k 


 
 THE 
 
 LAY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE LAST MINSTREL, 
 
 IN SIX CANTOS.
 
 THE 
 
 LAY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE LAST MINSTREL, 
 
 A POEM; 
 
 BY 
 
 WALTER SCOTT, ESQ. 
 
 Dum relego, scripsisse pudet, qula plurima cerno, 
 Me quogue, qui fed, judice, digna lini. 
 
 THE FIFTH EDITION. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME, 
 PATERNOSTER-ROW, AND A. CONSTABLE AND CO. EDINBURGH; 
 
 By James Ballantyne # Co. Edinburgh. 
 1806.
 
 F 
 
 TO THE 
 RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 CHARLES, 
 EARL OF DALKEITH, 
 
 THIS 
 
 POEM IS INSCRIBED 
 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 THE Poem, now offered to the Public, is intended to 
 illustrate the customs and manners, ivhich anciently pre- 
 vailed on the Borders of England and Scotland, The 
 inhabitants, living in a state partly pastoral and part- 
 ly warlike, and combining habits of constant depredation 
 with the injluence of a rude spirit of chivaby, were often 
 engaged in scenes, highly susceptible of poetical ornament. 
 As the description of scenery and manners was more t/ie 
 object of the Author, than a combined and regular narra- 
 tive, the plan of the ancient Metrical Romance was adopt- 
 ed, which allows greater latitude, in this respect, than 
 would be consistent with the dignity of a regular Poem. 
 The same model offered other facilities, as it permits an 
 occasional alteration of measure, which, in some degree, 
 authorises the change ofrythm in the text. The machine- 
 ry also, adopted from "popular belief, would have seemed 
 puerile in a Poem, which did not partake of the rudeness 
 of the old Ballad, or Metrical Romance. 
 
 For these reasons, the Poem was put into the mouth of 
 an ancient Minstrel, the last of the race, who, as he is sup- 
 posed to have survived the Revolution, might have caught 
 somewhat of the refinement of modern poetry, without lo- 
 sing the simplicity of his original model. The date of 
 the Tale itself is about the middle of the sixteenth century, 
 when most of the personages actually flourished. The time 
 occupied by the action is three Nights and three Days.
 
 THE 
 
 LAY .-;-. ' % 
 
 . #;- 1. 
 
 OF 
 
 THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 CANTO FIRST.
 
 f
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 THE way was long, the wind was cold, 
 The Minstrel was infirm and old ; 
 His withered cheek, and tresses gray, 
 Seemed to have known a better day ; 
 The harp, his sole remaining joy, 
 Was carried by an orphan boy ; 
 The last of all the bards was he, 
 Who sung of Border chivalry. 
 For, well-a-day ! their date was fled, 
 His tuneful brethren all were dead ; 
 And he, neglected and oppressed, 
 Wished to be with them, and at rest. 
 No more, on prancing palfrey borne, 
 He carolled, light as lark at morn ;
 
 12 
 
 No longer courted and caressed, 
 
 High placed in hall, a welcome guest, 
 
 He poured, to lord and lady gay, 
 
 The unpremeditated lay : 
 
 Old times were changed, old manners gone; 
 
 A stranger filled the Stuarts' throne ; 
 
 The bigots of the iron time 
 
 Had called his harmless art a crime. 
 
 A wandering Harper, scorned and poor, 
 
 He begged his bread from door to door; 
 
 And tuned, to please a peasant's ear, 
 
 The harp, a king had loved to hear. 
 
 He passed where Newark's stately tower 
 Looks out from Yarrow's birchen bower : 
 The Minstrel gazed with wishful eye 
 No humbler resting-place was nigh. 
 With hesitating step, at last, 
 The embattled portal-arch ne passed,
 
 13 
 
 Whose ponderous grate and massy bar 
 Had oft rolled back the tide of war, 
 But never closed the iron door 
 Against the desolate and poor. 
 The Duchess * marked his weary pace, 
 His timid mein, and reverend face, 
 And bade her page the menials tell, 
 That they should tend the old man well : 
 For she had known adversity, 
 Though born in such a high degree ; 
 In pride of power, in beauty's bloom, 
 Had wept o'er Monmouth's bloody tomb ! 
 
 When kindness had his wants supplied, 
 And the old man was gratified, 
 Began to rise his minstrel pride : 
 
 * Anne, Duchess of Buccleuch and Monmonth, represen- 
 tative of the ancient Lords of Buccleuch, and widow of the 
 unfortunate James, Duke of Monmouth, who was beheaded 
 in 1685.
 
 14 
 
 And he began to talk anon, 
 
 Of good Earl Francis, * dead and gone, 
 
 And of Earl Walter, f rest him God ! 
 
 A braver ne'er to battle rode : 
 
 And how full many a tale he knew, 
 
 Of the old warriors of Buccleuch ; 
 
 And, would the noble Duchess deign 
 
 To listen to an old man's strain, 
 
 Though stiff his hand, his voice though weak, 
 
 He thought even yet, the sooth to speak, 
 
 That, if she loved the harp to hear, 
 
 He could make music to her ear. 
 
 The humble boon was soon obtained ; 
 The Aged Minstrel audience gained. 
 But, when he reached the room of state, 
 Where she, with all her ladies, sate, 
 
 * Francis Scott, Earl of Buccleuch, father of the duchess, 
 f Walter, Earl of Buccleuch, grandfather of the duchess, 
 and a celebrated warrior.
 
 15 
 
 Perchance he wished his boon denied : 
 
 For, when to tune his harp he tried, 
 
 His trembling hand had lost the ease, 
 
 Which marks security to please ; 
 
 And scenes, long past, of joy and pain, 
 
 Came wildering o'er his aged brain 
 
 He tried to tune his harp in vain. 
 
 The pitying Duchess praised its chime, 
 
 And gave him heart, and gave him time, 
 
 Till every string's according glee 
 
 Was blended into harmony. 
 
 And then, he said, he would full fain 
 
 He could recal an ancient strain, 
 
 He never thought to sing again. 
 
 It was not framed for village churles, 
 
 But for high dames and mighty earls; 
 
 He had played it to King Charles the Good, 
 
 When he kept court in Holyrood ; 
 
 And much he wished, yet feared, to try 
 
 The long forgotten melody.
 
 16 
 
 Amid the strings his fingers strayed, 
 And an uncertain warbling made, 
 And oft he shook his hoary head. 
 But when he caught the measure wild, 
 The old man raised his face, and smiled ; 
 And lightened up his faded eye, 
 With all a poet's extacy ! 
 In varying cadence, soft or strong, 
 He swept the sounding chords along : 
 The present scene, the future lot, 
 His toils, his wants, were all forgot : 
 Cold diffidence, and age's frost, 
 In the full tide of song were lost ; 
 Each blank, in faithless memory void, 
 The poet's glowing thought supplied ; 
 And, while his harp responsive rung, 
 'Twas thus the LATEST MINSTREL sung.
 
 THE 
 
 LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 CANTO FIRST. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE feast was over in Branksome tower, 
 
 And the Ladye had gone to her secret bower ; 
 
 Her bower, that was guarded by word and by spell, 
 
 Deadly to hear, and deadly to tell 
 
 Jesu Maria, shield us well ! 
 
 No living wight, save the Ladye alone, 
 
 Had dared to cross the threshold stone.
 
 18 
 
 II. 
 
 The tables were drawn, it was idlesse all j 
 
 Knight, and page, and household squire, 
 Loitered through the lofty hall, 
 
 Or crowded round the ample fire : 
 The stag-hounds, weary with the chace, 
 
 Lay stretched upon the rushy floor, 
 And urged, in dreams, the forest race, 
 
 From Teviot-stone to Eskdale-moor. 
 
 III. 
 
 Nine-and-twenty knights of fame 
 
 Hung their shields in Branksome Hall ; 
 Nine-and-twenty squires of name 
 
 Brought them their steeds from bower to stall 
 Nine-and-twenty yeomen tall 
 Waited, duteous, on them all : 
 They were all knights of mettle true, 
 Kinsmen to the bold Buccleuch.
 
 19 
 
 IV. 
 
 Ten of them were sheathed in steel, 
 With belted sword, and spur on heel : 
 They quitted not their harness bright, 
 Neither by day, nor yet by night : 
 
 They lay down to rest 
 
 With corslet laced, 
 Pillowed on buckler cold and hard ; 
 
 They carved at the meal 
 
 With gloves of steel, 
 And they drank the red wine through the helmet 
 
 barred. 
 
 i 
 
 V. 
 
 Ten squires, ten yeomen, mail-clad men, 
 Waited the beck of the warders ten ; 
 Thirty steeds, both fleet and wight, 
 Stood saddled in stable day and night, 
 Barbed with frontlet of steel, I trow, 
 And with Jedwood-axe at saddle-bow;
 
 20 
 
 A hundred more fed free in stall : 
 Such was the custom of Branksome Hall. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Why do these steeds stand ready dight ? 
 Why watch these warriors, armed, by night ? 
 They watch, to hear the blood-hound baying ; 
 They watch, to hear the war-horn braying ; 
 To see St George's red cross streaming, 
 To see the midnight beacon gleaming ; 
 
 They watch, against Southern force and guile, 
 Lest Scroop, or Howard, or Percy's powers, 
 Threaten Branksome's lordly towers, 
 From Warkworth, or Naworth, or merry Carlisle. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Such is the custom of Branksome-Hall. 
 
 Many a valiant- knight is here ; 
 But he, the Chieftain of them all, 
 His sword hangs rusting on the wall, 
 
 Beside his broken spear.
 
 21 
 
 Bards long shall tell, 
 How Lord Walter fell! 
 When startled burghers fled, afar, 
 The furies of the Border war ; 
 When the streets of high Dunedin 
 Saw lances gleam, and falcheons redden, 
 And heard the slogan's * deadly yell 
 Then the Chief of Branksome fell. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Can piety the discord heal, 
 
 Or staunch the death-feud's enmity ? 
 Can Christian lore, can patriot zeal, 
 
 Can love of blessed charity ? 
 No ! vainly to each holy shrine, 
 
 In mutual pilgrimage, they drew ; 
 Implored, in vain, the grace divine 
 
 For chiefs, their own red falchions slew : 
 
 * The war-cry, or gathering word, of a Border clan.
 
 While Cessford owns the rule of Car, 
 While Ettrick boasts the line of Scott, 
 
 The slaughtered chiefs, the mortal jar, 
 
 The havoc of the feudal war, 
 Shall never, never be forgot ! 
 
 IX. 
 
 In sorrow, o'er Lord Walter's bier 
 The warlike foresters had bent ; 
 And many a flower, and many a tear, 
 
 Old Teviot's maids and matrons lent : 
 But o'er her warrior's bloody bier 
 The Ladye dropped nor flower nor tear ! 
 Vengeance, deep-brooding o'er the slain, 
 Had locked the source of softer woe j 
 And burning pride, and high disdain, 
 
 Forbade the rising tear to flow ; 
 Until, amid his sorrowing clan, 
 
 Her son lisped from the nurse's knee 
 " And, if I live to be a man, 
 " My father's death revenged shall be !"
 
 23 
 
 Then fast the mother's tears did seek 
 To dew the infant's kindling cheek. 
 
 X. 
 
 All loose her negligent attire, 
 
 All loose her golden hair. 
 
 6 ' J ii;c ^Miirt;^ 
 
 Hung Margaret o'er her slaughtered sire, 
 
 And wept in wild despair. 
 But not alone the bitter tear 
 
 Had filial grief supplied ; 
 For hopeless love, and anxious fear, 
 
 Had lent their mingled tide : 
 Nor in her mother's altered eye 
 Dared she to look for sympathy. 
 
 Her lover, 'gainst her father's clan, 
 With Car, in arms had stood, 
 
 When Mathouse-burn to Melrose ran, 
 All purple with their blood ; 
 
 And well she knew, her mother dread, 
 
 Before Lord Cranstoun she should wed, 
 
 Would see her on her dying bed.
 
 24 
 
 XL 
 
 Of noble race the Ladye came ; 
 Her father was a clerk of fame, 
 
 Of Bethune's line of Picardie : 
 He learned the art, that none may name, 
 
 In Padua, far beyond the sea. 
 Men said, he changed his mortal frame 
 
 By feat of magic mystery ; 
 For when, in studious mood, he paced 
 
 St Andrew's cloistered hall, 
 His form no darkening shadow traced 
 
 Upon the sunny wall ! 
 
 XII. 
 
 And of his skill, as bards avow, 
 
 He taught that Ladye fair, 
 Till to her bidding she could bow 
 
 The viewless forms of air. 
 And now she sits in secret bower, 
 In old Lord David's western tower,
 
 25 
 
 And listens to a heavy sound, 
 
 That moans the mossy turrets round. 
 
 Is it the roar of Teviot's tide, 
 
 That chafes against the scaur's* red side ? 
 
 Is it the wind, that swings the oaks ? 
 
 Is it the echo from the rocks ? 
 
 What may it be, the heavy sound, 
 
 That moans old Branksome's turrets round f 
 
 XIII. 
 
 At the sullen, moaning sound, 
 
 The ban-dogs bay and howl ; 
 And, from the turrets round, 
 
 Loud whoops the startled owl. 
 In the hall, both squire and knight 
 
 Swore that a storm was near, 
 And looked forth to view the night ; 
 
 But the night was still and clear ! 
 
 * Scaur, a precipitous bank of eartta
 
 26 
 
 XIV, 
 
 From the sound of Teviot's tide, 
 Chafinsr with the mountain's side. 
 
 \~j J 
 
 From the groan of the wind-swung oak, 
 From the sullen echo of the rock, 
 From the voice of the coming storm, 
 
 The Ladye knew it well ! 
 It was the Spirit of the Flood that spoke, 
 
 And he called on the Spirit of the Fell. 
 
 XV. 
 
 RIVER SPIRIT. 
 " Sleep'st thou, brother r" 
 
 MOUNTAIN SPIRIT. 
 
 " Brother, nay 
 On my hills the moon-beams play. 
 From Craik-cross to Skelf hill-pen, 
 By every rill, in every glen, 
 
 Merry elves their morrice pacing, 
 
 To aerial minstrelsy, 
 Emerald rings on brown heath tracing, 
 Trip it deft and merrily.
 
 27 
 
 Up, and mark their nimble feet ! 
 Up, and list their music sweet !" 
 
 XVI. 
 
 RIVER SPIRIT. 
 " Tears of an imprisoned maiden 
 
 Mix with my polluted stream ; 
 Margaret of Branksome, sorrow-laden, 
 
 Mourns beneath the moon's pale beam. 
 Tell me, thou, who viewest the stars, 
 When shall cease these feudal jars? 
 What shall be the maiden's fate ? 
 Who shall be the maiden's mate I" 
 
 XVII. 
 
 MOUNTAIN SPIRIT. 
 " Arthur's slow wain his course doth roll, 
 In utter darkness, round the pole ; 
 The Northern Bear lowers black and grim ; 
 Orion's studded belt is dim ;
 
 28 
 
 Twinkling faint, and distant far, 
 Shimmers through mist each planet star ; 
 
 111 may I read their high decree : 
 But no kind influence deign they shower 
 On Teviot's tide, and Branksome's tower, 
 
 Till pride be quelled, and love be free." 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 The unearthly voices ceast, 
 
 And the heavy sound was still ; 
 It died on the river's breast, 
 
 It died on the side of the hill. 
 But round Lord David's tower 
 
 The sound still floated near ; 
 For it rung in the Ladye's bower, 
 
 And it rung in the Ladye's ear. 
 She raised her stately head, 
 
 And her heart throbbed high with pride 
 " Your mountains shall bend, 
 And your streams ascend, 
 
 Ere Margaret be our foeman's bride !"
 
 29 
 XIX. 
 
 The Ladye sought the lofty hall, 
 
 Where many a bold retainer lay, 
 And, with jocund din, among them all, 
 
 Her son pursued his infant play. 
 A fancied moss-trooper, the hoy 
 
 The truncheon of a spear bestrode, 
 And round the hall, right merrily, 
 
 In mimic foray* rode. 
 Even bearded knights, in arms grown old, 
 
 Share in his frolic gambols bore, 
 Albeit their hearts, of rugged mould, 
 
 Were stubborn as the steel they wore. 
 For the gray warriors prophesied, 
 
 How the brave boy, in future war, 
 Should tame the Unicorn's pride, 
 
 Exalt the Crescents and the Star.f 
 
 * Foray, a predatory inroad. 
 
 t Alluding to the armorial bearings of the Scotts and 
 Cars.
 
 so 
 
 XX. 
 
