissolution itbecame the property of the Halliburtons of Newmains, and is now the seat of the Right Honourable the Earl of BucBAN. It belongeJ to the Order of Premonstratenses. 3)6 " He turn'd him around, and grimly he frown'd ; Then he laugh 'd right scornfully '* He who says the mass-rite for the soul of that knight, " May as well say mass for me. *' At the lone midnight hour, when bad spirits have power, '* In thy chamber will I be." With that he was gone, and my lady left alone, And no more did I see." Then changed, I trow, was that bold Baron's brow. From the dark to the blood-red high ; " Now, tell me the mein of the knight thou hast seen, For, by Mary, he shall die !" '' His arms shone full bright, in the beacon's red light ; His plume it was scarlet and blue ; On his shield was a hound in a silver leash bound. And his crest was a branch of the yew." 317 " Thou liest, thou hest, thou httle foot-page I Loud dost thou he to me ! For that knight is cold, and low laid in the mould. All under the Eildon* tree." " Yet hear but my word, my noble lord ! For I heard her name his name ; And that lady bright, she called the knight. Sir Richard of Coldinghame." The bold Baron's brow then changed, I trow, From high blood-red to pale. " The grave is deep and dark, and the corpse is stiff and stark. So 1 may not trust thy tale. " Where fair Tweed flows round holy Melrose, And Eildon slopes to the plain. Full three nights ago, by some secret foe. That gay gallant was slain. * Eildon is a high hill, terminating in three conical summits, imme- diately above the town of Melrose, where are the admired ruins of a magnificent monasteiy. Eildon tree is said to be the spot where Thomas the Rhymer uttered his prophecies. See /"^^e 249. 818 *' The varying light deceiv'd thy sight, And the wild winds drown'd the name ; For the Dryburgh bells ring, and the white monks do sing. For Sir Richard of Coldinghame !" He pass'd the court-gate, and he oped the tower grate. And he mounted the narrow stair. To the bartizan-seat, where, with maids that on her wait. He found his lady fair. That lady sat in mournful mood j Look'd over hill and vale ; Over Tweed's fair flood, and Mertoun's * wood. And all down Tiviotdale. " Now hail ! now hail ! thou lady bright !" " Now hail ! thou Baron true ! What news, what news, from Ancram fight ? What news from the bold Buccleuch ?" " The Ancram Moor is red with gore, For many a southern fell ; And Buccleuch has charged us evermore. To watch our beacons well." Mertoun is the beautiful seat of Hugh Scott Esq. of Harden. 319 The lady blush'd red, but nothing she said ; Nor added the Baron a word : Then she stepp'd down the stair to her chamber fair. And so did her moody lord. In sleep the lady mourn'd, and the Baron toss'd and turn'd. And oft to himself he said " The worms around him creep, and his bloody grave is deep : It cannot give up the dead !" It was near the ringing of matin bell, The night was well nigh done. When a heavy sleep on that Baron fell. On the eve of good St John. Tlie lady looked through the chamber fair, ' By the light of a dying flame; And she was aware of a knight stood there Sir Richard of Coldinghame ! " Alas ! away ! away !" she cried, " For the holy Virgin's sake." " Lady, I know wlio sleeps by thy side ; But, Lady, he will not awake. 320 *' By Eildon-tree, for long nights three. In bloody grave have I lain ; The mass and the death-prayer are said for me. But, Lady^ they are said in vain. "i By the Baron's brand, near Tweed's fair strand. Most foully slain I fell ; And my restless sprite on the beacon's height. For a space is doom'd to dwell. " At our trysting-place*, for a certain space, I must wander to and fro ; But I had not had power to come to thy bower, Hads't thou not conjured me so." Love master'd fear her brow she cross'd; " How, Richard, hast thou sped ? And art thou saved, or art thou lost ?" The vision shook his head ! " Who spilleth life, shall forfeit life; So bid thy lord believe : That lawless love is guilt above. This awful sign receive." * Trystifig-p/act. Place of lemiszvoiis. 321 He laid his left hand on an oaken stand. His right hand on her arm : The lady shrunk, and fainting sunk. For the touch was fiery warm. The sable score of fingers four Remains on that board impress'd ; And for evermore that lady wore A covering on her wrist. There is a nun in Dryburgh bower. Ne'er looks upon the sun : There is a monk in Melrose tower. He speaketh word to none. That nun, who ne'er beholds the day. That monk, who speaks to none That nun, was Smaylho'mes Lady gay. That monk, the bold Baron. Vol. II X .322 NOTES THE EVE OF ST JOHN. BATTLE OF ANCRAM MOOR. Lord EvERs, and Sir Brian Latoun, during the year 1544, committed the most dreadful ravages upon the Scotish frontiers, com- pelling most of the inhabitants, and especially the men of Liddesdale, to take assurance under the King of England. Upon the 17th Novem- oer, in that year, the sum total of their depredations stood thus in the bloody ledger of Lord Evers. Towns, towers, barnekynes, paryshe churches, bastill houses, burned and destroyed . 192 Scots slain - - - - 403 Prisoners taken - - - - 816 Nolt- (cattle) ^ .... 10,386 Shepe - . - - 12,492 Nags and geldings - - - 1,296 Gayt - - , _ 200 Bolls of corn . - - 850 Insight, gear, &c. (furniture) an incalciilable quantity. Murdin's State Papers, Vol. I. p. 51. 