 The Ladye forgot her purpose high, 
 
 One moment, and no more ; 
 One moment gazed with a mother's eye, 
 
 As she paused at the arched door : 
 Then, from amid the armed train, 
 She called to her William of Deloraine. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 A stark moss-trooping Scott was he, 
 As e'er couched border lance by knee : 
 Through Solway sands, through Tarras moss, 
 Blindfold, he knew the paths to cross ; 
 By wily turns, by desperate bounds, 
 Had baffled Percy's best blood-hounds ; 
 In Eske, or Liddel, fords were none, 
 But he would ride them, one by one ; 
 Alike to him was time or tide, 
 December's snow, or July's pride ; 
 Alike to him was tide, or time, 
 Moonless midnight, or matin prime :
 
 31 
 
 Steady of heart, and stout of hand, 
 As ever drove prey from Cumberland ; 
 Five times outlawed had he been, 
 By England's king, and Scotland's queen. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " Sir William of Deloraine, good at need. 
 Mount thee on the wightest steed ; 
 Spare not to spur, nor stint to ride, 
 Until thou come to fair Tweedside ; 
 And in Melrose's holy pile 
 Seek thcu the Monk of St Mary's aisle. 
 Greet the Father well from me ; 
 
 Say, that the fated hour is come, 
 And to-night he shall watch with thee, 
 
 To win the treasure of the tomb : 
 For this will be St Michael's night, 
 And, though stars be dim, the moon is bright; 
 And the Cross, of bloody red, 
 Will point to the grave of the mighty dead.
 
 32 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 w What he gives thee, see thou keep ; 
 Stay not thou for food or sleep : 
 Be it scroll, or be it book, 
 Into it, knight, thou must not look ; 
 If thou readest, thou art lorn ! 
 Better had'st thou ne'er been bora." 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " O swiftly can speed my dapple-gray steed, 
 
 Which drinks of the Teviot clear ; 
 Ere break of day," the warrior 'gan say, 
 
 " Again will I be here : 
 And safer by none may thy errand be done, 
 
 Than, noble dame, by me ; 
 Letter nor line know I never a one, 
 
 Wer't my neck-verse at Hairibee." * 
 
 * Hairibee, the place of executing the Border marauders at 
 Carlisle. The neck-verse is the beginning of the 51st psalm, 
 Miserere mei, &c. anciently read by criminals , claiming the 
 benefit of clergy.
 
 33 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Soon in his saddle sate he fast, 
 And soon the steep descent he past, 
 Soon crossed the sounding barbican, * 
 And soon the Teviot side he won. 
 Eastward the wooded path he rode ; 
 Green hazels o'er his basnet nod : 
 He passed the Peel -f- of Goldiland, 
 And crossed old Borthwick's roaring strand ; 
 Dimly he viewed the Moat-hill's mound, 
 Where Druid shades still flitted round : 
 In Hawick twinkled many a light ; 
 Behind him soon they set in night ; 
 And soon he spurred his courser keen 
 Beneath the tower of Hazeldean. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 The clattering hoofs the watchmen mark ; 
 " Stand, ho ! thou courier of the dark." 
 
 * Barbican, the defence of the outer gate of a feudal castle, 
 t Peel, a Border tower. 
 
 C
 
 34 
 
 <e For Branksome, ho !" the knight rejoined, 
 And left the friendly tower behind. 
 He turned him now from Teviotside, 
 
 And, guided by the tinkling rill, 
 Northward the dark ascent did ride, 
 
 And gained the moor at Horseliehill , 
 Broad on the left before him lay, 
 For many a mile, the Roman way.* 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 A moment now he slacked his speed, 
 A moment breathed his panting steed ; 
 Drew saddle-girth and corslet-band, 
 And loosened in the sheath his brand. 
 On Minto-crags the moon-beams glint, 
 Where Barnhill hewed his bed of flint ; 
 Who flung his outlawed limbs to rest, 
 Where falcons hang their giddy nest, 
 Mid cliffs, from whence his eagle eye 
 For many a league his prey could spy; 
 
 * An ancient Roman road, crossing through part of Rox- 
 burghshire.
 
 35 
 
 Cliffs, doubling, on their echoes borne, 
 
 The terrors of the robber's horn ; 
 
 Cliffs, which, for many a later year, 
 
 The warbling Doric reed shall hear, 
 
 When some sad swain shall teach the grove, 
 
 Ambition is no cure for love. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Unchallenged, thence past Deloraine 
 To ancient Riddel's fair domain, 
 
 Where Aill, from mountains freed, 
 Down from the lakes did raving come ; 
 Each wave was crested with tawny foam, 
 
 Like the mane of a chesnut steed. 
 In vain ! no torrent, deep or broad, 
 Might bar the bold moss-trooper's road. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 At the first plunge the horse sunk low, 
 And the water broke o'er the saddle-bow ;
 
 36 
 
 Above the foaming tide, I ween, 
 
 Scarce half the charger's neck was seen ; 
 
 For he was barded * from counter to tail, 
 
 And the rider was armed complete in mail ; 
 
 Never heavier man and horse 
 
 Stemmed a midnight torrent's force. 
 
 The warrior's very plume, I say, 
 
 Was daggled by the dashing spray ; 
 
 Yet, through good heart, and Our Ladye's grace, 
 
 At length he gained the landing place. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Now Bowden Moor the march-man won, 
 And sternly shook his plumed head. 
 
 As glanced his eye o'er Halidon ; f 
 For on his soul the slaughter red 
 
 * Barded, or barbed, applied to a horse accoutered with 
 defensive armour. 
 t Halidon-hill, on which the battle of Melrose was fought. .
 
 37 
 
 Of that unhallowed morn arose, 
 When first the Scott and Car were foes ; 
 When royal James beheld the fray, 
 Prize to the victor of the day ; 
 When Home and Douglas, in the van, 
 Bore down Buccleuch's retiring clan, 
 Till gallant Cessford's heart-blood dear 
 Reeked on dark Elliot's Border spear. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 In bitter mood he spurred fast, 
 And soon the hated heath was past ; 
 And far beneath, in lustre wan, 
 Old Melros' rose, and fair Tweed ran : 
 Like some tall rock, with lichens gray, 
 Seemed, dimly husje, the dark Abbaye. 
 When Hawick he passed, had curfew rung, 
 Now midnight lauds* were in Melrose sung. 
 
 * Lauds, the midnight service of the Catholic church.
 
 38 
 
 The sound, upon the fitful gale, 
 
 In solemn wise did rise and fail, 
 
 Like that wild harp, whose magic tone 
 
 Is wakened by the winds alone. 
 
 But when Melrose he reached, 'twas silence all ; 
 
 He meetly stabled his steed in stall, 
 
 And sought the convent's lonely wall. 
 
 HERE paused the harp ; and with its swell 
 The Master's fire and courage fell : 
 Dejectedly, and low, he bowed, 
 And, gazing timid on the crowd, 
 He seemed to seek, in every eye, 
 If they approved his minstrelsy ; 
 And, diffident of present praise, 
 . Somewhat he spoke of former days, 
 And how old age, and wandering long, 
 Had done his hand and harp some wrong.
 
 39 
 
 The Duchess, and her daughters fair, 
 And every gentle ladye there, 
 Each after each, in due degree, 
 Gave praises to his melody ; 
 His hand was true, his voice was clear, 
 And much they longed the rest to hear. 
 Encouraged thus, the Aged Man, 
 After meet rest, again began.
 
 ' ! 

 
 THE 
 
 LAY 
 
 OP 
 
 THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 CANTO SECOND.
 
 THE 
 
 LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 CANTO SECOND. 
 
 I. 
 
 IF thou would'st view fair Mel rose aright, 
 Go visit it by the pale moon-light ; 
 For the gay beams of lightsome day 
 Gild, but to flout, the ruins gray. 
 When the broken arches are black in night, 
 And each shafted oriel glimmers white ; 
 When the cold light's uncertain shower 
 Streams on the ruined central tower ;
 
 44 
 
 When buttress and buttress, alternately, 
 
 Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; 
 
 When silver edges the imagery, 
 
 And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die ; 
 
 When distant Tweed is heard to rave, 
 
 And the owlet to hoot o'er the dead man's grave, 
 
 Then go but go alone the while 
 
 Then view St David's ruined pile ; 
 
 And, home returning, soothly swear, 
 
 Was never scene so sad and fair ! 
 
 II. 
 
 Short halt did Deloraine make there ; 
 Little recked he of the scene so fair. 
 With dagger's hilt, on the wicket strong, 
 He struck full loud,, and struck full long. 
 The porter hurried to the gate 
 " Who knocks so loud, and knocks so late ?" 
 " From Branksome I," the warrior cried ; 
 And strait the wicket opened wide :
 
 45 
 
 For Branksome's chiefs had in battle stood, 
 To fence the rights of fair Melrose ; 
 
 And lands and livings, many a rood, 
 
 Had gifted the shrine for their souls' repose. 
 
 III. 
 
 Bold Deloraine his errand said ; 
 The porter bent his humble head ; 
 With torch in hand, and feet unshod, 
 And noiseless step, the path he trod : 
 The arched cloisters, far and wide, 
 Rang to the warrior's clanking stride ; 
 Till, stooping low his lofty crest, 
 He entered the cell of the ancient priest, 
 And lifted his barred aventayle,* 
 To hail the Monk of St Mary's aisle. 
 
 * Aventayk, visor of the helmet.
 
 46 
 
 IV. 
 
 " The Ladye of Branksome greets thee by me ; 
 
 Says, that the fated hour is come, 
 And that to-night I shall watch with thee, 
 
 To win the treasure of the tomb." 
 From sackcloth couch the Monk arose. 
 
 With toil his stiffened limbs he reared ; 
 A hundred years had flung their snows 
 
 On his thin locks and floating beard. 
 
 * *- "', - >>> t i * 
 
 V. 
 
 And strangely on the Knight looked he, 
 
 And his blue eyes gleamed wild and wide ; 
 " And, dar'st thou, warrior ! seek to see 
 
 What heaven and hell alike would hide ? 
 My breast, in belt of iron pent, 
 
 With shirt of hair and scourge of thorn ; 
 For threescore years, in penance spent, 
 
 My knees those flinty stones have worn ;
 
 47 
 
 Yet all too little to atone 
 For knowing what should ne'er be known. 
 Would'st thou thy every future year 
 
 In ceaseless prayer and penance drie, 
 Yet wait thy latter end with fear 
 Then, daring warrior, follow me !" 
 
 VI. 
 
 ee Penance, father, will I none ; 
 
 Prayer know I hardly one ; 
 
 For mass or prayer can I rarely tarry, 
 
 Save to patter an Ave Mary, 
 
 When I ride on a Border foray : 
 
 Other prayer can I none ; 
 
 So speed me my errand, and let me begone." 
 
 VII. 
 
 Again on the Knight looked the Churchman old, 
 
 And again he sighed heavily ; 
 For he had himself been a warrior bold, 
 
 And fought in Spain and Italy.
 
 48 
 
 And he thought on the days that were long since by, 
 When his limbs were strong, and his courage was 
 
 high : 
 Now, slow and faint, he led the way, 
 
 Where, cloistered round, the garden lay ; 
 
 The pillared arches were over their head, 
 And beneath their feet were the bones of the dead. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Spreading herbs, and flowerets bright, 
 Glistened with the dew of night; 
 Nor herb, nor floweret, glistened there, 
 But was carved in the cloister-arches as fair. 
 The Monk gazed long on the lovely moon, 
 
 Then into the night he looked forth ; 
 And red and bright the streamers light 
 Were dancing in the glowing north. 
 So had he seen, in fair Castile, 
 
 The youth in glittering squadrons start ; 
 Sudden the flying jennet wheel, 
 And hurl the unexpected dart
 
 49 
 
 He knew, by the streamers that shot so bright, 
 That spirits were riding the northern light. 
 
 IX. 
 
 By a steel-clenched postern door, 
 
 They entered now the chancel tall ; 
 The darkened roof rose high aloof 
 
 On pillars, lofty, and light, and small ; 
 The key-stone, that locked each ribbed aisle, 
 Was a fleur-de-lys, or a quatre-feuille ; 
 The corbells* were carved grotesque and grim ; 
 And the pillars, with clustered shafts so trim, 
 With base and with capital flourished around, 
 Seemed bundles of lances which garlands had bound, 
 
 X. 
 
 Full many a scutcheon and banner, riven, 
 Shook to the cold night-wind of heaven, 
 
 * Corbells, the projections from which the arches spring,, 
 usually cut in a fantastic face, or mask.
 
 50 
 
 Around the screened altar's pale ; 
 And there the dying lamps did burn, 
 Before thy low and lonely urn, 
 O gallant Chief of Otterburne, 
 
 And thine, dark Knight of Liddesdale ! 
 O fading honours of the dead ! 
 O high ambition, lowly laid ! 
 
 4 1. 1 -. Mtvj 
 
 XI. 
 
 The moon on the east oriel shone, 
 Through slender shafts of shapely stone, 
 
 By foliaged tracery combined ; 
 Thou would'st have thought some fairy's hand 
 Twixt poplars straight the ozier wand, 
 
 In many a freakish knot, had twined ; 
 Then framed a spell, when the work was done, 
 And changed the willow-wreaths to stone. 
 
 The silver light, so pale and faint, 
 
 Shewed many a prophet, and many a saint,
 
 51 
 
 Whose image on the glass was dyed ; 
 Full in the midst, his Cross of Red 
 Triumphant Michael brandished, 
 
 And trampled the Apostate's pride. 
 The moon-beam kissed the holy pane, 
 And threw on the pavement a bloody stain. 
 
 c 9SfnJ Hi fc:iHrr6iMM psffltfr? ,*.rtovffi 
 
 XII. 
 
 They sate them down on a marble stone, 
 
 A Scottish monarch slept below; 
 Thus spoke the Monk, in solemn tone : 
 
 " I was not always a man of woe : 
 For Paynim countries I have trod, 
 And fought beneath the Cross of God ; 
 Now, strange to my eyes thine arms appear, 
 And their iron clang sounds strange to my ear. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 <( In these far climes, it was my lot 
 To meet the wondrous Michael Scott ;
 
 52 
 
 A wizard of such dreaded fame, 
 That when, in Salamanca's cave, 
 Him listed his magic wand to wave, 
 
 The bells would ring in Notre Dame ! 
 Some of his skill he taught to me ; 
 And, Warrior, I could say to thee 
 The words, that cleft Eildon hills in three, 
 
 And bridled the Tweed with a curb of stone : 
 But to speak them were a deadly sin ; 
 And for having but thought them my heart within, 
 
 A treble penance must be done. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 " When Michael lay on his dying bed, 
 His conscience was awakened ; 
 He bethought him of his sinful deed, 
 And he gave me a sign to come with speed : 
 I was in Spain when the morning rose, 
 But I stood by his bed ere evening close.
 
 53 
 
 The words may not again be said, 
 That he spoke to me, on death-bed laid ; 
 They would rend this Abbaye's massy nave, 
 And pile it in heaps above his grave. 
 
 XV. 
 
 ft I swore to bury his Mighty Book, 
 That never mortal might therein look ; 
 And never to tell where it was hid, 
 Save at his chief of Branksorne's need ; 
 And when that need was past and o'er, 
 Again the volume to restore. 
 I buried him on St Michael's night, 
 When the bell tolled one, and the moon was bright; 
 And I dug his chamber among the dead, 
 When the floor of the chancel was stained red, 
 That his patron's Cross might over him wave, 
 And scare the fiends from the Wizard's grave.
 
 54 
 
 XVI. 
 
 " It was a night of woe and dread, 
 
 When Michael in the tomb I -laid ! 
 
 Strange sounds along the chancel past, 
 
 The banners waved without a blast/' 
 
 Still spoke the Monk, when the bell tolled one !- 
 
 I tell you, that a braver man 
 
 Than William of Deloraine, good at need, 
 
 Against a foe ne'er spurred a steed ; 
 
 Yet somewhat was he chilled with dread, 
 
 And his hair did bristle upon his head. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " Lo, Warrior! now, the Cross of Red 
 Points to the grave of the mighty dead ; 
 Within it burns a wonderous light, 
 To chase the spirits that love the night: 
 That lamp shall bum unquenchably, 
 Until the eternal doom shall be."
 
 55 
 
 Slow moved the Monk to the broad flag-stone, 
 
 Which the bloody Cross was traced upon : 
 
 He pointed to a secret nook ; 
 
 An iron bar the warrior took ; 
 
 And the Monk made a sign with his withered hand, 
 
 The grave's huge portal to expand. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 With beating heart to the task he went ; 
 
 His sinewy frame o'er the grave-stone bent j 
 
 With bar of iron heaved amain, 
 
 Till the toil-drops fell from his brows, like rain, 
 
 It was by dint of passing strength, 
 
 That he moved the massy stone at length. 
 
 I would you had been there, to see 
 
 How the light broke forth so gloriously, 
 
 Streamed upward to the chancel roof, 
 
 And through the galleries far aloof! 
 No earthly flame blazed e'er so bright : 
 It shone like heaven's own blessed light,
 
 56 
 
 And, issuing from the tomb, 
 Shewed the Monk's cowl, and visage pale, 
 Danced on the dark-brow'd Warrior's mail, 
 
 And kissed his waving plume. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Before their eyes the Wizard lay, 
 As if he had not been dead a day. 
 His hoary beard in silver rolled, 
 He seemed some seventy winters old ; 
 
 A palmer's amice wrapped him round, 
 
 With a wrought Spanish baldric bound, 
 Like a pilgrim from beyond the sea : 
 
 His left hand held his Book of Might ; 
 
 A silver cross was in his right ; 
 
 The lamp was placed beside his knee : 
 High and majestic was his look, 
 At which the fellest fiends had shook, 
 And all unruffled was his face : 
 They trusted his soul had gotten grace.
 
 57 
 
 XX. 
 
 Often had William of Deloraine 
 Rode through the battle's bloody plain, 
 And trampled down the warriors slain, 
 
 And neither known remorse or awe ; 
 Yet now remorse and awe he own'd ; 
 His breath came thick, his head swam round, 
 
 When this strange scene of death he saw. 
 Bewildered and unnerved he stood, 
 And the priest prayed fervently, and loud : 
 With eyes averted prayed he ; 
 He might not endure the sight to see, 
 Of the man he had loved so brotherly. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 And when the priest his death-prayer had prayed, 
 
 Thus unto Deloraine he said : 
 
 " Now, speed thee what thou hast to do, 
 
 Or, Warrior, we may dearly rue ;
 
 58 
 
 For those, thou mayest not look upon, 
 
 Are gathering fast round the yawning stone !" 
 
 Then Deloraine, in terror, took 
 
 From the cold hand the Mighty Book, 
 
 With iron clasped, and with iron bound : 
 
 He thought, as he took it, the dead man frowned ; 
 
 But the glare of the sepulchral light, 
 
 Perchance, had dazzled the warrior's sight. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 When the huge stone sunk o'er the tomb, 
 
 The night returned, in double gloom ; 
 
 For the moon had gone down, and the stars were few ; 
 
 And, as the Knight and Priest withdrew, 
 
 With wavering steps and dizzy brain, 
 
 They hardly might the postern gain. 
 
 'Tis said, as through the aisles they passed, 
 
 They heard strange noises on the blast ; 
 
 And through the cloister-galleries small, 
 
 Which at mid-height thread the chancel wall, 
 
 4
 
 59 
 
 Loud sobs, and laughter louder, ran, 
 And voices unlike the voice of man ; 
 As it' the fiends kept holiday, 
 Because these spells were brought to day. 
 I cannot tell how the truth may be ; 
 I say the tale as 'twas said to me. 
 
 XXIH. 
 
 " Now, hie thee hence," the, Father said, 
 " And, when we are on death-bed laid, 
 O may our dear Ladye, and sweet St John, 
 Forgive our souls for the deed we have done !"- 
 
 The Monk returned him to his cell, 
 And many a prayer and penance sped ; 
 
 When the convent met at the noontide bell- 
 
 The Monk of St Mary's aisle was dead ! 
 Before the cross was the body laid, 
 With hands clasped fast, as if still he prayed.
 
 60 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The Knight breathed free in the morning wind, 
 
 And strove his hardihood to find : 
 
 He was glad when he passed the tombstones gray, 
 
 Which girdle round the fair Abbaye ; 
 
 For the mystic Book, to his bosom prest, 
 
 Felt like a load upon his breast ; 
 
 And his joints, with nerves of iron twined, 
 
 Shook, like the aspen leaves in wind. 
 
 Full fain was he when the dawn of day 
 
 Began to brighten Cheviot gray ; 
 
 He joyed to see the chearful light, 
 
 And he said Ave Mary, as well as he might, 
 
 XXV. 
 The sun had brightened Cheviot gray, 
 
 The sun had brightened the Carter's * side ; 
 And soon beneath the rising day 
 
 Smiled Branksome towers and Teviot's tide. 
 
 * A mountain on the border of England, above Jedburgh.
 
 61 
 
 '-. \ 
 
 The wild birds told their warbling tale, 
 
 And wakened every flower that blows; 
 And peeped forth the violet pale, 
 
 And spread her breast the mountain rose. 
 And lovelier than the rose so red, 
 
 Yet paler than the violet pale, 
 She early left her sleepless bed, 
 
 The fairest maid of Teviotdale. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Why does fair Margaret so early awake, 
 
 And don her kirtle so hastilie ; 
 And the silken knots, which in hurry she would make, 
 
 Why tremble her slender fingers to tie ; 
 Why does she stop, and look often around, 
 
 As she glides down the secret stair ; 
 And why does she pat the shaggy blood-hound, 
 
 As he rouses him up from his lair ; 
 And, though she passes the postern alone, 
 Why is not the watchman's bugle blown 2
 
 ftl 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 The ladye steps in doubt and dread, 
 
 Lest her watchful mother hear her tread ; 
 
 The ladye caresses the rough blood-hound, 
 
 Lest his voice should waken the castle round ; 
 
 The watchman's bugle is not blown, 
 
 For he was her foster-father's son ; 
 
 And she glides through the greenwood at dawn of 
 
 light, 
 To meet Baron Henry, her own true knight. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 * 
 
 The Knight and Ladye fair are meti 
 
 And under the hawthorn's boughs are set. . 
 
 A fairer pair were never seen 
 
 To meet beneath the hawthorn green. 
 
 He was stately, and young, and tall ; 
 
 Dreaded in battle, and loved in hall : 
 
 And she, when love, scarce told, scarce hid, 
 
 Lent to her cheek a livelier red ;
 
 63 
 
 When the half sigh her swelling breast 
 Against the silken ribband pressed ; 
 When her blue eyes their secret told, 
 Though shaded by her locks of gold- 
 Where would you find the peerless fair, 
 With Margaret of Branksome might compare ! 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 And now, fair dames, methinks I see 
 You listen to my minstrelsy ; 
 Your waving locks ye backward throw, 
 And sidelong bend your necks of snow : j 
 Ye ween to hear a melting tale, 
 
 1 ^ 
 
 Of two true lovers in a dale ; 
 
 And how the Knight, with tender fire, 
 To paint his faithful passion strove ; 
 Swore, he might at her feet expire, 
 
 But never, never cease to love ; 
 And how she blushed, and how she sighed, 
 And, half consenting, half denied,
 
 64 
 
 And said that she would die a maid ; 
 Yet, might the bloody feud be stayed, 
 Henry of Cranstoun, and only he, 
 Margaret of Branksome's choice should be. 
 ,! 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Alas ! fair dames, your hopes are vain ! 
 My harp has lost the enchanting strain ; 
 
 Its lightness would my age reprove : 
 My hairs are gray> my limbs are old, 
 My heart is dead, my veins are cold : 
 
 I may not, must not, sing of love. 
 
 '?' 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Beneath an oak, mossed o'er by eld, 
 The Baron's Dwarf his courser held, 
 
 And held his crested helm and spear : 
 That Dwarf was scarcely an earthly man, 
 If the tales were true, that of him ran 
 
 Through all the Border, far and near.
 
 65 
 
 'Twas said, when the Baron a-hunting rode 
 Through Reedsdale's glens, but rarely trod, 
 He heard a voice cry, " Lost ! lost ! lost !" 
 And, like tennis-ball by raquet tossed, 
 
 A leap, of thirty feet and three, 
 Made from the gorse this elfin shape, 
 Distorted like some dwarfish ape, 
 
 And lighted at Lord Cranstoun's knee. 
 Lord Cranstoun was some whit dismayed ; 
 'Tis said that five good miles he rade, 
 
 To rid him of his company ; 
 But where he rode one mile, the Dwarf ran four, 
 And the Dwarf was first at the castle door. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Use lessens marvel, it is said. 
 This elfish Dwarf with the Baron staid ; 
 Little he ate, and less he spoke, 
 Nor mingled with the menial flock ; 
 
 E 
 
 V
 
 66 
 
 And oft apart his arms he tossed, 
 And often muttered, " Lost ! lost ! lost !" 
 He was waspish, arch, and litherlie, 
 But well Lord Cranstoun served he : 
 And he of his service was full fain ; . ; 
 For once he had been ta'en or slain, 
 
 An' it had not been his ministry. 
 All, between Home and Hermitage, 
 Talked of Lord Cranstoun's Goblin Page. 
 
 -X.X..X.111. 
 
 For the Baron went on pilgrimage, 
 And took with him this elvish Page, 
 
 To Mary's chapel of the Lowes : 
 For there, beside Our Ladye's lake, 
 An offering he had sworn to make, 
 
 And he would pay his vows. 
 But the Ladye of Branksome gathered a band 
 Of the best that would ride at her command ;
 
 67 
 
 The trysting place was Newark Lee. 
 Wat of Harden came thither amain, 
 And thither came John of Thirlestaine, 
 And thither came William of Deloraine ; 
 
 They were three hundred spears and three. 
 Through Douglas-burn, up Yarrow stream, 
 Their horses prance, their lances gleam. 
 They came to St Mary's lake ere day ; 
 But the chapel was void, and the Baron away. 
 They burned the chapel for very rage, 
 And cursed Lord Cranstoun's Goblin-Page. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 And now, in Branksome's good green wood, 
 
 As under the aged oak he stood, 
 
 The Baron's courser pricks his ears, 
 
 As if a distant noise he hears. 
 
 The Dwarf waves his long lean arm on high, 
 
 And signs to the lovers to part and fly ; 
 
 No time was then to vow or sigh. 
 
 V
 
 68 
 
 Fair Margaret, through the hazel grove, 
 Flew like the startled cushat-dove : * 
 The Dwarf the stirrup held and rein; 
 Vaulted the knight on his steed amain, 
 And, pondering deep that morning's scene, 
 Rode eastward through the hawthorns green. 
 
 WHILE thus he poured the lengthened tale, 
 The Minstrel's voice began to fail : 
 Full slyly smiled the observant page, 
 And gave the withered hand of age 
 A goblet, crowned with mighty wine, 
 The blood of Velez' scorched vine. 
 He raised the silver cup on high, 
 And, while the big drop filled his eye, 
 Prayed God to bless the Duchess long, 
 And all who cheered a son of song. 
 
 ' i 
 * Wood pigeon.
 
 69 
 
 The attending maidens smiled to see, 
 How long, how deep, how zealously, 
 The precious juice the Minstrel quaffed; 
 And he, emboldened by the draught, 
 Looked gaily back to them and laughed. 
 The cordial nectar of the bowl 
 Swelled his old veins, and cheered his soul ; 
 A lighter, livelier prelude ran, 
 Ere thus his tale again began.
 
 THE 
 
 LAY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 CANTO THIRD.
 
 THE 
 
 LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 CANTO THIRD. 
 
 AND said I that my limbs were old; 
 And said I that my blood was cold, 
 And that my kindly fire was fled, 
 And my poor withered heart was dead, 
 
 And that I might not sing of love ? 
 How could I to the dearest theme, a J; 
 That ever warmed a minstrel's dream, 
 
 So foul, so false, a recreant prove. !
 
 How could I name love's very name, 
 Nor wake my heart to notes of flame ! , 
 
 II. 
 
 In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed ; 
 
 In war, he mounts the warrior's steed ; 
 
 In halls, in gay attire is seen ; 
 
 In hamlets, dances on the green. 
 
 Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, 
 
 And men below, and saints above ; 
 
 For love is heaven, and heaven is love. 
 
 III. 
 
 So thought Lord Cranstoun, as I ween, 
 While, pondering deep the tender scene, 
 He rode through Branksome's hawthorn green. 
 
 But the Page shouted wild and shrill 
 And scarce his helmet could he don, 
 
 When downward from the shady hill 
 
 A stately knight came pricking on. 
 7
 
 75 
 
 That warrior's steed, so dapple-gray, 
 
 Was dark with sweat, and splashed with clay ; 
 
 His armour red with many a stain : !->-/ ,j 
 He seemed in such a weary plight, 
 As if he had ridden the live-long night; 
 
 For it was William of Deloraine. 
 
 IV. 
 
 But no whit weary did he seem, 
 
 When, dancing in the sunny beam, 
 
 He marked the crane on the Baron's crest ; 
 
 For his ready spear was in his rest. 
 
 Few were the words, and stern and high, 
 That marked the foemen's feudal hate ; 
 
 For question fierce, and proud reply, 
 
 Gave signal soon of dire debate. 
 Their very coursers seemed to know 
 That each was other's mortal foe; ^ '- 
 And snorted fire, when wheeled around, 
 To give each knight his vantage ground.
 
 76 
 
 V. 
 
 In rapid round the Baron bent ; 
 
 He sighed a sigh, and prayed a prayer : 
 The prayer was to his patron saint, 
 
 The sigh was to his ladye fair. 
 Stout Deloraine nor sighed, nor prayed, 
 Nor saint, nor ladye, called to aid ; 
 But he stooped his head, and couched his spear, 
 And spurred his steed to full career. 
 The meeting of these champions proud 
 Seemed like the bursting thunder-cloud. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Stern was the dint the Borderer lent ! 
 
 The stately Baron backwards bent; 
 
 Bent backwards to his horse's tail, 
 
 And his plumes went scattering on the gale ; 
 
 The tough ash spear, so stout and true, 
 
 Into a thousand flinders flew. 
 
 But Cranstoua's lance, of more avail, 
 
 Pierced through, like silk, the Borderer's mail ;
 
 77 
 
 Through shield, and jack, and acton past, 
 Deep in his bosom broke at last. 
 Still sate the warrior saddle fast, 
 Till, stumbling in the mortal shock, . 
 Down went the steed, the girthing broke, 
 Hurled on a heap lay man and horse. 
 The Baron onward passed his course ; 
 Nor knew so giddy rolled his brain 
 His foe lay stretched upon the plain. 
 
 VII. 
 
 But when he reined his courser round, 
 And saw his foeman on the ground 
 
 Lie senseless as the bloody clay, 
 He bade his Page to staunch the wound, 
 
 And there beside the warrior stay, 
 And tend him in his doubtful state, 
 And lead him to Branksome castle-gate : 
 His noble mind was inly moved 
 For the kinsman of the maid he loved.
 
 78 
 
 " This shalt thou do without delay ; 
 No longer here myself may stay : 
 Unless the swifter I speed away, 
 Short shrift will be at my dying day." 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Away in speed Lord Cranstoun rode; 
 
 The Goblin-Page behind abode : 
 
 His lord's command he ne'er withstood, 
 
 Though small his pleasure to do good. 
 
 As the corslet off he took, 
 
 The Dwarf espied the Mighty Book ! 
 
 Much he marvelled, a knight of pride 
 
 Like a book-bosomed priest should ride : 
 
 He thought not to search or staunch the wound, 
 
 Until the secret he had found. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The iron band, the iron clasp, 
 Resisted long the elfin grasp ;
 
 79 
 
 For when the first he had undone, 
 
 It closed as he the next begun. 
 
 Those iron clasps, that iron band, 
 
 Would not yield to unchristened hand, 
 
 Till he smeared the cover o'er 
 
 With the Borderer's curdled gore; 
 
 A moment then the volume spread, 
 
 And one short spell therein he read. 
 
 It had much of glamour* might, 
 
 Could make a ladye seem a knight ; 
 
 The cobwebs on a dungeon wall 
 
 Seem tapestry in lordly hall ; 
 
 A nut-shell seem a gilded barge, 
 
 A sheelingf seem a palace large, 
 
 And youth seem age, and age seem youth 
 
 All was delusion, nought was truth. 
 
 X. 
 
 He had not read another spell, 
 When on his cheek a buffet fell, 
 
 * Magical delusion. f A shepherd's hut.
 
 80 
 
 So fierce, it stretched him on the plain. 
 
 Beside the wounded Deloraine. 
 
 From the ground he rose dismayed, 
 
 And shook his huge and matted head ; 
 
 One word he muttered, and no more 
 
 " Man of age, thou smitest sore !" 
 
 No more the Elfin Page durst try 
 
 Into the wonderous Book to pry ; 
 
 The clasps, though smeared with Christian gore, 
 
 Shut faster than they were before. 
 
 He hid it underneath his cloak. 
 
 Now, if you ask who gave the stroke, 
 
 I cannot tell, so mot I thrive ; 
 
 It was not given by man alive. 
 
 ' * * 
 
 XI. 
 