323 The King of England had promised to these two barons a feudal grant of the country which they had thus reduced to a desert j upo'n hearing which, Archibald Douglas, the seventh Earl of An- gus, is said to have sworn to write the deed of investiture upon their skins, with sharp pens and bloody ink, in resentment for their having defaced the tombs of his ancestors, at Melrose.' -Godscroft. In 1545, Lord EvERS and Latoun again entered Scotland, with an army consisting of 3000 mercenaries, 1500 English borderers, and 70O assured Scotishmen, chiefly Armstrongs, Turnbulls, and other broken clans. In this second incursion, the English Generals even exceeded their former cruelty. Evers burned the tower of Broom- house, with its lady, (a noble and aged woman, says Lesly) and her whole family. The English penetrated as far as Melrose, which they had destroyed last year, and which they now again pillaged. As they returned towards Jedburgh, they were followed by Angus, at the head of 1000 horse, who was shortly after joined by the famous Norman Lesley, with a body of Fife-men. The English, being probably unwilling to cross the Teviot, while the Scots hung upon their rear, halted upon Ancram Moor, above the village of that name ; and the Scotish General was deliberating whether to advance or retire, when Sir Walter Scott*, of Buccleuch, came up at full speed, with a small but chosen body of his retainers, the rest of whom were near at hand. By the advice of this experienced warrior, (to whose conduct Pitscottie ascribes the success of the engagement) An- gus withdrew from the height which he occupied, and drew up his forces behind it, upon a piece of low flat ground, called Panier-heugh, or Penicl-heugh. The spare horses, being sent to an eminence in their - The editor has found in no instance upon record, of this family having taken assurance with England. Hence, they usually sufl^ered dreadfully from the English forays. In August, 1544, fthe year preceding the battle) the whole lands belonging to Bucc leuch, in West Teviotdale, were hanied by Evers ; the outworks, or barm- kin, of the lowir of Branxholm, burned ; eight Scotts slain, thirty made prisoners, and an immense prey of horses, cattle, and sheep, car- ried off. The lands upon Kale water, belonging to the same chicltain, were also [ilundered, and much spoil obtained j 30 Scotts slain, and the Moss Tower, (a fortress near Eckferd) smoked njcry sere. Thus Buc- cleuch had a long account to settle at Ancram Moor. Mwrc/;/;'! titatc Papers, p. 45, 46. -X 2 324 rear, appeared to the English to be the main body of the Scots, in the act of flight. Under this persuasion, Evers and Latoun hurried precipitately forwards, and, having ascended tlie hill which their foes had abandoned, were no less dismayed than astonished, to find the phalanx of Scotish spearmen drawn up, in firm array, upon the flat ground below. The Scots in their turn became the assailants. A heron, roused from the marshes by the tumult, soared away betwixt the encountering armies. " Oh !" exclaimed Angus, " that I had " here my white goss-hawk, that we might all yoke at once !" Godscroft. The English, breathless and fatigued, having the setting sun and wind full in their faces, were unable to withstand the resolute and desperate charge of the Scotish lances. No sooner had they begun to waver, than their own allies, the assured borderers, who had been waiting the event, threw aside their red crosses, and, joining their countrymen, made a most merciless slaughter among the English fugi- tives, the pursuers calling upon each other to " remember Broomhouse !" -Lesly, p. 4.78. In the battle fell Lord Evers, and his son, together with Sir Brian Latoun, and 8co Englishmen, many of whom were persons of rank. A thousand prisoners were taken. Among these was a patriotic Alderman of Loudon, Read by name, wlio, having contuma- ciously refused to pay his portion of a benevolence demanded from the city by Henry VIIL was sent by royal authority to serve against the Scots. These, at settling his ransom, he found still more exorbitant in their exactions than the moniLvch.-Redpath''s Border History, p. 553. Evers was much regretted by King Henry, who swore to avenge his death upon Angus, against whom he conceived hlinself to have l>articular grounds of resentment, on account of favours received by the Earl at his hands. The answer of Angus was worthy of a Dou- glas. "Is our brother-in-law offended*," said he, " that I, as a " good Scotsman, have avenged my ravaged country, and the defaced " tombs of my ancestors, ivpon Ralph Evers ? They were better " men than he, and I was bound to s- Vide Account of the Parish of Melrose. It appears from a passage in Stowe, that an ancestor of Lord Evers held also a grant of Scotish lands from an English Monaich. " I have " seen," says the historian, " under the broad seale of the said King * Edward \. a mannor, railed Ketnes, in the countie of Ferfare, in " Scotland, and neere the furthest part of the same nation northward, " given to John Eure and his heires, ancestor to the Lord Eure " that now is, for his service done in these partes, with market, &c. " dated at Latiercost, the 20th day of October, anno regis, 34." Stoive^s Annals, p. 210. This grant, like that of Henry, must have been dangerous to the receiver. There in a nun in Dryburgh boucr P. 312, Verse 3. The circumstance of the nun " who never saw the day," is not en- tirely imaginary. About fifty years ago, an unfortunate female wan- derer took up her residence in a dark vault, among the ruins of Dry- burgh abbey, which, during the day, she never t|uitted. When night fell, she issued from this miserable habitation, and went to the house of Mr Halliburton of Newmains, or that of Mr Erskine of Sheffield, two gentlemen of the neighbourhood. From their charity she obtained such necessaries as she could be prevailed upon to ac- cept. At twelve, each night, she lighted her candle, and returned to her vault; assuring her friendly neighbours, that, during her absence, her habitation was arranged by a spirit, to whom she gave the uncouth name of Fatlifs ; describing him as a little man, wearing heavy iron shoes, with whic]i he trampled the clay floor of the vault, to dispel X 3 326 the damps. This circumstance caused her to be regarded, by the well informed, with compassion, as deranged in her understanding ; and by the vulgar, with some degree of terror. The cause of her adopting this extraordinary mode of life she would never explain. It was, however, believed to have betn occasioned by a vow, that, during the absence of a man to whom she was attached, she would never look upon the sun. Her lover never returned. He fell during the civil war of 1745-6, and she never more would behold the light of day. These circumstances the editor gives to the public on the best au- thority. The vault, or rather dungeon, in which this unfortunate woman lived and died, passes still by the name of the supernatural be- ing with which its gloom was tenanted by her disturbed imagination, and few of the neighbouring peasants dare enter it by night. 