 Unwillingly himself he addressed, 
 To do his master's high behest : 
 He lifted up the living corse, 
 And laid it on, the weaiy horse ;
 
 ft, 
 
 81 
 
 He led him into Branksome hall, 
 
 Before the beards of the warders all ; 
 
 And each did after swear and say, 
 
 There only passed a wain of hay. 
 
 He took him to Lord David's tower, 
 
 Even to the Ladye's secret bower ; 
 
 And, but that stronger spells were spread, 
 
 And the door might not be opened, 
 
 He had laid him on her very bed. 
 
 Whate'er he did of gramarye, * 
 
 Was always done maliciously ; 
 
 He flung the warrior on the ground, 
 
 And the blood welled freshly from the wound. 
 
 XII. 
 
 As he repassed the outer court, 
 
 He spied the fair young child at sport : 
 
 He thought to train him to the wood ; 
 
 For, at a word, be it understood, 
 
 He was always for ill, and never for good. 
 
 * Magic. 
 
 f
 
 82 
 
 Seemed to the boy, some comrade gay 
 Led him forth to the woods to play ; 
 On the draw-bridge the warders stout 
 Saw a terrier and lurcher passing out, 
 
 XIII. 
 
 He led the boy o'er bank and fell, 
 
 Until they came to a woodland brook ; 
 The running stream dissolved the spell, 
 
 And his own elvish shape he took. 
 Could he have had his pleasure vilde, 
 He had crippled the joints of the noble child; 
 Or, with his fingers long and lean, 
 Had strangled him in fiendish spleen : 
 But his awful mother he had in dread, 
 And also his power was limited ; 
 So he but scowled on the startled child, 
 And darted through the forest wild ; 
 The woodland brook he bounding crossed, 
 And laughed, and shouted, " Lost ! lost ! lost !"
 
 XIV. 
 
 Full sore amazed at the wonderous change, 
 
 And frightened, as a child might be, 
 At the wild yell and visage strange, 
 
 And the dark words of gramarye, 
 The child, amidst the forest bower, 
 Stood rooted like a lilye flower ; 
 
 And when at length, with trembling pace, 
 He sought to find where Branksome lay, 
 
 He feared to see that grisly face 
 
 Glare from some thicket on his way. 
 Thus, starting oft, he journeyed on, 
 And deeper in the wood is gone, 
 For aye the more he sought his way, 
 The farther still he went astray, 
 Until he heard the mountains round 
 Ring to the baying of a hound.
 
 84 
 
 XV. 
 
 And hark ! and hark ! the deep-mouthed baric 
 
 Comes nigher still, and nigher ; 
 Bursts on the path a dark blood-hound, 
 His tawny muzele tracked the ground, 
 
 And his red eye shot fire. 
 Soon as the wildered child saw he, 
 He flew at him right furiouslie. 
 I ween you would have seen with joy 
 The bearing of the gallant boy, 
 When, worthy of his noble sire, 
 His wet cheek glowed 'twixt fear and ire ! 
 He faced the blood-hound manfully, 
 And held his little bat on high ; 
 So fierce he struck, the dog, afraid, 
 At cautious distance hoarsely bayed, 
 
 But still in act to spring ; 
 When dashed an archer through the glade, 
 And when he saw the hound was stayed, 
 
 He drew his tough bow-string ;
 
 85 
 
 But a rough voice cried, "" Shoot not, hoy ! 
 Ho ! shoot not, Edward 'tis a boy !"- 
 
 XVI. 
 
 The speaker issued from the wood, 
 And checked his fellow's surly mood. 
 
 And quelled the ban-dog's ire : 
 He was an English yeoman good, 
 
 And born in Lancashire. 
 Well could he hit a fallow deer 
 
 Five hundred feet him fro ; 
 With hand more true, and eye more clear, 
 
 No archer bended bow. 
 His coal-black hair, shorn round and close, 
 
 Set off his sun-burned face ; 
 Old England's sign, St George's cross, 
 
 His barret-cap did grace ; 
 His bugle-horn hung by his side, 
 
 All in a wolf-skin baldric tied ; 
 And his short faulchion, sharp and clear, 
 Had pierced the throat of many a deer.
 
 86 
 
 XVII. 
 
 His kirtle, made of forest green, 
 
 Reached scantly to his knee ; 
 And, at his belt, of arrows keen 
 
 A furbished sheaf bore he ; 
 His buckler scarce in breadth a span, 
 
 No longer fence had he ; 
 He never counted him a man, 
 
 Would strike below the knee ; 
 His slackened bow was in his hand, 
 And the leash, that was his blood-hound's band. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 He would not do the fair child harm, 
 But held him with his powerful arm, 
 That he might neither fight nor flee ; 
 For when the Red-Cross spied he, 
 The boy strove long and violently. 
 " Now, by St George," the archer cries, 
 " Edward, methinks we have a prize !
 
 87 
 
 This boy's fair face, and courage free, 
 Shews he is come of high degree." 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " Yes ! I am come of high degree, 
 
 For I am the heir of bold Buccleuch ; 
 And, if thou dost not set me free, 
 
 False Suthron, thou shalt dearly rue ! 
 For Walter of Harden shall come with speed, 
 And William of Deloraine, good at need, 
 And every Scott from Esk to Tweed ; 
 And, if thou dost not let me go, 
 Despite thy arrows, and thy bow, 
 I'll have thee hanged to feed the crow !" 
 
 XX. 
 
 <e Gramercy, for thy good will, fair boy ! 
 My mind was never set so high ; 
 But if thou art chief of such a clan, 
 And art the son of such a man,
 
 And ever comest to thy command, 
 
 Our wardens had need to keep good order : 
 My bow of yew to a hazel wand, 
 
 Thou'lt make them work upon the Border. 
 Meantime, be pleased to come with me, 
 For good Lord Dacre shalt thou see ; 
 I think our work is well begun, 
 When we have taken thy father's son." 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Although the child was led away, 
 In Branksome still he seemed to stay, 
 For so the Dwarf his part did play ; 
 And, in the shape of that young boy, 
 He wrought the castle much annoy. 
 The comrades of the young Buccleuch 
 He pinched, and beat, and overthrew ; 
 Nay, some of them he well nigh slew. 
 He tore Dame Maudlin's silken tire, 
 And, as Sym Hall stood by the fire,
 
 89 'g 
 
 He lighted the match of his bandelier, * 
 And woefully scorched the hackbutteer. f 
 It may hardly be thought or said, 
 The mischief that the urchin made, 
 Till many of the castle guessed, 
 That the young Baron was possessed ! 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Well I ween, the charm he held 
 The noble Ladye had soon dispelled ; 
 But she was deeply busied then 
 To tend the wounded Deloraine. 
 
 Much she wondered to find him lie, 
 On the stone threshold stretched along ; 
 
 She thought some spirit of the sky 
 
 Had done the bold moss-trooper wrong ; 
 Because, despite her precept dread, 
 Perchance he in the Book had read ; 
 
 * Bandelier, belt for carrying ammunition, 
 f Hackbutteer, musketeer.
 
 * 90 
 
 But the broken lance in his bosom stood, 
 And it was earthly steel and wood. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 She drew the splinter from the wound, 
 
 And with a charm she staunched the blood ; 
 
 She bade the gash be cleansed and bound : 
 No longer by his couch she stood ; 
 
 But she has ta'en the broken lance, 
 And washed it from the clotted gore, 
 And salved the splinter o'er and o'er. 
 
 William of Deloraine, in trance, 
 
 Whene'er she turned it round and round, 
 Twisted, as if she galled his wound. 
 Then to her maidens she did say, 
 That he should be whole man and sound, 
 Within the course of a night and day. 
 
 Full long she toiled ; for she did rue 
 
 Mishap to friend so stout and true.
 
 91 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 So passed the day the evening fell, 
 'Twas near the time of curfew bell ; 
 The air was mild, the wind was calm, 
 The stream was smooth, the dew was balm ; 
 E'en the rude watchman, on the tower, 
 Enjoyed and blessed the lovely hour. 
 Far more fair Margaret loved and blessed 
 The hour of silence and of rest. 
 On the high turret sitting lone, 
 She waked at times the lute's soft tone ; 
 Touched a wild note, and all between 
 Thought of the bower of hawthorns green. 
 Her golden hair streamed free from band, 
 Her fair cheek rested on her hand, 
 Her blue eyes sought the west afar, 
 For lovers love the western star. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Is yon the star, o'er Penchryst Pen, 
 That rises slowly to her ken,
 
 92 
 
 And, spreading broad its wavering light, 
 
 Shakes its loose tresses on the night ? 
 
 Is yon red glare the western star ? 
 
 O, 'tis the beacon-blaze of war ! 
 
 Scarce could she draw her tightened breath, 
 
 For well she knew the fire of death ! 
 
 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 The Warder viewed it blazing strong, 
 And blew his war-note loud and long, 
 Till, at the high and haughty sound, 
 Rock, wood, and river, rung around. 
 The blast alarmed the festal hall, 
 And startled forth the warriors all ; 
 Far downward, in the castle-yard, 
 Full many a torch and cresset glared ; 
 And helms and plumes, confusedly tossed, 
 Were in the blaze half-seen, half-lost ; 
 And spears in wild disorder shook, 
 Like reeds beside a frozen brook.
 
 93 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 The Seneschal, whose silver hair 
 
 Was reddened by the torches' glare, 
 
 Stood in the midst, with gesture proud, 
 
 And issued forth his mandates loud. 
 
 " On Penchryst glows a bale * of fire, 
 
 And three are kindling on Priesthaughswire ; 
 
 Ride out, ride out, 
 
 The foe to scout ! 
 
 Mount, mount for Branksome, *j- every man ! 
 Thou, Todrig, warn the Johnstone clan, 
 
 That ever are true and stout. 
 Ye need not send to Liddesdale ; 
 For, when they see the blazing bale, 
 Elliots and Armstrongs never fail. 
 Ride, Alton, ride, for death and life ! 
 And warn the warden of the strife. 
 Young Gilbert, let our beacon blaze, 
 Our kin, and clan, and friends, to raised 
 
 * Bale, beacon-faggot. 
 
 f Mount for Branksome was the gathering word of the Scotts.
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Fair Margaret, from the turret head, 
 Heard, far below, the coursers' tread. 
 
 While loud the harness rung, 
 As to their seats, with clamour dread, 
 
 The ready horsemen sprung ; 
 And trampling hoofs, and iron coats, 
 And leaders' voices, mingled notes, 
 And out ! and out ! 
 In hasty route, 
 
 The horsemen galloped forth ; 
 Dispersing to the south to scout, 
 
 And east, and west, and north, 
 To view their coming enemies, 
 And warn their vassals, and allies. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The ready page, with hurried hand, 
 Awaked the need-fire's * slumbering brand , 
 
 * Need-fire, beacon.
 
 And ruddy blushed the heaven : 
 For a sheet of flame, from the turret high, 
 Waved like a blood-flag on the sky, 
 
 All flaring and uneven ; 
 And soon a score of fires, I ween, 
 From height, and hill, and cliff, were seen ; 
 Each with warlike tidings fraught ; 
 Each from each the signal caught; 
 Each after each they glanced to sight, 
 As stars arise upon the night. 
 They gleamed on many a dusky tarn, * 
 Haunted by the lonely earn ; 
 On many a cairn's gray pyramid, 
 Where urns of mighty chiefs lie hid$ 
 Till high Dunedin the blazes saw, 
 From Soltra and Dumpender Law ; 
 And Lothian heard the Regent's order, 
 That all should bowne |J them for the Border. 
 
 * Tarn, a mountain lake. t Earn, a Scottish eagle. 
 t Cairn, a pile of stones. |j Boztne, -make ready.
 
 96 
 
 XXX. 
 
 The livelong night in Branksome rang 
 
 The ceaseless sound of steel ; 
 The castle-bell, with backward clang, 
 
 Sent forth the larum peal ; 
 Was frequent heard the heavy jar, 
 Where massy stone and iron bar 
 Were piled on echoing keep and tower, 
 To whelm the foe with deadly shower ; 
 Was frequent heard the changing guard, 
 And watch-word from the sleepless ward ; 
 While, wearied by the endless din, 
 Blood-hound and ban-dog yelled within. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 The noble Dame, amid the broil, 
 Shared the gray Seneschal's high toil, 
 And spoke of danger with a smile ; 
 Cheered the young knights, and council sage 
 Held with the chiefs of riper age.
 
 97 
 
 No tidings of the foe were brought, 
 Nor of his numbers knew they ought, 
 Nor in what time the truce he sought. 
 
 Some said, that there were thousands ten > 
 And others weened that it was nought 
 But Leven Clans, or Tynedale men, 
 Who came to gather in black mail ; * 
 And Liddisdale, with small avail, 
 
 Might drive them lightly back agen. 
 So passed the anxious night away, 
 And welcome was the peep of day. 
 
 CEASED the high sound the listening throng 
 Applaud the Master of the Song ; 
 And marvel much, in helpless age, 
 So hard should be his pilgrimage. 
 
 * Protection-money exacted by free-booters. 
 G
 
 98 
 
 Had he no friend no daughter dear, 
 His wandering toil to share and cheer ; 
 No son, to be his father's stay, 
 And guide him on the rugged way ? 
 " Aye ! once he had but he was dead !" 
 Upon the harp he stooped his head, 
 And busied himself the strings withal, 
 To hide the tear, that fain would fall. 
 In solemn measure, soft and slow, 
 Arose a father's notes of woe.
 
 THE 
 
 LAY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 CANTO FOURTH.
 
 THE 
 
 LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 I. 
 
 SWEET Teviot! on thy silver tide 
 The glaring bale-fires blaze no more ; 
 
 No longer steel-clad warriors ride 
 Along thy wild and willowed shore ; 
 
 Where'er thou wind'st by dale or hill, 
 
 All, all is peaceful, all is still,
 
 102 
 
 As if thy waves, since Time was born, 
 Since first they rolled upon the Tweed, 
 Had only heard the shepherd's reed, 
 
 Nor started at the bugle-horn. 
 
 II. 
 
 Unlike the tide of human time, 
 
 Which, though it change in ceaseless flow, 
 
 Retains each grief, retains each crime, 
 
 Its earliest course was doomed to know, 
 And, darker as it downward bears, 
 Is stained with past and present tears. 
 
 Low as that tide has ebbed with me, 
 It still reflects to memory's eye 
 The hour, my brave, my only boy, 
 
 Fell by the side of great Dundee. 
 Why, when the volleying musket played 
 Against the bloody Highland blade, 
 Why was not I beside him laid ! 
 Enough he died the death of fame; 
 Enough he died with conquering Graeme.
 
 103 
 
 III. 
 
 Now over Border dale and fell, 
 
 Full wide and far was terror spread ; 
 For pathless marsh, and mountain cell, 
 
 The peasant left his lowly shed. 
 The frightened flocks and herds were pent 
 Beneath the peel's rude battlement ; 
 And maids and matrons dropped the tear, 
 While ready warriors seized the spear. 
 From Branksome's towers, the watchman's eye 
 Dun wreaths of distant smoke can spy, 
 Which, curling in the rising sun, 
 Shewed southern ravage was begun. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Now loud the heedful gate-ward cried 
 " Prepare ye all for blows and blood ! 
 
 Watt Tinlinn, from the Liddle-side, 
 Comes wading through the flood. 
 
 Full oft the Tynedale snatchers knock 
 
 At his lone gate, and prove the lock ;
 
 It was but last St Barnabright 
 They sieged him a whole summer night, 
 But fled at morning ; well they knew, 
 In vain he never twanged the yew. 
 Right sharp has been the evening shower, 
 That drove him from his Liddle tower ; 
 And, by my faith," the gate-ward said, 
 " I think 'twill prove a Warden-Raid." * 
 
 ./ 
 
 V. 
 
 While thus he spoke, the bold yeoman 
 Entered the echoing barbican. 
 He led a small and shaggy nag, 
 That through a bog, from hag to hag, f 
 Could bound like any Bilhope stag. 
 It bore his wife and children twain ; 
 A half-clothed serf $ was all their train : 
 His wife, stout, ruddy, and dark-browed, 
 Of silver broach and bracelet proud, 
 
 * An inroaa commanded by the Warden in person, 
 f The broken ground in a bog. 
 I Bonds-man.
 
 105 
 
 Laughed to her friends among the crowd. 
 