327 LORD SOULIS. NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED J. LEYDEN, The subject of the following ballad is a popular talc of the Scotish borders. It refers to transactions of a pe- riod so important, as to have left an indelible impression on the popular mind, and almost to have effaced the tra- ditions of earlier times. The fame of Arthur, and the Knights of the Round Table, always more illustrious among the Scotish borderers, from their Welch origin, than Fin Maccoul, and Gow Macmorne, who seem not, however, to have been totally unknown, yielded gra- dually to the renown of Wallace, Bruce, Douglas, and the other patriots, who so nobly asserted the liberty of their country. Beyond that period, numerous, but obscure and varying legends, refer to the marvellous X 4 328 Merlin, or Myrrdit^ the Wild, and Michael Scot, both magicians of notorious fame. In this instance the enchanters have triumphed over the true man. But the charge of magic was transferred from the ancient sor- cerers to the objects of popular resentment of every age; and the partizans of the Baliols, the abettors of the English faction, and the enemies of the Protestant, and of the Presbyterian Reformation, have been indiscrimi- nately stigmatized as necromancers and 'warlocks. Thus, Lord SouLis, Archbishop Sharp, Grierson of Lagg, and Graham of Claverhouse, Viscount Dunbee, re- ceive from tradition the same supernatural attributes. According to Dalry mple*, the family of Soulis seem to have been powerful during the contest between Bruce and Baliol ; for adhering to the latter of whom they incurred forfeiture. Their power extended over the south and west marches ; and nearf Deadrigs, in the pa- rish of Eccles, in the east marches, their family bearings still appear on an obelisk ; and William de Soulis, Justiciarius Laodonia;, in 1281, subscribed the famoas obligation, by which the nobility of Scotland bound themselves to acknowledge the sovereignty of the Maid of Norway, and her descendants. Rhymer, torn. 2, p. 266,279'} and, in 12^1, Nicholas de Soulis appears as a competitor for the crown of Scotland, which he claimed as the heir of Margery, a bastard daughter * DALRVMPLE'sCoIlectionsconceiiiing the Scottish History, p. 395. j- Transactions of the Antiquarian Society of Scotland, Vol. I. p. 269. 329 of Alexander II. and wife of Allan Durward, or Chuissier. Carte, p. IJJ. Dalrymple's Annals, Vol. I. p. 203. But their power was not confined to tlie marches ; for the barony of Saltoun, in the shire of Haddington, deri- ved its name from the family ; being designed Soulistoun, in a charter to the predecessors of Nevoy of that ilk, seen by Dalrymple; and the same frequently ap- pears among those of the benefactors and witnesses in the chartularies of abbeys, particularly in that of New- bottle. Ranulphus de Soulis occurs as a witness, in a charter, granted by King David, of the teinds of Stirling ; and he, or one of his successors, had after- wards the appellation of Pincerna Regis. In a charter of King John Baliol, granted after he had been de- throned, and dated Rutherglen, the .9th year of his reign (1320), Johannes de Soulis is denominated Custos regni nostri. The following notices of the family and its dechne, are extracted from Robertson's Index of lost Charters*. Various repetitions occur, as the index is co- pied from different rolls, which never appear to have been accurately arranged. Charter to the Abbacie of Melros, of that part of the barrony of Westerkcr, (juhilk pertenit to Lord Soulis a Roe. I. in vkecom. Mehose. * Index of many records of Charters granted between 1309 n 1413, published by W. Robertson, Esq. 330 Charter to the Abbey of Craigelton, quhilkis perteinit to Lord SouLLis ab codem Candidae Casas. To John Sor.ns Knight, of the lands of Klrkanderg and Brettalach ab eodem Dumfries. To John Soul Lis Knight, of the barronie of Torthorald, ab eodem Dumfries. To John Soullis, of the iandis of Kirkanders- ab eo- dem Dumfries. To John Soullis, of the barony of Kirkanders quz fuit quendam Johannis de Wak, Militis ab eodem. To James Lord Douglas, the half-lands of the barony of Westerker, in valle de Esk, quilk William Sou- Lis foiisfecit ab eodem. I To Robert Stewart, the son and heir of Walter Stewart, tlie barony of Nisbit, the barony of Long Newton, and Mertoun, and the barony of Cavirtoun, in vicecomitatu de Roxburgh, quilk William Sou- Lis forisfecit. To Murdoch Menteith, of the lands of Gilmerton, whilk was William Soullis, in vicecom. de Edin- burgh ublicam, redegi manuque mea propria *' scripsi requisiiiis el roga om omnium premissorum " signo mco-consueto signavi." 355 THE COUT OF KEELDAR. NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED J. LEYDEN. The tradition on which the following ballad is found- ed, derives considerable illustration from the argument of the preceding. It is necessary to add, that the most redoubtable adversary of Lord Soulis was the Chief of Keeldar, a Northumbrian district, adjacent to Cumber- land, who perished in a sudden encounter on the banks of Hermitage. Being arrayed in armour of proof, he sustained no hurt in the combat ; but stumbling in re- treating across the river, the hostile party held him down below water with iheir long lances, till he died, and the eddy in which he perished is still called the Cout of Keeldar's Pool. His grave, of gigantic size, is pointed out on the banks of the Hermitage, at the western cor- ner of a wall, surrounding the burial-ground of a ruined Z 2 356 chapel. As an enemy of Lord Soults, his memory is revered ; and the popular epithet of Cout, i. e. Colt, is expressive of his strength, stature, and activity. Tradi- tion likewise relates, that the young chief of Manger- ton, to whose protection Lord SouLis had, in some eminent jeopardy, been indebted for his life, was decoyed by that faithless tyrant into his castle of Hermitage, and insidiously murdered at a feast. The Keeldar Stone, by which the Northumbrian chief passed in his incursion, is still pointed out, as a bounda- ry mark, on the confines of Jed forest, and Northum- berland. It is a rough insulated mass, of considerable dimensions, and it is held unlucky to ride thrice icither- shins* around it. Keeldar castle is now a hunting seat, belonging to the Duke of Northumberland, The Brown Man of the Muirs is a fairy of the most malignant order, the genuine duergar. Walsingham mentions a story of an unfortunate youth, whose brains were extracted from his skull, during his sleep, by this malicious being. Owing to this operation, he remained insane for many years, till the Virgin Mary courteously restored his brains to their station. }Vitherihins.Germm\, loidderslns. A direction contrary to thfi course of the sun j from Itft, namely, to right. 