 He was of stature passing tall, 
 
 But sparely formed, and lean withal : 
 
 A battered morion on his brow ; 
 
 A leathern jack, as fence enow, 
 
 On his broad shoulders loosely hung ; 
 
 A border-axe behind was slung ; 
 
 His spear, six Scottish ells in length, 
 Seemed newly died with gore ; 
 
 His shafts and bow, of wonderous strength, 
 His hardy partner bore. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Thus to the Ladye did Tinlinn shew 
 The tidings of the English foe : 
 " Belted Will Howard is marching here, 
 And hot Lord Dacre, with many a spear, 
 And all the German hagbut-men, * 
 Who have long lain at Askerten : 
 They crossed the Liddle at curfew hour/ 
 And burned my little lonely tower ; 
 * Musketeers.
 
 106 
 
 The fiend receive their souls therefor ! 
 
 It had not been burned this year and more. 
 
 Barn-yard and dwelling, blazing bright, 
 
 Served to guide me on my flight ; 
 
 But I was chased the live-long night. 
 
 Black John of Akeshaw, and Fergus Grteme, 
 
 Fast upon my traces came, 
 
 Until I turned at Priesthaugh Scrogg, 
 
 And shot their horses in the bog, 
 
 Slew Fergus with my lance outright*-- 
 
 I had him long at high despite : 
 
 He drove my cows last Fastern's night." 
 
 VII. 
 
 Now weary scouts from Liddesdale, 
 Fast hurrying in, confirmed the tale ; 
 As far as they could judge by ken, 
 
 Three hours would bring to Teviot's strand 
 Three thousand armed Englishmen. . 
 Meanwhile, full many a warlike band,
 
 107 
 
 From Teviot, Aill, and Ettrick shade, 
 Came in, their Chiefs defence to aid. 
 
 There was saddling and mounting in haste, 
 
 There was pricking o'er moor and lee ; 
 He that was last at the try sting place 
 Was but lightly held of his gay ladye. 
 
 VII. 
 
 From fair St Mary's silver wave, 
 
 From dreary Gamescleuch's dusky height, 
 His ready lances Thirlestane brave 
 
 Arrayed beneath a banner bright. 
 The tressured fleur-de-luce he claims 
 To wreathe his shield, since royal James, 
 Encamped by Fala's mossy wave, 
 The proud distinction grateful gave, 
 
 For faith mid feudal jars ; 
 What time, save Thirlestane alone, 
 Of Scotland's stubborn barons none 
 
 Would march to southern wars ;
 
 108 
 
 And hence, in fair remembrance worn, 
 Yon sheaf of spears his crest has borne ; 
 Hence his high motto shines revealed, 
 " Ready, aye ready," for the field. 
 
 IX. 
 
 An aged knight, to danger steeled, 
 With many a moss-trooper, came on ; 
 
 And azure in a golden field, 
 
 The stars and crescent graced his shield, 
 Without the bend of Murdieston. 
 
 Wide lay his lands round Oakvvood tower, 
 
 And wide round haunted Castle-Ower ; 
 
 High over Borthwick's mountain flood, 
 
 His wood-embosomed mansion stood ; 
 
 In the dark glen, so deep below, 
 
 The herds of plundered England low ; 
 
 His bold retainers' daily food, 
 
 And bought with danger, blows, and blood.
 
 109 
 
 Marauding chief! his sole delight 
 
 The moonlight raid, the morning fight ; 
 
 Not even the Flower of Yarrow's charms, ; - 
 
 In youth, might tame his rage for arms ; 
 
 And still, in age, he spurned at rest, 
 
 And still his brows the helmet pressed, 
 
 Albeit the blanched locks below 
 
 Were white as Dinlay's spotless snow : 
 
 Five stately warriors drew the sword 
 Before their father's band ; 
 
 A braver knight than Harden's lord 
 Ne'er belted on a brand. 
 
 X. 
 
 Scotts of Eskdale, a stalwart band, 
 
 Came trooping down the Todshawhill ; 
 
 By the sword they won their land, 
 And by the sword they hold it still. 
 
 Hearken, Ladye, to the tale, 
 
 How thy sires won fair Eskdale.
 
 110 
 
 Earl Morton was lord of that valley fair, 
 
 The Beattisons were his vassals there. 
 
 The Earl was gentle, and mild of mood, 
 
 The vassals were warlike, and fierce, and rude ; ' 
 
 High of heart, and haughty of word, 
 
 Little they recked of a tame liege lord. 
 
 The Earl to fair Eskdale came, 
 
 Homage and seignory to claim : 
 
 Of Gilbert the Galliard, a heriot* he sought, 
 
 Saying, " Give thy best steed, as a vassal ought." 
 
 " Dear to me is my bonny white steed, 
 
 Oft has he helped me at pinch of need ; 
 
 Lord and Earl though thou be, I trow, 
 
 I can rein Bucksfoot better than thou." 
 
 Word on word gave fuel to fire, 
 
 Till so highly blazed the Beattisons' ire, 
 
 But that the Earl the flight had ta'en, 
 
 The vassals there their lord had slain. 
 
 * The feudal superior, in certain cases, was entitled to thff 
 best horse of the vassal, in name of Heriot, or Ilerczeld. 
 1
 
 Ill 
 
 Sore he plied both whip and spur, 
 
 As he urged his steed through Eskdale rnuir ; 
 
 And it fell down a weary weight, 
 
 Just on the threshold of Branksome gate. 
 
 XI. 
 
 The Earl was a wrathful man to see, 
 
 Full fain avenged would he be. 
 
 In haste to Branksome's lord he spoke, 
 
 Saying " Take these traitors to thy yoke ; 
 
 For a cast of hawks, and a purse of gold, 
 
 All Eskdale I'll sell thee, to have and hold : 
 
 Beshrew thy heart, of the Beattisons' clan 
 
 If thou leavest on Eske a landed man ; 
 
 But spare Woodkerrick's lands alone, 
 
 For he lent me his horse to escape upon." 
 
 A glad man then was Branksome bold, 
 
 Down he flung him the purse of gold. 
 
 To Eskdale soon he spurred amain, 
 
 And with him five hundred riders has ta'en.
 
 112 
 
 He left his merrymen in the mist of the hill, 
 
 And bade them hold them close and still ; 
 
 And alone he wended to the plain, 
 
 To meet with the Galliard and all his train. 
 
 To Gilbert the Galliard thus he said : 
 
 " Know thou me for thy liege lord and head ; 
 
 Deal not with me as with Morton tame, 
 
 For Scotts play best at the roughest game. 
 
 Give me in peace my heriot due, 
 
 Thy bonny white steed, or thou shalt rue. 
 
 If my horn I three times wind, 
 
 Eskdale shall long have the sound in mind." 
 
 XII. 
 
 Loudly the Beattison laughed in scorn ; 
 " Little care we for thy winded horn. 
 Ne'er shall it be the Galliard's lot, 
 To yield his steed to a haughty Scott. 
 Wend thou to Branksome back on foot, 
 With rusty spur and miry boot."-*-
 
 113 
 
 He blew his bugle so loud and hoarse, 
 
 That the dun deer started at far Craikcross ; 
 
 He blew again so loud and clear, 
 
 Through the gray mountain mist there did lances 
 
 appear ; 
 
 And the third blast rang with such a din, 
 That the echoes answered from Pentoun-linn ; 
 And all his riders came lightly in. 
 Then had you seen a gallant shock, 
 When saddles were emptied, and lances broke ! 
 For each scornful word the Galliard had said, 
 A Beattison on the field was laid. 
 His own good sword the chieftain drew, 
 And he bore the Galliard through and through ; 
 Where the Beattison's blood mixed with the riD, 
 The Galliard's haugh, men call it still. 
 The Scotts have scattered the Beattison clan, 
 In Eskedale they left but one landed man. 
 The valley of Eske, from the mouth to the source, 
 Was lost and won for that bonny white horse. 
 H
 
 114 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Whitslade the Hawk, and Headshaw came, 
 And warriors more than I may name ; 
 From Yarrow-cleuch to Hindhaugh-swair, 
 
 From Woodhouselie to Chester-glen, 
 Trooped man and horse, and bow and spear ; 
 
 Their gathering word was Bellenden. 
 And better hearts o'er Border sod 
 To siege or rescue never rode. 
 
 The Ladye marked the aids come in, 
 And high her heart of pride arose : 
 She bade her youthful son attend, 
 That he might know his father's friend, 
 
 And learn to face his foes. 
 " The boy is ripe to look on war ; 
 
 I saw him draw a cross-bow stiff, 
 And his true arrow struck afar 
 . The raven's nest upon the cliff; 
 The Red Cross, on a southern breast, 
 Is broader than the raven's nest :
 
 115 
 
 Thou, Whitslade, shalt teach him his weapon to 
 
 wield, 
 And o'er him hold his father's shield." 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Well may you think, the wily Page 
 Cared not to face the Ladye sage. 
 He counterfeited childish fear, 
 And shrieked, and shed full many a tear, 
 
 And moaned and plained in manner wild. 
 The attendants to the Ladye told, 
 
 Some fairy, sure, had changed the child, 
 
 That wont to be so free and bold. 
 Then wrathful was the noble dame ; 
 She blushed blood-red for very shame : 
 " Hence ! ere the clan his faintness view ; 
 Hence with the weakling to Buccleuch I- 
 Watt Tinlinn, thou shalt be his guide 
 To Rangleburn's lonely side.
 
 116 
 
 Sure some fell fiend has cursed our line, 
 That coward should e'er be son of mine !" 
 
 XV. 
 
 A heavy task Watt Tinlinn had, 
 To guide the counterfeited lad. 
 Soon as his palfrey felt the weight 
 Of that ill-omen'd elvish freight, 
 He bolted, sprung, and reared amain, 
 Nor heeded bit, nor curb, nor rein. 
 It cost Watt Tinlinn mickle toil 
 To drive him but a Scottish mile; 
 
 But, as a shallow brook they crossed, 
 The elf, amid the running stream, 
 His figure changed, like form in dream, 
 
 And fled, and shouted, " Lost! lost! lost!" 
 Full fast the urchin ran and laughed, 
 But faster still a cloth-yard shaft 
 Whistled from startled Tinlinn's yew, 
 And pierced his shoulder through and through.
 
 117 
 
 Although the imp might not be slain, 
 And though the wound soon healed again, 
 Yet, as he ran, he yelled for pain ; 
 And Watt of Tinlinn, much aghast, 
 Rode back to Branksome fiery fast. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Soon on the hill's steep verge he stood, 
 That looks o'er Branksome's towers and wood ; 
 And martial murmurs, from below, 
 Proclaimed the approaching southern foe. 
 Through the dark wood, in mingled tone, 
 Were Border-pipes and bugles blown ; 
 The coursers' neighing he could ken, 
 And measured tread of marching men ; 
 While broke at times the solemn hum, 
 The Almayn's sullen kettle-drum ; 
 And banners tall, of crimson sheen> 
 
 Above the copse appear; 
 And, glistening through the hawthorns green, 
 
 Shine helm, and shield, and spear.
 
 118 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Light forayers first, to view the ground, 
 Spurred their fleet coursers loosely round ; 
 Behind, in close array, and fast, 
 
 The Kendal archers, all in green, 
 Obedient to the bugle blast, 
 
 Advancing from the wood are seen. 
 To back and guard the archer band, 
 Lord Dacre's bill-men were at hand : 
 A hardy race, on Irthing bred, 
 With kirtles white, and crosses red, 
 Arrayed beneath the banner tall, 
 That streamed o'er Acre's conquered wall ; 
 And minstrels, as they marched in order, 
 Played, " Noble Lord Dacre, he dwells on the Border." 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Behind the English bill and bow, 
 The mercenaries, firm and slow,
 
 119 
 
 Moved on to fight, in dark array, 
 By Conrad led of Wolfenstein, 
 Who brought the band from distant Rhine, 
 
 And sold their blood for foreign pay. 
 The camp their home, their law the sword, 
 They knew no country, owned no lord : 
 They were not armed like England's sons, 
 But bore the levin-darting guns ; 
 Buff-coats, all frounced and 'broidered o'er, 
 And morsing-horns * and scarfs they wore ; 
 Each better knee was bared, to aid 
 The warriors in the escalade ; - V J 
 
 All, as they marched, in rugged tongue, 
 Songs of Teutonic feuds they sung. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 But louder still the clamour grew, 
 And louder still the minstrels blew, 
 
 * Powder-flasks.
 
 When, from beneath the greenwood tree, 
 
 Rode forth Lord Howard's chivalry ; 
 
 His men at arms, with glaive and spear, 
 
 Brought up the battle's glittering rear. 
 
 There many a youthful knight, full keen 
 
 To gain his spurs, in arms was seen; 
 
 With favour in his crest, or glove, 
 
 Memorial of his ladye-love. 
 
 So rode they forth in fair array, 
 
 Till full their lengthened lines display ; 
 
 Then called a halt, and made a stand, 
 
 And cried, " St George, for merry England !"- 
 
 XX. 
 
 Now every English eye, intent, 
 
 On Branksome's armed towers was bent ; 
 
 So near they were, that they might know 
 
 The straining harsh of each cross-bow ; 
 
 On battlement and bartizan 
 
 Gleamed axe, and spear, and partizan;
 
 Falcon and culver, * on each tower, 
 Stood prompt their deadly hail to shower; 
 And flashing armour frequent broke 
 From eddying whirls of sable smoke, 
 Where, upon tower and turret head, 
 The seething pitch and molten lead 
 Reeked, like a witch's cauldron red. 
 While yet they gaze, the bridges fall, 
 The wicket opes, and from the wall 
 Rides forth the hoary Seneschal. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Armed he rode, all save the head, 
 
 His white beard o'er his breast-plate spread ; 
 
 Unbroke by age, erect his seat, 
 
 He ruled his eager courser's gait ; 
 
 Forced him, with chastened fire, to prance, 
 
 And, high curvetting, slow advance : 
 
 * Ancient pieces of artillery.
 
 122 
 
 In sign of truce, his better hand 
 Displayed a peeled willow wand ; 
 His squire, attending in the rear, 
 Bore high a gauntlet on a spear. 
 When they espied him riding out, 
 Lord Howard and Lord Dacre stout 
 Sped to the front of their array, 
 To hear what this old knight should say. 
 
 , _.;..... ,. ;.;. ;, t . t . .. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " Ye English warden lords, of you 
 Demands the Ladye of Buccleuch, 
 Why, 'gainst the truce of Border-tide, 
 In hostile guise ye dare to ride, 
 With Kendal bow, and Gilsland brand, 
 And all yon mercenary band, 
 Upon the bounds of fair Scotland ? 
 My Ladye reads you swith return ; 
 And, if but one poor straw you burn, 
 Or do our towers so much molest, 
 As scare one swallow from her nest,
 
 123 
 
 St Mary ! but we'll light a brand, 
 
 Shall warm your hearths in Cumberland." 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 A wrathful man was Dacre's lord, 
 But calmer Howard took the word : 
 " May't please thy Dame, Sir Seneschal, 
 To seek the castle's outward wall, 
 Our pursuivant-at-arms shall shew, 
 Both why we came, and when we go." 
 The message sped, the noble Dame 
 To the walls' outward circle came ; 
 Each chief around leaned on his spear, 
 To see the pursuivant appear. 
 All in Lord Howard's livery dressed, 
 The lion argent decked his breast ; 
 He led a boy of blooming hue 
 O sight to meet a mother's view ! 
 It was the heir of great Buccleuch. 
 Obeisance meet the herald made, 
 
 And thus his master's will he said. 
 
 7
 
 124 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " It irks, high Dame, my noble Lords, 
 'Gainst ladye fair to draw their swords j 
 But yet they may not tamely see, 
 All through the western wardenry, 
 Your law-contemning kinsmen ride, 
 And burn and spoil the Border-side ; 
 And ill beseems your rank and birth 
 To make your towers a flemens-firth. * 
 We claim from thee William of Deloraine, 
 That he may suffer march-treason pain : f 
 It was but last St Cuthbert's even 
 He pricked to Stapleton on Leven, 
 Harried J the lands of Richard Musgrave, 
 And slew his brother by dint of glaive. 
 Then, since a lone and widowed Dame 
 These restless riders may not tame, 
 
 An asylum for outlaws. f Border treason. 
 
 J Plundered.
 
 Either receive within thy towers 
 Two hundred of my master's powers-, 
 Or straight they sound their warison, * 
 And storm and spoil thy garrison ; 
 And this fair boy, to London led, 
 Shall good King Edward's page be bred."- 
 
 XXV. 
 
 He ceased and loud the Boy did cry, 
 And stretched his little arms on high ; 
 Implored for aid each well-known face, 
 And strove to seek the Dame's embrace. 
 A moment changed that Ladye's cheer, 
 Gushed to her eye the unbidden tear ; 
 She gazed upon the leaders round, 
 And dark and sad each warrior frowned ; 
 Then, deep within her sobbing breast 
 She locked the struggling sigh to rest ; 
 
 * Note of assault.
 