357 THE COUT OF KEELDAR. NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED J. LEYDEN. The eiry blood-hound howled by night. The streamers* flaunted red, Till broken streaks of flaky light O'er Keeldar's mountains spread. The ladye sigh'd as Keeldar rose : " Come tell rae, dear love mine. Go you to hunt where Keeldar flows. Or on the banks of Tyne ?" " The heath-bell blows where Keeldar flows. By Tyne the primrose pale ; But now we ride on the Scotish side. To hunt in Liddesdule." * Streamers. THorthcm lights. Z 3 358 " Gin you will ride on the Scotish side. Sore must thy Margaret mourn ; For Soulis abhorred is Lyddall's lord. And I fear you'll ne'er return. " The axe he bears, it hacks and tears ; 'Tis formed of an earth-fast flint ; No armour of knight, tho' ever so wight. Can bear its deadly dint. " No danger he fears, for a charmed sword he wears ; Of adderstone the hilt ; No Tynedale knight had ever such might. But his heart-blood was spilt." " In my plume is seen the holly green. With the leaves of the rowan tree ; And my casque of sand, by a mermaid's hand. Was formed beneath the sea. " Then, Margaret dear, have thou no fear; That bodes no ill to me ; Though never a knight by mortal might Could match his gramarye." S59 Then forward bound both horse and hound^ And rattle o'er the vale ; As the wintry breeze, through leafless trees. Drives on the pattering hail. Behind their course the English fells In deepening blue retire ; Till soon before them boldly swells The muir of dun Redswire. And when they reached the Redswire high. Soft beam'd the rising sun ; But formless shadows seemed to fly Along the muir-land dun. And when he reached the Redswire high. His bugle Keeldar blew ; And round did float, with clamorous note And scream, the hoarse curlew. The next blast that young Keeldar blew. The wind grew deadly still ; But the sleek fern, with fingery leaves. Waved wildly o'er the hill. Z 4 360 The third blast that young Keeldar blew. Still stood the limber fern ; And a wee man, of swarthy hue, Up started by a cairn. His russet weeds were brown as heath. That clothes the upland fell; And the hair of his head was frizzly red. As the purple heather bell. An urchin*, clad in prickles red. Clung cowring to his arm ; The hounds they howl'd, and backward fled. As struck by fairy charm. " Wh)' rises high the stag-hound's cry. Where stag-hound ne'er should be ? Why wakes that horn the silent morn. Without the leave of me ?" " Brown dwarf, that o'er the muir-land strays. Thy name to Keeldar tell." " The Brown Man of the Muirs, who stays Beneath the heather bell. C/rf/5/. Hedge-hog. 361 " 'Tis sweet, beneath the heather bell. To Uve in autumn brown ; And sweet to hear the lav'rocks swell. Far far from tower and town. " But woe betide the shrilling horn. The chase's surly cheer ; And ever that hunter is forlorn. Whom first at morn I hear." Says '' Weal nor woe, nor friend nor foe. In thee we hope nor dread," But, ere the bugles green could blow. The Wee Brown Man had fled. And onward, onward, hound and horse. Young Keeldar's band have gone ; And soon they wheel, in rapid course. Around the Keeldar Stone. Green vervain round its base did' creep, A powerful seed that bore ; And oft, of yore, its channels deep Were stained with human gore. 362 And still, when blood-drops, clotted thin. Hang the grey moss upon. The spirit murmurs from within. And shakes the rocking stone. Around, around, young Keeldar wound. And called in scornful tone. With him to pass the barrier ground, The spirit of the stone. The rude crag rocked ; '' I come for death I I come to work thy woe !" And 'twas the Brown Man of the Heath That murmured from below. But onward, onward, Keeldar past, Swift as the winter wind ; When, hovering on the driving blast. The snow flakes fall behind. They passed the muir of berries blae. The stone cross on the lee ; They reached the green, the bonny brae. Beneath the birchen tree. 363 This is the bonny brae, the green. Yet sacred to the brave. Where still, of ancient size, is seen Gigantic Keeldar's grave. The lonely shepherd loves to mark The daisy springing fair ; Where weeps the birch of silver bark. With long dishevelled hair. The grave is green, and round is spread The curling lady fern ; That fatal day the mould was red. No moss was on the cairn. And next they passed the chapel there ; The holy ground was by. Where many a stone is sculptured fair. To mark where warriors lie. And here, beside the mountain flood, A massy castle frown'd ; Since first the Pictish race in blood The haunted pile did found. 364 The restless stream its rocky base Assails with ceaseless din ; And many a troubled spirit strays The dungeons dark within. Soon from the lofty tower there hied A knight across the vale ; " I greet your master well," he cried, " From Soulis of Liddisdale. " He heard your bugle's echoing call. In his green garden bower ; And bids you to his festive hall. Within his ancient tower." Young Keeldar called his hunter train ; " For doubtful cheer prepare ; And, as you open force disdain. Of secret guile beware. " Twas here for Mangerton's brave lord, A bloody feast was set ; Who weetless, at the festal board. The bull's broad frontlet met. 365 " Then ever, at uncourteous feast. Keep every man his brand ; And, as you mid his friends are placed. Range on the better hand. '^ And if the bull's ill omened head Appear to grace the feast. Your whingers, with unerring speed. Plunge in each neighbour's breast." In Hermitage they sat at dine. In pomp and proud array ; And oft they filled the blood-red wine. While merry minstrels play. And many a hunting song they sung. And song of game and glee ; Then tuned to plaintive strains their tongue, Of Scotland's lave and lee." To wilder measures next they turn : " The Black Black Bull of Norroway ;" Sudden the tapers cease to burn. The minstrels cease to play ; 366 Each hunter bold, of Keeldar's train. Sat an enchanted man ; For cold as ice, through every vein, The freezing life-blood ran. Each rigid hand the whinger wrung, Each gazed with glaring eye ; But Keeldar from the table sprung. Unharmed by gramarye. He burst the door ; the roofs resound ; With yells the castle rung ; Before him, with a sudden bound. His favourite blood-hound sprung.. Ere he could pass, the door was barr'd ; And, grating harsh from under. With creaking jarring noise, was heard A sound like distant thunder. The iron clash, the grinding sound. Announce the dire sword-mili ; The piteous bowlings of the hound The dreadful dungeon fill. 367 With breath drawn in, the murderous crew Stood listening to the yell ; And greater still their wonder grew. As on their ear it fell. They listen'd for a human shriek, Amid the jarring sound ; They only heard, in echoes weak. The murmurs of the hound. The death-bell rung, and wide were flung The castle gates amain ; While hurry out the armed rout. And marshal on the plain. Ah ! ne'er before in border feud. Was seen so dire a fray ; Through glittering lances Keeldar hewed A red corse-paven way. His helmet, formed of mermaid sand. No lethal brand could dint ; No other arms could e'er withstand The axe of earth-fast flint. 3^8 In Keeldar's plume the holly green. And rowan leaves, nod on ; And vahi Lord Soulis' sword was seen. Though the hilt was adderstone. Then up the Wee Brown Man he rose, By Soulis of Liddisdale ; " In vain," he said, " a thousand blows Assail the charmed mail. " In vain by land your arrows ghde. In vain your faulchions gleam Mo spell can stay the living tide. Or charm the rushing stream." And now young Keeldar reached the stream, Above the foamy linn ; The border lances round him gleam. And force the warrior in. The holly floated to the side. And the leaf of the rowan pale : Alas ! no spell could charm the tide. Nor the lance of Liddisdale. 369 Swift was the Cout o* Keeldar's course^ Along the hly lee ; But home came never hound nor horse. And never home came he. Where weeps the birch with branches green, Without the holy ground. Between two old grey stones is seen The warrior's ridgy mound. And the hunters bold, of Keeldar's train. Within yon castle's wall. In a deadly sleep must ay remain. Till the ruined towers down fall. Each in his hunter's garb array'd. Each holds his bugle horn ; Their keen hounds at their feet are laid. That ne'er shall wake the morn. Vol. II A a sro NOTES THE COUT OF KEELDAR. 'Tis formed of an earth-fast flint. P. 258, Verse 2. An earth-fast stone, or an insulated stone, inclosed in a bed of earth, is supposed to possess peculiar properties. It is frequently applied to sprains and bruises, and used to dissipate swellings ; but its blow is reck- oned uncommonly severe. Of adderstone the hilt. P. 358, Verse 3. The.adderstone, among the Scotish peasantry, is held in almost as high veneration, as, among the Gauls, the ovum anguirtum, described by Pi.itiY.. 'Natural History, 1. xxix. c. 3. The name is applied to celts, and other round perforated stones. The vulgar suppose them to be per- forated by the stings of adders. With the leaves of the rowan tree. P. 258, Verse 4. The rowan tree, or mountain ash, is still used by the peasantry, to avert the effects of charms and witchcraft. An inferior degree of the same influence is supposed to reside in many evergreens 5 as the holly, and the bay. With the leaves of the bay, the English and Welch peasants were lately accustomed to adorn their doors, at midsummer. yide Brand's Vulgar Antiquities. 371 And shakes the rocking stone. P, 3^2, Verse 1 . The rocking stone, commonly reckoned a Druidical monument, has always been held in superstitious veneration by the people. The popu- lar opinion, which supposes them to be inhabited by a spirit, coincides with that of the ancient Icelanders, who worshipped the daemons which they believed to inhabit great stones. It is related in the Kristni saga^ chap. a. that the first Icelandic bishop, by chaunting a hymn over one of these sacred stones, immediately after his arrival in the island, split it, expelled the spirit, and converted its worshippers to Christianity. The herb vervain, revered by the Druids, was also reckoned a powerful charm by the common people ; and the author recollects a popular rhyme, supposed to be addressed to a young woman by the devil, who attempted to seduce her in the shape of a handsome young man : Gin yc wish to be leman mine, Lay off the St John's wort, and the vervine. By his repugnance to these sacred plants, his mistress discovered the cloven foot. Since Jirst the Pictish race in blood, P. 363, Verse 5. Castles, remarkable for size, strength, and antiquity, are, by the com- mon people, commonly attributed to the Picts, or Pechs, who are not supposed to have trusted solely to their skill in masonry, in construct- ing these edifices ; but are believed to have bathed the foundation stono with human blood, in order to propitiate the spirit of the soil. Similar to this is the Gaelic tradition, according to which St Columba h suppo- sed to have been forced to bury St Oran alive, beneath the foundation of his monastery, in order to propitiate the spirits of the soil, who de- molished by night what was built during the day. And if the bull's ill-omened head, S^c. P. 365, Verse 2. To present a bull's head before a j)erson at a feast, was, in the an- cient turbulent times of Scotland, a common signal for his assassination. Thus, Lindsay of Pitscottie relates in his history, p. 17, that " ef- *' ter the dinner was endit, once alle the delicate courses taken away, " the chancellor (Sir W. Crichton) presentit the buUis head bc- " foir the Earle of Douglas, in signe and toaken of condemnation tq " the death." Aa 2 372 They tuned to plaintive strains their tongue " Of Scot- land's lute and lee'' P. 365, Verse 4. The most ancient Scotish song known, is that which is here alluded to, and is thus given by Wintoun, in his Cronykil, Vol. I. p. 401. Quhen Alysandyr cure kynge wes