 126 
 
 Unaltered and collected stood, 
 And thus replied, in dauntless mood. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 " Say to your Lords of high emprize, 
 
 Who war on women and on boys, 
 
 That either William of Deloraine 
 
 Will cleanse him, by oath, of march-treason stain, 
 
 Or else he will the combat take 
 
 'Gainst Musgrave, for his honour's sake. 
 
 No knight in Cumberland so good, 
 
 But William may count with him kin and blood. 
 
 Knighthood he took of Douglas' sword, 
 
 When English blood swelled Ancram ford ; 
 
 And but that Lord Dacre's steed was wight, 
 
 And bare him ably in the flight, 
 
 Himself had seen him dubbed a knight. 
 
 For the young heir of Branksome's line, 
 
 God be his aid, and God be mine ;
 
 127 
 
 Through me no friend shall meet his doom ; 
 Here, while I live, no foe finds room. 
 Then, if thy lords their purpose urge, 
 Take our defiance loud and high ; 
 Our slogan is their lyke-wake * dirge, 
 
 Our moat, the grave where they shall lie." 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Proud she looked round, applause to claim 
 Then lightened Thirlestane's eye of flame ; 
 
 His bugle Watt of Harden blew ; 
 Pensils and pennons wide were flung, 
 To heaven the Border slogan rung, 
 
 " St Mary for the young Buccleuch !'* 
 The English war-cry answered wide, 
 
 And forward bent each southern spear; 
 Each Kendal archer made a stride, 
 
 * Lyke~zvake, the watching a corpse previous to interment.
 
 128 
 
 And drew the bow-string to his ear ; 
 Each minstrel's war-note loud was blown ; 
 But, e'er a gray-goose shaft had flown, 
 
 A horseman galloped from the rear. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 " Ah ! noble Lords !" he, breathless, said, 
 " What treason has your march betrayed ? 
 What make you here, from aid so far, 
 Before you walls, around you war ? 
 Your foemen triumph in the thought, 
 That in the toils the lion's caught. 
 Already on dark Ruberslaw 
 The Douglas holds his weapon-schaw ; * 
 The lances, waving in his train, 
 Clothe the dun heath like autumn grain ; 
 And on the Liddle's northern strand, 
 To bar retreat to Cumberland, 
 
 * Weapon-schtMf the military array of a county.
 
 129 
 
 Lord Maxwell ranks his merry-men good, 
 Beneath the eagle and the rood; 
 And Jedwood, Eske, and Teviotdale, 
 
 Have to proud Angus come; , 
 And all the Merse and Lauderdale 
 Have risen with haughty Home. 
 An exile from Northumberland, 
 
 In Liddesdale I've wandered long ; 
 But still my heart was with merry England, 
 
 And cannot brook my country's wrong; 
 And hard I've spurred all night, to shew 
 The mustering of the coming foe." 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 " And let them come !" fierce Dacre cried ; 
 ef For soon yon crest, my father's pride, 
 That swept the shores of Judah's sea, 
 And waved in gales of Galilee, 
 From Branksome's highest towers displayed, 
 Shall mock the rescue's lingering aid ! 
 i
 
 130 
 
 Level each harquebuss on row ; 
 Draw, merry archers, draw the bow ; 
 Up, bill-men, to the walls, and cry, 
 Dacre for England, win or die I" 
 
 XXX. 
 
 " Yet hear," quoth Howard, " calmly hear, 
 
 Nor deem my words the words of fear : 
 
 For who, in field or foray slack, 
 
 Saw the blanche lion e'er fall back ? 
 
 But thus to risque our Border flower 
 
 In strife against a kingdom's power, 
 
 Ten thousand Scots 'gainst thousands three, 
 
 Certes, were desperate policy. 
 
 Nay, take the terms the Ladye made, 
 
 E'er conscious of the advancing aid : 
 
 Let Musgrave meet fierce Deloraine 
 
 In single fight ; and if he gain, 
 
 He gains for us ; but if he's crossed, 
 
 Tis but a single warrior lost :
 
 131 
 
 The rest, retreating as they came, 
 Avoid defeat, and death, and shame." 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Ill could the haughty Dacre brook 
 His brother-warden's sage rebuke ; 
 And yet his forward step he staid, 
 And slow and sullenly obeyed. 
 But ne'er again the Border side 
 Did these two lords in friendship ride ; 
 And this slight discontent, men say, 
 Cost blood upon another day. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 The pursuivant-at-arms again 
 Before the castle took his stand ; 
 
 His trumpet called, with parleying 'strain, 
 The leaders of the Scottish band ; 
 
 And he defied, in Musgrave's right, 
 
 Stout Deloraine to single fight ;
 
 132 
 
 A gauntlet at, their feet he laid, 
 
 And thus the terms of fight he said : 
 
 " If in the lists good Musgrave's sword 
 
 Vanquish the Knight of Deloraine, 
 Your youthful chieftain, Branksoine's lord, 
 
 Shall hostage for his clan remain : 
 If Deloraine foil good Musgrave, 
 The boy his liberty shall have. 
 
 Howe'er it falls, the English band, 
 Unharming Scots, by Scots unharmed, 
 In peaceful march, like men unarmed, 
 
 Shall straight retreat to Cumberland." 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Unconscious of the near relief, 
 
 The proffer pleased each Scottish chief, 
 
 Though much the Ladye sage gainsayed ; . 
 For though their hearts were brave and true, 
 From Jedwood's recent sack they knew, 
 
 How tardy was the regent's aid :
 
 133 
 
 And you may guess the noble Dame 
 
 Durst not the secret prescience own, 
 Sprung from the art she might not name, 
 
 By which the coming help was known. 
 Closed was the compact, and agreed, 
 That lists should be inclosed with speed, 
 
 Beneath the castle, on a lawn : 
 They fixed the morrow for the strife, 
 On foot, with Scottish axe and knife, 
 
 At the fourth hour from peep of dawn ; 
 When Deloraine, from sickness freed, 
 Or else a champion in his stead, 
 Should for himself and chieftain stand, 
 Against stout Musgrave, hand to hand. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 I know right well, that, in their lay, 
 Full many minstrels sing and say, 
 
 Such combat should be made on horse,
 
 134 
 
 On foaming steed, in full career, 
 With brand to aid, when as the spear 
 
 Should shiver in the course : 
 But he, the jovial Harper, taught 
 Me, yet a youth, how it was fought, 
 
 In guise which now I say ; 
 He knew each ordinance and clause 
 Of black Lord Archibald's battle laws, 
 
 In the old Douglas' day. 
 He brooked not, he^ that scoffing tongue 
 Should tax his minstrelsy with wrong, 
 
 Or call his song untrue : 
 For this, when they the goblet plied, 
 And such rude taunt had chafed his pride, 
 
 The bard of Reull he slew. 
 On Teviot's side, in fight they stood, 
 And tuneful hands were stained with blood ; 
 Where still the thorn's white branches wave, 
 Memorial o'er his rival^ grave.
 
 135 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Why should I tell the rigid doom, 
 That dragged my master to his tomb; 
 
 How Ousenam's maidens tore their hair, 
 Wept till their eyes were dead and dim, 
 And wrung their hands for love of him, 
 
 Who died at Jedwood Air ? 
 He died ! his scholars, one by one, 
 To the cold silent grave are gone ; 
 And I, alas ! survive alone, 
 To muse o'er rivalries of yore, 
 And grieve that I shall hear no more 
 The strains, with envy heard before ; 
 For, with my minstrel brethren fled, 
 My jealousy of song is dead. 
 
 He paused : the listening dames again 
 Applaud the hoary Minstrel's strain.
 
 136' 
 
 With many a word of kindly cheer, 
 In pity half, and half sincere, 
 Marvelled the Duchess how so well 
 His legendary song could tell 
 Of ancient deeds, so long forgot ; 
 Of feuds, whose memory was not ; 
 Of forests, now laid waste and bare ; 
 Of towers, which harbour now the hare ; 
 Of manners, long since changed and gone j 
 Of chiefs, who under their gray stone 
 So long had slept, that fickle Fame 
 Hud blotted from her rolls their name, 
 And twined round some new minion's head 
 The fading wreath for which they bled ; 
 In sooth, 'twas strange, this old man's verse 
 Could call them from their marble hearse. 
 
 The Harper smiled, well-pleased; for ne'er 
 Was flattery lost on poet's ear : 
 A simple race ! they waste their toil 
 For the vain tribute of a smile;
 
 13Z 
 
 E'en when in age their flame expires^ 
 Her dulcet breath can fan its fires : 
 Their drooping fancy wakes at praise, 
 And strives to trim the short-lived blaze. 
 
 Smiled then, well-pleased, the Aged Man, 
 And thus his tale continued ran.
 
 THE 
 
 LAY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 CANTO FIFTH.
 
 THE 
 
 LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 CAiMO FIFTH. 
 
 I. 
 
 CALL it not vain : they do not err. 
 
 Who say, that, when the Poet dies, 
 Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, 
 
 And celebrates his obsequies ; 
 Who say, tall cliff, and cavern lone, 
 For the departed bard make moan ; 
 That mountains weep in crystal rill j 
 That flowers in tears of balm distil ;
 
 142 
 
 Through his loved groves that breezes sigh, 
 And oaks, in deeper groan, reply ; 
 And rivers teach their rushing wave 
 To murmur dirges round his grave. 
 
 II. 
 
 Not that, in sooth, o'er mortal urn 
 Those things inanimate can mourn ; 
 But that the stream, the wood, the gale, 
 Is vocal with the plaintive wail 
 Of those, who, else forgotten long, 
 Lived in the poet's faithful song, 
 And, with the poet's parting breath, 
 Whose memory feels a second death. 
 The maid's pale shade, who wails her lot, 
 That love, true love, should be forgot, 
 From rose and hawthorn shakes the tear 
 Upon the gentle minstrel's bier : 
 The phantom knight, his glory fled, 
 Mourns o'er the field he heaped with dead ;
 
 143 
 
 Mounts the wild blast that sweeps amain,, 
 
 And shrieks along the battle-plain : 
 
 The chief, whose antique crownlet long 
 
 Still sparkled in the feudal song, 
 
 Now, from the mountain's misty throne, 
 
 Sees, in the thanedom once his own, 
 
 His ashes undistinguished lie, 
 
 His place, his power, his memory die : 
 
 His groans the lonely caverns- fill, 
 
 His tears of rage impel the rill ; 
 
 All mourn the minstrel's harp unstrung, 
 
 Their name unknown, their praise unsung. 
 
 III. 
 
 Scarcely the hot assault was staid, 
 The terms of truce were scarcely made, 
 When they could spy, from Branksome's towers, 
 The advancing march of martial powers ; 
 Thick clouds of dust afar appeared, 
 And trampling steeds were faintly heard ;
 
 Bright spears, above the columns dun, 
 
 Glanced momentary to the sun ; 
 
 And feudal banners fair displayed 
 
 The bands that moved to Branksome's aid. 
 
 ./ jSJ'OlilJ Jr:l 
 
 IV. 
 
 Vails not to tell each hardy clan, 
 
 From the fair Middle Marches came ; 
 The Bloody Heart blazed in the van, 
 
 Announcing Douglas, dreaded name ! 
 Vails not to tell what steeds did spurn, 
 Where the Seven Spears of Wedderburne 
 
 Their men in battle-order set ; 
 And Swinton laid the lance in rest, 
 That tamed of yore the sparkling crest 
 
 Of Clarence's Plantagenet. 
 Nor lists I say what hundreds more > 
 From the rich Merse and Lainmermore, 
 And Tweed's fair borders, to the war,
 
 145 
 
 Beneath the crest of old Dunbar, 
 
 And Hepburn's mingled banners come, 
 
 Down the steep mountain glittering far, 
 And shouting still, " a Home ! a Home !" 
 
 V. 
 
 Now squire and knight, from Branksome sent, 
 On many a courteous message went ; 
 To every chief and lord they paid 
 Meet thanks for prompt and powerful aid ; 
 And told them, how a truce was made, 
 And how a day of fight was ta'en 
 Twixt Musgrave and stout Deloraine ; 
 
 And how the Ladye prayed them dear, 
 That all would stay the fight to see, 
 And deign, in love and courtesy, 
 To taste of Branksome cheer. 
 Nor, while they bade to feast each Scot, 
 Were England's noble Lords forgot ;
 
 146 
 
 Himself, the hoary Seneschal, 
 Rode forth, in seemly terms to call 
 Those gallant foes to Branksome Hall. 
 Accepted Howard, than whom knight 
 Was never dubbed, more bold in fight ; 
 Nor, when from war and armour free, 
 More famed for stately courtesy : 
 But angry Dacre rather chose 
 In his pavilion to repose. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Now, noble Dame, perchance you ask, 
 How these two hostile armies met ? 
 Deeming it were no easy task 
 
 To keep the truce which here was set; 
 Where martial spirits, all on fire, 
 Breathed only blood and mortal ire. 
 By mutual inroads, mutual blows, 
 By habit, and by nation, foes,
 
 147 
 
 They met on Teviot's strand : 
 They met, and sate them mingled down, 
 Without a threat, without a frown, 
 
 As brothers meet in foreign land : 
 The hands, the spear that lately grasped, 
 Still in the mailed gauntlet clasped, 
 
 Were interchanged in greeting dear ; 
 Visors were raised, and faces shewn, 
 And many a friend, to friend made known, 
 
 Partook of social cheer. 
 Some drove the jolly bowl about ; 
 
 With dice and draughts some chased the day ; 
 And some, with many a merry shout, 
 In riot, revelry, and rout, 
 
 Pursued the foot-ball play. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Yet, be it known, had bugles blown, 
 Or sign of war been seen,
 
 148 
 
 Those bands, so fair together ranged, 
 Those hands, so frankly interchanged, 
 
 Had dyed with gore the green : 
 The merry shout by Teviot-side 
 Had sunk in war-cries wild and wide, 
 
 And in the groan of death ; 
 And whingers, * now in friendship bare, 
 The social meal to part and share, 
 
 Had found a bloody sheath. 
 Twixt truce and war, such sudden change 
 Was not unfrequent, nor held strange, 
 
 In the old Border-day ; 
 But yet on Branksome's towers and town, 
 In peaceful merriment, sunk down 
 
 The sun's declining ray. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The blithesome signs of wassel gay 
 Decayed not with the dying day ; 
 
 * A sort of knife, or poniard.
 
 149 
 
 Soon through the latticed windows tall, 
 Of lofty Branksome's lordly hall, 
 Divided square by shafts of stone, 
 Huge flakes of ruddy lustre shone ; 
 Nor less the gilded rafters rang 
 With merry harp and beakers' clang ; 
 
 And frequent, on the darkening plain, 
 Loud hollo, whoop, or whistle ran, 
 
 As bands, their stragglers to regain, 
 
 Give the shrill watch-word of their clan 
 And revellers, o'er their bowls, proclaim 
 Douglas or Dacre's conquering name. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Less frequent heard, and fainter still, 
 At length the various clamours died ; 
 
 And you might hear, from Branksome hill, 
 No sound but Teviot's rushing tide ; 
 
 Save, when the changing centinel 
 
 The challenge of his watch could tell ;
 
 150 
 
 And save, where, through the dark profound, 
 The clanging axe and hammer's sound 
 
 Rung from the nether lawn ; 
 For many a busy hand toiled there, 
 Strong pales to shape, and beams to square, 
 The lists' dread barriers to prepare, 
 
 Against the morrow's dawn. 
 
 X. 
 
 Margaret from hall did soon retreat, 
 Despite the Dame's reproving eye; 
 
 Nor marked she, as she left .her seat, 
 Full many a stifled sigh : 
 
 For many a noble warrior strove 
 
 To win the Flower of Teviot's love, 
 And many a bold ally. 
 
 With throbbing head and anxious heart 
 
 All in her lonely bower apart,
 
 In broken sleep she lay : 
 By times, from silken couch she rose ; 
 While yet the bannered hosts repose, 
 
 She viewed the dawning day : 
 Of all the hundreds sunk to rest, 
 First woke the loveliest and the best. 
 
 XL 
 
 She gazed upon the inner court, 
 
 Which in the tower's tall shadow lay; 
 Where coursers' clang, and stamp, and snort, 
 
 Had rung the live-long yesterday ; 
 Now still as death ; till, stalking slow, 
 
 The jingling spurs announced his tread, 
 A stately warrior passed below ; 
 
 But when he raised his plumed head 
 
 Blessed Mary ! can it be ? 
 Secure, as if in Ousenam bowers, 
 He walks through Branksome's hostile towers, 
 
 With fearless step and free.
 