dede, That Scotland led in luve and le. Away wes sons of ale and brede. Of wyne and wax, of gamyn and gle : Oure gold wes changyd into lede, Cry St, borne into virgynyte. Succour Scotland and remede. That stad is in perplexyte. That alluded to in the following verse, is a wild fenciflil popular tale of enchantment, termed <' TAe Black Bull of Norroway" The au- thor is inclined to believe it the same story with the romance of the " Three Futtit Dog of Norroway,'" the title of which is mentioned in the Complaynt of Scotland. The iron clash, the grinding sound Announce the dire sword-mill. P. 366, Verse 5. The author is unable to produce any authority that the execrable ma- chine, the sword-mill, so well known on the continent, was ever em- ployed in Scotland ; but he believes the vestiges of something very si- milar have been discovered in the ruins of old castles. No spell can stay the living tide, SfC. P. 368, Verse 3. That no species of magic had any effect over a running stream, was a common opinion among the vulgar, and is alluded to in Burns' admi- rable tale of Tarn 0' Shanter. 373 GLENFINLAS, OR LORD RONALD'S CORONACH*. BY THE EDITOR. The simple tradition upon which the following stanzas are founded, runs thus : While two Highland hun- ters were passing the night in a solitary bathy (a hut built for the purpose of hunting), and making merry over their venison and whisky, one of them expressed a wish that they had pretty lasses to complete their party.^ The words were scarcely uttered, when two beautiful young women, habited in green, entered the hut, dan- cing and singing. One of the hunters was seduced by the syren who attached hei'self particularly to him, to leave the hut : the other remained, and, suspicious of * Coronach is the lamentation for a deceased warrior, sung by the aged of the clan. A a 3 374i the fair seducers, continued to play upon a trump, or Jew's harp, some strain consecrated to the Virgin Mary. Day at length came, and the temptress vanished. Searching in the forest, he found the bones of his unfor- tunate friend, who had been torn to pieces and devoured by the fiend into whose toils he had fallen. The place was from thence called the Glen of the Green Women. Glenfinlas is a tract of forest ground, lying in the Highlands of Perthshire, not far from Callender, in Menteith. It was formerly a royal forest, and now be- longs to the Earl of Moray. This country, as well as the adjacent district of Balquidder, was in times of yore chiefly inhabited by the Macgregors. To the west of the forest of Glenfinlas lies Loch Katrine, and its ro- mantic avenue, called the Troshachs. Benledi, Ben- more, and Benvoirlich, are mountains in the same dis- trict, and at no great distance from Glenfinlas. The ri- ver Teith passes Callender and the castle of Doune, and joins the Forth near Stirling. The Pass of Lenny is im- mediately above Callender, and is the principal access to the Highlands, from that town. Glenartney is a fo- rest near Benvoirlich. The whole forms a sublime tract of Alpine scenery. This oallad first appeared in the Tales of Wonder. 375 GLENFINLAS, OR LORD RONALD'S CORONACH. ** For them the viewless forms of air obey, " Their bidding heed, and at their beck repair; " They know what spirit brews the stormfui day, *' And heartless oft, like moody madness, stare *' To see the phantom train their secret work prepare. O hone a rie' ! O hone a rie'* ! The pride of Albin's hne is o'er, And fallen Glenartney's stateUest tree ; We ne'er shall see Lord Ronald more ! Aon a rW signifies" Alas for the prince, or chief." A a 4 376 O, sprang from great Macgillianore, The chief that never feared a foe. How matchless was thy broad claymore, How deadly thine unerring bow ! Well can the Saxon widows tell. How, on the Teith's resounding shore. The boldest Lowland warriors fell. As down from Lenny's pass you bore. But o'er his hills, on festal day. How blazed Lord Ronald's beltane tree; While youths and maids the light strathspey So nimbly danced with Highland glee. Cheer'd by the strength of Ronald's shell. E'en age forgot his tresses hoar; But now the loud lament we swell, O ne'er to see Lord Ronald more ! From distant isles a chieftain came. The joys of Ronald's halls to find ; And chase with him the dark brown game. That bounds o'er Albin's hills of wind. ^11 'Twas Moy ; whom in Columba's isle The seer's prophetic spirit found. As, with a minstrel's fire the while. He waked his harp's harmonious sound. Full many a spell to him was known. Which wandering spirits shrink to hear And many a lay of potent tone. Was never meant for mortal ear. For there, 'tis said, in mystic mood. High converse with the dead they hold ; And oft espy the fated shroud. That shall the future corpse enfold. O so it fell, that, on a day. To rouse the red deer from their den, The chiefs have ta'en their distant way, And scour'd the deep Glenfinlas glen, No vassals wait their sports to aid, To watch their safety, deck their board \ Their simple dress, the Highland plaid, Their trusty guard, the Highland sword. 378 Three summer days, through brake and delJ, Their whistling shafts successful flew ; And still, when dewy evening fell. The quarry to their hut they drew. In grey Glenfinlas' deepest nook The solitary cabin stood. Fast by Moneira's sullen brook. Which murmurs through that lonely wood. Soft fell the night, the sky was calm. When Three successive days had flown ; And summer mist, in dewy balm, Steep'd heathy bank, and mossy stone. The moon, half hid in silvery flakes. Afar her dubious radiance shed, Quivering on Katrine's distant lakes. And resting on Benledi's head. Now in their hut, in social guise. Their sylvan fare the chiefs enjoy ; And pleq^sure laughs in Ronald's eyes. As many a pledge he quaff's to Moy. 379 " What lack we here to crown our bliss. While thus the pulse of joy beats high ? What, but fair woman's yielding kiss. Her panting breath, and melting eye ? *' To chase the deer of yonder shades. This morning left their father's pile The fairest of our mountain maids. The daughters of the proud Glengyle. '^ Long have I sought sweet Mary's heart. And dropp'd the tear, and heav'd the sigh But vain the lover's wily art. Beneath a sister's watchful eye. " But