 152 
 
 She dared not sign, she dared not speak 
 Oh ! if one page's slumbers break, 
 
 His blood the price must pay ! 
 Not all the pearls Queen Mary wears, 
 Not Margaret's yet more precious tears, 
 
 Shall buy his life a day. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Yet was his hazard small ; for well 
 You may bethink you of the spell 
 
 Of that sly urchin Page ; 
 This to his lord he did impart, 
 And made him seem, by glamour art, 
 
 A knight from Hermitage. 
 Unchallenged, thus, the warder's post, 
 The court, unchallenged, thus he crossed, 
 
 For all the vassalage : 
 But, O ! what magic's quaint disguise 
 Could blind fair Margaret's azure eyes !
 
 153 
 
 She started from her seat ; 
 While with surprise and fear she strove, 
 And both could scarcely master love 
 
 Lord Henry's at her feet. 
 
 .-, '. .V.MS; at jun titevii-jl ; 
 . XIII. 
 
 Oft have I mused, what purpose bad 
 That foul malicious urchin had 
 
 To bring this meeting round ; 
 For happy love's a heavenly sight, 
 And by a vile malignant sprite 
 
 In such no joy is found : 
 And oft I've deemed, perchance he thought 
 Their erring passion might have wrought 
 
 Sorrow, and sin, and shame ; 
 And death to Cranstoun's gallant Knight, 
 And to the gentle Ladye bright, 
 
 Disgrace, and loss of fame. 
 But earthly spirit could not tell 
 The heart of them that loved so well.
 
 154 
 
 True love's the gift which God has given 
 To man alone beneath the heaven. 
 
 It is not fantasy's hot fire, 
 Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly ; 
 
 It liveth not in fierce desire, 
 
 With dead desire it doth not die ; 
 It is the secret sympathy, 
 The silver link, the silken tie, 
 Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, 
 In body and in soul can bind. 
 Now leave we Margaret and her Knight, 
 To tell you of the approaching fight. 
 
 \ 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Their warning blast the bugles blew, 
 
 The pipe's shrill port * aroused each clan j 
 
 In haste, the deadly strife to view, 
 The trooping warriors eager ran : 
 
 Thick round the lists their lances stood, 
 
 Like blasted pines in Ettricke wood ; 
 
 * A martial piece of music, adapted to the bagpipes.
 
 155 
 
 To Branksome many a look they threw. 
 The combatants' approach to view, 
 And bandied many a word of boast, 
 About the knight each favoured most. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Meantime full anxious was the Dame ; 
 For now arose disputed claim, 
 Of who should fight for Deloraine, 
 Twixt Harden and 'twixt Thirlestaine : 
 They 'gan to reckon kin and rent, 
 And frowning brow on brow was bent 5 
 But yet not long the strife for, lo ! 
 Himself, the Knight of Deloraine, 
 Strong, as it seemed, and free from pain, 
 
 In armour sheathed from top to toe, 
 Appeared, and craved the combat due. 
 The Dame her charm successful knew, * 
 And the fierce chiefs their claims withdrew. 
 
 * See p. 90. Stanza XXIII.
 
 156 
 
 XVI. 
 
 When for the lists they sought the plain, 
 The stately Ladye's silken rein 
 
 Did noble Howard hold ; 
 Unarmed by her side he walked, 
 And much, in courteous phrase, they talked 
 
 Of feats of arms of old. 
 Costly his garb his Flemish ruff 
 Fell o'er his doublet, shaped of buff, 
 
 With satin slashed, and lined ; 
 Tawny his boot, and gold his spur, 
 His cloak was all of Poland fur, 
 
 His hose with silver twined ; 
 His Bilboa blade, by Marchmen felt, 
 Hung in a broad and studded belt ; 
 Hence, in rude phrase, the Borderers still 
 Called noble Howard, Belted Will. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Behind Lord Howard and the Dame, 
 Fair Margaret on her palfrey came,
 
 157 
 
 Whose foot-cloth swept the ground j 
 White was her wimple, and her veil, 
 And her loose locks a chaplet pale 
 
 Of whitest roses hound ; 
 The lordly Angus, by her side, 
 In courtesy to cheer her tried ; 
 Without his aid, her hand in vain 
 Had strove to guide her broidered rein. 
 He deemed, she shuddered at the sight 
 Of warriors met for mortal fight ; 
 But cause of terror, all unguessed, 
 Was fluttering in her gentle breast, 
 When, in their chairs of crimson placed, 
 The Dame and she the barriers graced. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Prize of the field, the young Buccleuch 
 An English knight led forth to view ; 
 Scarce rued the boy his present plight, 
 So much he longed to see the fight.
 
 158 
 
 Within the lists, in knightly pride, 
 High Home and haughty Dacre ride ; 
 Their leading staffs of steel they wield, 
 As marshals of the mortal field ; 
 While to each knight their care assigned 
 Like vantage of the sun and wind. 
 Then heralds hoarse did loud proclaim, 
 In king and queen, and wardens' name, 
 
 That none, while lasts the strife, 
 Should dare, by look, or sign, or word, 
 Aid to a champion to afford, 
 
 On peril of his life ; 
 And not a breath the silence broke* 
 Till thus the alternate Heralds spokes 
 
 XIX. 
 
 ENGLISH HERALD. 
 
 Here standeth Richard of Musgrave, 
 Good knight and true, and freely born, 
 
 Amends from Deloraine to crave, 
 For foul despiteous scathe and scorn.
 
 159 
 
 He sayeth, that William of Deloraine 
 Is traitor false by Border laws ; 
 
 This with his sword he will maintain, 
 So help him God, and his good cause ! 
 
 XX. 
 
 SCOTTISH HERALD. 
 
 Here stand eth William of Deloraine, 
 Good knight and true, of noble strain, 
 Who sayeth, that foul treason's stain, 
 
 Since he bore arms, ne'er soiled his coat ; 
 And that, so help him God above ! 
 He will on Musgrave's body prove, 
 He lyes most foully in his throat. 
 
 LORD DACRE. 
 
 Forward, brave champions, to the fight ! 
 Sound trumpets ! 
 
 LORD HOME. 
 
 God defend the right !" 
 
 Then, Teviot ! how thine echoes rang, 
 When bugle-sound and trumpet clang
 
 160 
 
 Let loose the martial foes, 
 And in mid list, with shield poised high, 
 And measured step and wary eye, 
 
 The combatants did close. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Ill would it suit your gentle ear, * 
 
 Ye lovely listeners, to hear 
 
 How to the axe the helms did sound, 
 
 And blood poured down from many a wound ; 
 
 For desperate was the strife and long, 
 
 And either warrior fierce and strong. 
 
 But, were each dame a listening knight, 
 
 I well could tell how warriors fight ; 
 
 For I have seen war's lightning flashing, 
 
 Seen the claymore with bayonet clashing, 
 
 Seen through red blood the war-horse dashing, 
 
 And scorned, amid the reeling strife, 
 
 To yield a step for death or life.
 
 161 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Tis done, 'tis done ! that fatal blow 
 
 Has stretched him on the bloody plain ; 
 He strives to rise Brave Musgrave, no ! 
 
 Thence never shalt thou rise again ! 
 He chokes in blood some friendly hand 
 Undo the visor's barred band, 
 Unfix the gorget's iron clasp, 
 And give him room for life to gasp ! 
 O, bootless aid ! haste, holy Friar, 
 Haste, ere the sinner shall expire ! 
 Of all his guilt let him be shriven, 
 And smooth his path from earth to heaven ! 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 In haste the holy Friar sped ; 
 His naked foot was dyed with red, 
 
 As through the lists he ran ; . 
 Unmindful of the shouts on high, 
 That hailed the conqueror's victory, 
 
 He raised the dying man ;
 
 162 
 
 Loose waved his silver beard and hair, 
 As o'er him he kneeled down in prayer ; 
 And still the crucifix on high 
 He holds before his darkening eye ; 
 And still he bends an anxious ear, 
 His faultering penitence to hear ; 
 
 Still props him from the bloody sod, 
 Still, even when soul and body part, 
 Pours ghostly comfort on his heart, 
 
 And bids him trust in God ! 
 Unheard he prays ; the death-pang's o'er !- 
 Richard of Musgrave breathes no more. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 As if exhausted in the fight, 
 Or musing o'er the piteous sight, 
 
 The silent victor stands ; 
 His beaver did he not unclasp, 
 Marked not the shouts, felt not the grasp 
 
 Of gratulating hands.
 
 163 
 
 When lo ! strange cries of wild surprise, 
 Mingled with seeming terror, rise 
 
 Among the Scottish bands ; 
 And all, amid the thronged array, 
 In panic haste gave open way 
 To a half-naked ghastly man, 
 Who downward from the castle ran : 
 He crossed the barriers at a bound, 
 
 And wild and hagard looked around, 
 As dizzy, and in pain ; 
 
 And all, upon the armed ground, 
 
 Knew William of Deloraine ! 
 Each ladye sprung from seat with speed ; 
 Vaulted each marshall from his steed ; 
 
 " And who art thou/' they cried, 
 " Who hast this battle fought and won ?" 
 His plumed helm .was soon undone 
 
 " Cranstoun of Teviotside ! 
 For this fair prize I've fought and won," 
 And to the Ladye led her son. 
 4
 
 164- 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Full oft the rescued boy she kissed, 
 And often pressed him to her breast ; 
 For, under all her dauntless show, 
 Her heart had throbbed at every blow ; 
 Yet not Lord Cranstoun deigned she greet, 
 Though low he kneeled at her feet. 
 Me lists not tell what words were made, 
 What Douglas, Home, and Howard said 
 
 For Howard was a generous foe 
 And how the clan united prayed, 
 
 The Ladye would the feud forego, 
 And deign to bless the nuptial hour 
 Of Cranstoun's Lord and Teviot's Flower. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 She looked to river, looked to hill, 
 Thought on the Spirit's prophecy, 
 
 Then broke her silence stern and still, 
 " Not you, but Fate, lias vanquished me ;
 
 165 
 
 Their influence kindly stars may shower 
 On Teviot's tide and Branksome's tower, 
 
 For pride is quelled, and love is free." 
 She took fair Margaret by the hand, 
 Who, breathless, trembling, scarce might stand ; 
 
 That hand to Cranstoun's lord gave she : 
 <e As I am true to thee and thine, 
 Do thou be true to me and mine ! 
 
 This clasp of love our bond shall be ; 
 For this is your betrothing day, 
 And all these noble lords shall stay, 
 
 To grace it with their company." 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 All as they left the listed plain, 
 Much of the story she did gain ; 
 How Cranstoun fought with Deloraine, 
 And of his Page, and of the Book, 
 Which from the wounded knight he took ;
 
 166 
 
 And how he sought her castle high, 
 
 That morn, by help of gramarye ; 
 
 How, in Sir William's armour dight, 
 
 Stolen by his Page, while slept the knight, 
 
 He took on him the single fight. 
 
 But half his tale he left unsaid, 
 
 And lingered till he joined the maid. 
 
 Cared not the Ladye to betray 
 
 Her mystic arts in view of day ; 
 
 But well she thought, ere midnight came, 
 
 Of that strange Page the pride to tame, 
 
 From his foul hands the Book to save, 
 
 And send it back to Michael's grave. 
 
 Needs not to tell each tender word 
 
 Twixt Margaret and 'twixt Cranstoun's lord j 
 
 Nor how she told of former woes, 
 
 And how her bosom fell and rose, 
 
 While he and Musgrave bandied blows. 
 
 Needs not these lovers' joys to tell ; 
 
 One day, fair maids, you'll know them well.
 
 167 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 William of Deloraine, some chance 
 Had wakened from his deathlike trance ; 
 
 And taught that, in the listed plain, 
 Another, in his arms and shield, 
 Against fierce Musgrave axe did wield, 
 Under the name of Deloraine. 
 Hence, to the field, unarmed, he ran, 
 And hence his presence scared the clan, 
 Who held him for some fleeting wraith, * 
 And not a man of blood and breath. 
 Not much this new ally he loved, 
 Yet, when he saw what hap had proved, 
 
 He greeted him right heartilie : 
 He would not waken old debate, 
 For he was void of rancorous hate, 
 
 Though rude, and scant of courtesy ; 
 In raids he spilt but seldom blood, 
 Unless when men at arms withstood, 
 
 * The spectral apparition of a living person.
 
 168 
 
 Or, as was meet, for deadly feud. 
 He ne'er bore grudge for stalwart blow, 
 Ta'en in fair fight from gallant foe : 
 And so 'twas seen of him, e'en now, 
 
 When on dead Musgrave he looked down ; 
 Grief darkened on his rugged brow, 
 
 Though half disguised with a frown ; 
 And thus, while sorrow bent his head, 
 His foeman's epitaph he made. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 " Now, Richard Musgrave, liest thou here ! 
 
 I ween, my deadly enemy ; 
 For, if I slew thy brother dear, 
 
 Thou slewest a sister's son to me ; 
 And when I lay in dungeon dark, 
 
 Of Naworth Castle, long months three, 
 Till ransomed for a thousand mark, 
 
 Dark Musgrave, it was long of thee.
 
 169 
 
 And, Musgrave, could our fight be tried, 
 
 And thou wert now alive, as I, 
 No mortal man should us divide, 
 
 Till one, or both of us, did die : 
 Yet rest thee, God ! for well I know, 
 I ne'er shall find a nobler foe. 
 In all the northern counties here, 
 Whose word is, Snafle, spur, and spear,* 
 Thou wert the best to follow gear. 
 Twas pleasure, as we looked behind, 
 To see how thou the chace couldst wind, 
 Cheer the dark blood-hound on his way, 
 And with the bugle rouse the fray ! 
 I'd give the lands of Deloraine, 
 Dark Musgrave were alive again." 
 
 XXX. 
 
 So mourned he, till Lord Dacre's band 
 Were bowning back to Cumberland. 
 
 * The lands, that over Ouse to Berwick forth do bear, 
 Have for their blazon had, the snafle, spur, and spear. 
 
 Poly-albion, Song xxiii.
 
 170 
 
 They raised brave Musgrave from the field, 
 And laid him on his bloody shield ; 
 On levelled lances, four and four, 
 By turns, the noble burden bore. 
 Before, at times, upon the gale, 
 Was heard the Minstrel's plaintive wail ; 
 Behind, four priests, in sable stole, 
 Sung requiem for the warrior's soul : 
 Around, the horsemen slowly rode ; 
 With trailing pikes the spearmen trod ; 
 And thus the gallant knight they bore, 
 Through Liddesdale, to Leven's shore ; 
 Thence to Holme Coltrame's lofty nave, 
 And laid him in his father's grave. 
 
 THE harp's wild notes, though hushed the song, 
 The mimic march of death prolong ; 
 Now seems it far, and now a-near, 
 Now meets, and now eludes the ear ;
 
 171 
 
 Now seems some mountain side to sweep, 
 Now faintly dies in valley deep ; 
 Seems now as if the Minstrel's wail, 
 Now the sad requiem, loads the gale ; 
 Last, o'er the warrior's closing grave, 
 Rung the full choir in choral stave. 
 
 After due pause, they bade him tell, 
 Why he, who touched the harp so well, 
 Should thus, with ill-rewarded toil, 
 Wander a poor and thankless soil, 
 When the more generous southern land 
 Would well requite his skilful hand. 
 
 The Aged Harper, howsoe'er 
 His only friend, his harp, was dear, 
 Liked not to hear it ranked so high 
 Above his flowing poesy ;
 
 172 
 
 Less liked he still, that scornful jeer 
 Misprized the land, he loved so dear ; 
 High was the sound, as thus again 
 The Bard resumed his minstiel strain. 

 
 THE 
 
 LAY ^ 
 
 OF 
 
 THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 CANTO SIXTH.
 
 THE 
 
 CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 I. 
 
 BREATHES there the man, with soul so dead, 
 Who never to himself hath said, 
 
 This is my own, my native land ! 
 Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, 
 As home his footsteps he hath turned, 
 
 From wandering on a foreign strand ! 
 If such there breathe, go, mark him well ; 
 For him no minstrel raptures swell ;
 
 176 
 
 High though his titles, proud his name, 
 Boundless his wealth as wish can claim ; 
 Despite those titles, power, and pelf, 
 The wretch, concentered all in self, 
 Living, shall forfeit fair renown, 
 And, doubly dying, shall go down 
 To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, 
 Unwept, unhonoured, and unsung. 
 
 II. 
 
 O Caledonia ! stem and wild, 
 Meet nurse for a poetic child ! 
 Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, 
 Land of the mountain and the flood, 
 Land of my sires ! what mortal hand 
 Can e'er untie the filial band, 
 That knits me to thy rugged strand ! 
 Still, as I view each well-known scene, 
 Think what is now, and what hath been,
 
 177 
 
 Seems as, to me, of all bereft, 
 
 Sole friends thy woods and streams were left; 
 
 And thus I love them better still, 
 
 Even in extremity of ill. 
 