thou may'st teach that guardian fair. While far with Mary I am flown. Of other hearts to cease her care. And find it hard to guard her own. " Touch but thy harp, thou soon shalt see The lovely Flora of Glengyle, Unmindful of her charge and me. Hang on thy notes, 'twixt tear and smile. ; 380 " Or, if she choose a melting tale. All underneath the greenwood bough. Will good St Oran's rule prevail. Stern huntsman of the rigid brow ?" " Since Enrick's fight, since Morna's death, No more on me shall rapture rise ; Responsive to the panting breath. Or yielding kiss, or melting eyes. " E'en then, when o'er the heath of woe, Whcfe sunk my hopes of love and fame, I bade my harp's wild wailings flow. On me the seer's sad spirit came. " The last dread curse of angry heaven. With ghastly sights, and sounds of woe. To dash each glimpse of joy, was given The gift, the future ill to know. " The bark thou saw'st, yon summer morn. So gaily part from Oban's bay. My eye beheld her dash'd and torn. Far on the rocky Colonsay. 381 " Thy Fergus too thy sister's son. Thou saw'st with pride the gallant's power. As, marching 'gainst the lord of Downe, He left the skirts of huoje Benmore. " Thou only saw'st their tartans * wave. As down Benvoirlich's side they wound : Heard'st but the pibroch f, answering brave To many a target clanking round. " I heard the groans, I mark'd the tears, I saw the wound his bosom bore. When on the serried Saxon spears He pour'd his clan's resistless roar. *' And thou, who bidst me think of bliss, And bidst my heart awake to glee. And court, like thee, the wanton kiss That heart, O Ronald, bleeds for thee ! Tartans.' 'The full Highland dress, made of the checquered stuff so termed. f- Pii>roc/i.>A piece of martial music adapted to the Highland bag- pipe. 382 " I see the death damps chill thy brow; I hear thy warning spirit cry ; The corpse-lights dance they're gone, and now. . . . ! No more is given to gifted eye !" " Alone enjoy thy dreary dreams. Sad prophet of the evil hour ! Say, should we scorn joy's transient beams, Because to-morrow's storm mav lour ? " Or false, or sooth, thy words of woe, Clangillian's chieftain ne'er shall fear; His blood shall bound at rapture's glow. Though dooni'd to stain the Saxon spear. " E'en now, to meet me in yon dell. My Mary's buskins brush the dew ;" He spoke, nor bade the chief farewell. But call'd his dogs, and gay withdrew. Within an hour return'd each hound; In rush'd the rouzers of the deer ; They howl'd in melancholy sound. Then closely couch'd beside the seer. 383 No Ronald yet ; though midnight came. And sad were Moy's prophetic dreams. As, bending o'er the dying flame. He fed the watch-fire's quivering gleams. Sudden the hounds erect their ears. And sudden cease their moaning howl ; Close press'd to Moy, they mark their fears By shivering limbs, and stifled growl. Untouch'd, the harp began to ring, \ As softly, slowly, oped the door ; \ And shook responsive every string, As light a footstep press'd the floor. And by the watch-fire's glimmering light. Close by the minstrel's side was seen An huntress maid, in beauty bright. All dropping wet her robes of green. All dropping wet her garments seem; Chill'd was her cheek, her bosom bare, As, bending o'er the dying gleam. She wrung the moisture from her hair. 384 With maiden blush she softly said^ " O gentle huntsman, hast thou seen. In deep Glenfinlas' moon-light glade, A lovely maid in vest of green : " With her a chief in Highland pride ; His shoulders bear the hunter's bow. The mountain dirk adorns his side. Far on the wind his tartans flow V " And who art thou ? and who are they ?" All ghastly gazing, Moy replied : " And why, beneath the moon's pale ray. Dare ye thus roam Glenfinlas' side ?" " Where wild Loch Katrine pours her tide. Blue, dark, and deep, round many an isle. Our father's towers o'erhang her side. The castle of the bold Giengyle. " To chase the dun Glenfinlas deer. Our woodland course this morn we bore. And haply met, while wandering here. The son of great Macgiihanore. 385 *' O aid me, then, to seek the pair. Whom loitering in the woods I lost; Alone, I dare not venture there. Where walks, they say, the shrieking ghost." " Yes, many a shrieking ghost walks there ; i Then first, my own sad vow to keep. Here will I pour my midnight prayer. Which still must rise when mortals sleep." " O first, for pity's gentle sake. Guide a lone wanderer on her way ! For I must cross the haunted brake. And reach my father's towers ere day." " First, three times tell each Ave-bead, And thrice a Pater-noster say ; Then kiss with me the holy reed : So shall we safely wind our way." " O shame to knighthood, strange and foul ' Go, doff the bonnet from thy brow. And shroud thee in the monkish cowl. Which best befits thy sullen vow. Vol. IL B b 386 " Not so, by high Dunlathmon's fire. Thy heart was froze to faith and joy, When gaily rung thy raptured lyre. To wanton Morna's melting eye." Wild stared the minstrel's eyes of flame. And high his sable locks arose. And quick his colour went and came. As fear and rage alternate rose. '* And thou ! when by the blazing oak I lay, to her and Jove resign'd. Say, rode ye on the eddying smoke, Or sailed ye on the midnight wind ! " Not thine a race of mortal blood. Nor old Glengyle's pretended line ; I Thy dame, the Lady of the Flood, \ Thy sire, the Monarch of the Mine."- He mutter'd thrice St Oran's rhyme. And thrice St Fiilan's powerful prayer; Then turn'd him to the eastern clime. And sternly shook his coal-black hair. 387 And, bending o'er his harp, he flung His wildest witch-notes on the wind ; And loud, and high, and strange, they rung. As many a magic change they find. Tall wax'd the spirit's altering form. Till to the roof her stature grew ; Then, mingling with the rising storm. With one wild yell, away she flew. Rain beats, hail rattles, whirlwinds tear ; The slender hut in fragments flew ; But not a lock of Moy's loose hair Was waved by wind, or wet by dew. Wild mingling with the howling gale. Loud bursts of ghastly laughter rise ; High o'er the minstrel's head they sail, And die amid the northern skies. The voice of thunder shook the wood. As ceased the more than mortal yell ; And, spattering foul, a shower of blood Upon the hissing firebrands fell. B b 2 388 Next, dropp'd from high a mangled arm ; The fingers strain 'd an half-drawn blade : And last, the life-blood streaming warm. Torn from the trunk, a gasping head. Oft o'er that head, in battling field. Streamed the proud crest of high Benmore That arm the broad claymore could wield. Which dyed the Teith with Saxon gore. Woe to Moneira's sullen rills ! Woe to Glenfinlas' dreary glen ! There never son of Albin's hilJs Shall draw the hunter's shaft agen ! E'en the tired pilgrim's burning feet At noon shall shun that sheltering den. Lest, journeying in their rage, he meet The wayward Ladies of the Glen. And we behind the chieftain's shield, No more shall we in safety dwell ; None leads the people to the field And we the loud lament must swell. 389 O hone a rie' ! O hone a rie' ! The pride of Albin's line is o'er ; And fallen Glenartney's stateliest tree ; We ne'er shall see Lord Ronald more ! 390 NOTES GLENFINLAS. fTell can the Saxon widows tell, SfC. P. 376, Verse 2. The term Sassenach, or Saxon, is applied by the Highlanders to their Low-country neighbours. How blazed Lord Ronald's beltane free. P. S76, Verse 3. The fires lighted by the Highlanders on the first of May, in com- pliance with a custom derived from the Pagan times, are termed the beltane tree. It is a festival celebrated wfith various superstitious rites, both in the north of Scotland and in Wales. The seer's prophetic spirit found, SfC. P. 377' Verse 1. I can only describe the second sight, by adopting Dr Johnson's de- finition,' who calls it " An impression either by the mind upon the eye, " or by the eye upon the mind, by which things distant and future are ** perceived and seen as if they were present." To which I would on- ly add, that the spectral appearances, thus presented, usually presage misfortune j that the faculty is painful to those who suppose they pos- sess it ; and that they usually acquire it while themselves under the pressure of melancholy. 391 Will good St Oran's rule prevail. P. 380, Verse 1. St Oran was a friend and follower of St Columba, and was buried in Icolmkill. His pretensions to be a saint were rather dubious. According to the legend, he consented to be buried alive, in order to propitiate certain daemons of the soil, who obstructed the attempts of Columba to build a chapel. Columba caused the body of his friend to be dug up, after three days had elapsed; when Oran, to the horror and scandal of the assistants, declared, that there was neither a God, a judgment, nor a future state ! He had no time to make fur- ther discoveries, for Columba caused the earth once more to be sho- velled over him with the utmost dispatch. The chapel, however, and the cemetery, was called Reillg Ouran ; and, in memory of his rigid celibacy, no female was permitted to pay her devotions, or be buried, in that place. This is the rule alluded to in the poem. And thrice St Fillan's powerful prayer. P. 386, Verse 5. St Fill an has given his name to many chapels, holy fountains, &c. in Scotland. He was, according to Camerarius, an abbot of Pittenweem, in Fife ; from which situation he retired, and died a her- mit in the wilds of Glenurchy, A. D. 649. While engaged in trans- cribing the scriptures, his left hand was observed to send forth such a splendour, as to afford light to that with which he wrote ; a miracle which saved many candles to die convent, as St Fill an used to spend whole nights in that exercise. Lesley, lib. 7, tells us, that Robert the Bruce was possessed of this miraculous and luminous arm, which he inclosed in a silver shrine, and had if carried at the head of his army. Previous to the battle of Bannoi kburn, the king's chaplain, a man of little faith, abstracted the relicjue, and deposited it in some place of security, least it should fall into the hands of the English. But lo ! while Robert was addressing his prayers to the empty cas- ket, it was observed to open and shut suddenly ; and, on inspection, the saint was found to have himself deposited his arm in the shrine, as an assurance of victory. Such is the tale of Lesley. But the Bruce little needed that the arm of St Fillan should assist his own. The reader will not be displeased to peruse the following highly poe- al account of a Scotish superstition, similar in its general spirit to 392 the tale of Gknfinlai, and still more closely approaching to the JVild Huntsmen of the Germans. The verses are extracted from a descrip- tive poem, entituled Albania, published at Aberdeen, in the year 1757. The poem itself is now almost forgotten, though containing some pas- sages of great merit. The editor has been favoured with the inspection of the only copy known to be extant, belonging to the learned and well known Dr Beattie of Aberdeen. " E'er since, of old, the haughty Thanes of Ross (So to the simple swain tradition tells,) Were wont, with clans and ready vassals throng'd. To wake the bounding stag and guilty wolf j There oft is heard, at midnight or at noon. Beginning faint, but rising still more loud And nearer, voice of huntsmen and of hounds. And horns, hoarse winded, blowing far and keen. Forthwith the hubbub multiplies ; the gale Labours with wilder shrieks, and rifer din Of hot pursuit ; the broken cry of deer. Mangled by throttling dogs, the shouts of men. And hoofs thick beating on the hollow hill. Sudden the grazing heifer, in the vale. Starts at the tumult, and the herdsman's ears Tingle with inward dread : aghast, he eyes The mountain's height, and all the ridges round, Yet not a trace of living wight discerns ; Nv>r knows, o'erawtd and trembling as he stands. To what or whom he owes his idle fear. To ghost, to witch, to fairy, or to fiend ; But wonders, and no end of wondering findi. END OF VOLUME SECOND. ERRATA. Vol. II. Page 4, St. I, line 4, for ** while," read " loAite." 161, line 6, for <* Lord Chief Justice Clerk," read " Lord Justice Clerk.'''' 166, St. 3, line 3, for frith," read />;>^." 177, note, line 4, for Fordun," read " the Contlnuator of Fordun" 328, line 8, from the bottom, dele " and.'''' 'coQ,-rv OF CA' IFOi-NIA AT I OS '-r- QL JAN 11/2000 3 1158 00091 5628 [iC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY A A 000 068 333 4