 By Yarrow's stream still let me stray, 
 
 Though none should guide my feeble way ; 
 
 Still feel the breeze down Ettricke break, 
 
 Although it chill my withered cheek ; 
 
 Still lay my head by Teviot stone, 
 
 Though there, forgotten and alone, 
 
 The Bard may draw his parting groan. 
 
 III. 
 
 Not scorned like me ! to Branksome Hall 
 The Minstrels came, at festive call ; 
 Trooping they came, from near and far, 
 The jovial priests of mirth and war; 
 Alike for feast and fight prepared, 
 Battle and banquet both they shared. 
 Of late, before each martial clan, 
 They blew their death-note in the van, 
 M
 
 178 
 
 But now, for every merry mate, 
 
 Rose the portcullis' iron grate ; 
 
 They sound the pipe, they strike the string, 
 
 They dance, they revel, and they sing, 
 
 Till the rude turrets shake and ring. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Me lists not at this tide declare 
 
 The splendour of the spousal rite, 
 How mustered in the chapel fail- 
 Both maid and matron, squire and knight ; 
 Me lists not tell of owches rare, 
 Of mantles green, and hraided hair, 
 And kirtles furred with miniver ; 
 What plumage waved the altar round, 
 How spurs, and ringing chainlets, sound : 
 And hard it were for bard to speak 
 The changeful hue of Margaret's cheek ; 
 That lovely hue which comes and flies, 
 As awe and shame alternate rise !
 
 179 
 
 V. 
 
 Some bards have sung, the Ladye high 
 Chapel or altar came not nigh ; 
 Nor durst the rites of spousal grace, 
 So much she feared each holy place. 
 False slanders these : I trust right well, 
 She wrought not by forbidden spell ; 
 For mighty words and signs have power 
 O'er sprites in planetary hour : 
 Yet scarce I praise their venturous part, 
 Who tamper with such dangerous art. 
 But this for faithful truth I say, 
 
 The Ladye by the altar stood , 
 Of sable velvet her array, 
 
 And on her head a crimson hood, 
 With pearls embroidered and entwined, 
 Guarded with gold, with ermine lined ; 
 A merlin sat upon her wrist, 
 Held by a leash of silken twist.
 
 180 
 
 VI. 
 
 The spousal rites were ended soon : 
 'Twas now the merry hour of noon, 
 And in the lofty arched hall 
 Was spread the gorgeous festival. 
 Steward and squire, with heedful haste, 
 Marshalled the rank of every guest ; 
 Pages, with ready blade, were there, 
 The mighty meal to carve and share : 
 O'er capon, heron-shew, and crane, 
 And princely peacock's gilded train, 
 And o'er the boar-head, garnished brave, 
 And cygnet from St Mary's wave ; 
 O'er ptarmigan and venison, 
 The priest had spoke his benison. 
 Then rose the riot and the din, 
 Above, beneath, without, within ! 
 For, from the lofty balcony, 
 Rung trumpet, shalm, and psaltery ;
 
 181 
 
 Their clanging bowls old warriors quaffed, 
 Loudly they spoke, and loudly laughed ; 
 Whispered young knights, in tone more mild, 
 To ladies fair, and ladies smiled. 
 The hooded hawks, high perched on beam, 
 The clamour joined with whistling scream, 
 And flapped their wings, and shook their bells, 
 In concert with the staghounds' yells. 
 Round go the flasks of ruddy wine, 
 From Bourdeaux, Orleans, or the Rhine ; 
 Their tasks the busy sewers ply, 
 And all is mirth and revelry. 
 
 * {''. ' <; 
 VII. 
 
 The Goblin Page, omitting still 
 No opportunity of ill, 
 Strove now, while blood ran hot and high, 
 To rouse debate and jealousy; 
 Till Conrad, lord of Wolfenstein, 
 By nature fierce, and warm with wine,
 
 182 
 
 And now in humour highly crossed, 
 
 About some steeds his band had lost, 
 
 High words to words succeeding still, 
 
 Smote, with his gauntlet, stout Hunthill ; 
 
 A hot and hardy Rutherford, 
 
 Whom men called Dickon Draw-the-Sword. 
 
 He took it on the Page's saye, 
 
 Hunthill had driven these steeds away. 
 
 Then Howard, Home, and Douglas rose, 
 
 The kindling discord to compose : 
 
 Stern Rutherford right little said, 
 
 But bit his glove, and shook his head. 
 
 A fortnight thence, in Inglewood, 
 
 Stout Conrad, cold, and drenched in blood, 
 
 His bosom gored with many a wound, 
 
 Was by a woodman's lyme-dog found ; 
 
 Unknown the manner of his death, 
 
 Gone was his brand, both sword and sheath ;
 
 183 
 
 But ever from that time, 'twas said, 
 That Dickon wore a Cologne blade. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The Dwarf, who feared his master's eye 
 Might his foul treachery espie, 
 Now sought the castle buttery, 
 Where many a yeoman, bold and free, 
 Revelled as merrily and well 
 As those, that sat in lordly selle. 
 WattTinlinn, there, did frankly raise 
 The pledge to Arthur Fire-the-Braes ; 
 And he, as by his breeding bound, 
 To Howard's merry-men sent it round. 
 To quit them, on the English side, 
 Red Roland Forster loudly cried, 
 " A deep carouse to yon fair bride T 
 At every pledge, from vat and pail, 
 Foamed forth, in floods, the nut-brown ale ;
 
 184 
 
 While shout the riders every one, 
 Such day of mirth ne'er cheered their clan, 
 Since old Buccleuch the name did gain, 
 When in the cleuch the buck was ta'en. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The wily Page, with vengeful thought^ 
 Remembered him of Tinlinn's yew, 
 And swore, it should be dearly bought, 
 
 That ever he the arrow drew. 
 First, he the yeoman did molest, 
 With bitter gibe and taunting jest ; 
 Told, how he fled at Solway strife, 
 And how Hob Armstrong cheered his wife 
 Then, shunning still his powerful arm, 
 At unawares he wrought him harm ; 
 From trencher stole his choicest cheer, 
 Dashed from his lips his can of beer, 
 Then, to his knee sly creeping on, 
 With bodkin pierced him to the bone :
 
 185 
 
 The venomed wound, and festering joint, 
 
 Long after rued that bodkin's point. 
 
 The startled yeoman swore and spurned, 
 
 And board and flaggons overturned. 
 
 Riot and clamour wild began ; 
 
 Back to the hall the Urchin ran ; 
 
 Took in a darkling nook his post, 
 
 And grinned, and muttered, " Lost! lost! lost!' 
 
 X. 
 
 By this, the Dame, lest further fray 
 Should mar the concord of the day, 
 Had bid the Minstrels tune their lay. 
 And first stept forth old Albert Graeme, 
 The Minstrel of that ancient name : 
 Was none who struck the harp so well, 
 Within the Land Debateable ; 
 Well friended too, his hardy kin, 
 Whoever lost, were sure to win ;
 
 186 
 
 They sought the beeves, that made their broth, 
 In Scotland and in England both. 
 In homely guise, as nature bade, 
 His simple song the Borderer said. 
 
 XL 
 
 ALBEHT GRJEME. 
 
 It was an English ladye bright, 
 
 (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) 
 
 And she would marry a Scottish knight, 
 For Love will still be lord of all. 
 
 Blithely they saw the rising sun, 
 
 When he shone fair on Carlisle wall, 
 
 But they were sad ere day was done, 
 Though Love was still the lord of all. 
 
 Her sire gave brooch and jewel fine, 
 
 Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall ; 
 
 Her brother gave but a flask of wine, 
 For ire that Love was lord of all.
 
 187 
 
 For she had lands, both meadow and lea, 
 Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall^ 
 
 And he swore her death, ere he would see 
 A Scottish knight the lord of all. 
 
 XII. 
 
 That wine she had not tasted well, 
 (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall ;) 
 
 When dead, in her true love's arras, she fell, 
 For Love was still the lord of all. 
 
 He pierced her brother to the heart, ' ft ~i 
 Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall ;- 
 
 So perish all, would true love part, 
 That Love may still be lord of all ! 
 
 And then he took the cross divine, 
 
 Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall, 
 
 And died for her sake in Palestine, 
 So Love was still the lord of all.
 
 188 
 
 Now all ye lovers, that faithful prove, 
 (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) 
 
 Pray for their souls, who died for love, 
 For Love shall still be lord of all! 
 
 XIII. 
 
 As ended Albert's simple lay, 
 
 Arose a bard of loftier port ; 
 For sonnet, rhime, and roundelay, 
 
 Renowned in haughty Henry's court : 
 There rung thy harp, unrivalled long, 
 Fitztraver of the silver song. 
 
 The gentle Surrey loved his lyre 
 Who has not heard of Surrey's fame ? 
 
 His was the hero's soul of fire, 
 
 And his the bard's immortal name, 
 And his was love, exalted high 
 By all the glow of chivalry.
 
 189 
 
 XIV. 
 
 They sought, together, climes afar, 
 
 And oft, within some olive grove, 
 When evening came, with twinkling star, 
 
 They sung of Surrey's absent love. 
 His step the Italian peasant staid, 
 
 And deemed, that spirits from on high, 
 Round where some hermit saint was laid, 
 
 Were breathing heavenly melody; 
 So sweet did harp and voice combine, 
 To praise the name of Geraldine. 
 
 XV. 
 Fitztraver ! O what tongue may say 
 
 The pangs thy faithful bosom knew, 
 When Surrey, of the deathless lay, 
 
 Ungrateful Tudor's sentence slew ? 
 Regardless of the tyrant's frown, 
 His harp called wrath and vengeance down.
 
 190 
 
 He left, for Naworth's iron towers, 
 Windsor's green glades, and courtly bowers, 
 And, faithful to his patron's name, 
 With Howard still Fitztraver came ; 
 Lord William's foremost fayourite he, 
 And chief of all his minstrelsy. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 FITZTRAVER. 
 
 Twas All-souls eve, and Surrey's heart beat high ; 
 
 He heard the midnight-bell with anxious start, 
 Which told the mystic hour, approaching nigh, 
 
 When wise Cornelius promised, by his art, 
 To shew to him the ladye of his heart, 
 
 Albeit betwixt them roared the ocean grim ; 
 Yet so the sage had hight to play his part, 
 
 That he should see her form in life and limb, 
 And mark, if still she loved, and still she thought of 
 him. 

 
 191 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Dark was the vaulted room of gramarye, 
 
 To which the Wizard led the gallant Knight, 
 Save that hefore a mirror, huge and high, 
 
 A hallowed taper shed a glimmering light 
 On mystic implements of magic might ; 
 
 On eross, and character, and talisman, 
 And almagest, and altar, nothing bright : 
 
 For fitful was the lustre, pale and wan, 
 As watch-light by the bed of some departing man. 
 
 xvm. 
 
 But soon, within that mirror, huge and high, 
 
 Was seen a self-emitted light to gleam ; 
 And forms upon its breast the earl 'gan spy, 
 
 Cloudy and indistinct, as feverish dream ; 
 Till, slow arranging, and defined, they seem 
 
 To form a lordly and a lofty room, 
 Part lighted by a lamp with silver beam, 
 
 Placed by a couch of Agra's silken loom, 
 And part by moonshine pale, and part was hid in 
 gloom.
 
 192 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Fair all the pageant but how passing fair 
 
 The slender form, which lay on couch of Ind ! 
 O'er her white bosom strayed her hazel hair, 
 
 Pale her dear cheek, as if for love she pined ; 
 All in her night-robe loose, she lay reclined, 
 
 And, pensive, read from tablet eburnine 
 Some strain, that seemed her inmost soul to find : 
 
 That favoured strain was Surrey's raptured line, 
 That fair and lovely form, the Ladye Geraldine. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Slow rolled the clouds upon the lovely form, 
 
 And swept the goodly vision all away 
 So royal envy rolled the murky storm 
 
 O'er my beloved Master's glorious day. 
 Thou jealous, ruthless tyrant ! Heaven repay 
 
 On thee, and on thy childrens' latest line, 
 The wild caprice of thy despotic sway, 
 
 The gory bridal bed, the plundered shrine, 
 The murdered Surrey's blood, the tears of Geraldine !
 
 XXI. 
 
 Both Scots, and Southern chiefs > prolong 
 Applauses of Fitztraver's song : 
 These hated Henry's name as death, 
 And those still held the ancient faith. 
 Then, from his seat, with lofty air, 
 Rose Harold, bard of brave St Clair; 
 St Clair, who, feasting high at Home, 
 Had with that lord to battle come. 
 Harold was born where restless seas 
 Howl round the storm-swept Orcades ; 
 Where erst St Glairs held princely sway 
 O'er isle and islet, strait and bay ; 
 Still nods their palace to its fall, 
 Thy pride and sorrow, fair Kirkwall ! 
 Thence oft he marked fierce Pentland rave, 
 As if grim Odinn rode her wave ; 
 And watched, the whilst, with visage pale, 
 And throbbing heart, the struggling sail;
 
 194 
 
 For all of wonderful and wild 
 Had rapture for the lonely child. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 And much of wild and wonderful 
 In these rude isles might Fancy cull ; 
 For thither came, in times afar, 
 Stern Lochlin's sons of roving war, 
 The Norsemen, trained to spoil and blood, 
 Skilled to prepare the raven's food; 
 Kings of the main their leaders brave, 
 Their barks the dragons of the wave. 
 And there, in many a stormy vale, 
 The Scald had told his wondrous tale ; 
 And many a Runic column high 
 Had witnessed grim idolatry. 
 And thus had Harold, in his youth, 
 Learned many a Saga's rhime uncouth, 
 Of that Sea-Snake, tremendous curled, 
 Whose monstrous circle girds the world ;
 
 195 
 
 Of those dread Maids, whose hideous yell 
 
 Maddens the battle's bloody swell ; 
 
 Of chiefs, who, guided through the gloom 
 
 By the pale death-lights of the tomb, 
 
 Ransacked the graves of warriors old, 
 
 Their faulchions wrenched from corpses' hold, 
 
 Waked the deaf tomb with war's alarms, 
 
 And bade the dead arise to arms ! 
 
 With war and wonder all on flame, 
 
 To Roslin's bowers young Harold came, 
 
 Where, by sweet glen and greenwood tree, 
 
 He learned a milder minstrelsy ; 
 
 Yet something of the Northern spell 
 
 Mixed with the softer numbers well. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 HAROLD. 
 
 O listen, listen, ladies gay ! 
 
 No haughty feat of arms I tell : 
 Soft is the note, and sad the lay, 
 
 That mourns the lovely Rosabelle.
 
 196 
 
 " Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant crewf 
 And, gentle ladye, deign to stay ! 
 
 Rest thee in Cdstle Ravensheuch, 
 Nor tempt the stormy firth to-day. 
 
 " The blackening wave is edged with white ; 
 
 To inch * and rock the sea-mews fly ; 
 The fishers have heard the Water Sprite, 
 
 Whose screams forebode that wreck is nigh. 
 
 " Last night the gifted Seer did view 
 A wet shroud swathed round ladye gay ; 
 
 Then stay thee, Fair, in Ravensheuch : 
 Why cross the gloomy firth to-day ?" 
 
 " Tis not because Lord Lindesay's heir 
 To-night at Roslin leads the ball, 
 
 But that my lady e-m other there 
 Sits lonely in her castle-hall. 
 
 * Inch, Isle.
 
 197 
 
 * 'Tis not because the ring they ride, 
 And Lindesay at the ring rides well, 
 
 But that my sire the wine will chide, 
 If 'tis not filled by Rosabelle." 
 
 O'er Roslin all that dreary night 
 
 A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam ; 
 
 Twas broader than the watch-fire light, 
 And redder than the bright moon-beam. 
 
 It glared on Roslin's castled rock, 
 
 \ 
 
 It ruddied all the copse-wood glen ; 
 'Twas seen from Dryden's groves of oak, 
 And seen from caverned Hawthornden. 
 
 Seemed all on fire that chapel proud, 
 Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffined lie ; 
 
 Each Baron, for a sable shroud, 
 Sheathed in his iron panoply.
 
 198 
 
 Seemed all on fire within, around, 
 
 Deep sacristy and altar's pale ; 
 Shone every pillar foliage-bound, 
 
 And glimmered all the dead men's mail. 
 
 Blazed battlement and pinnet high, 
 
 Blazed every rose-carved buttress fair 
 
 So still they blaze, when fate is nigh 
 The lordly line of high St Clair. 
 
 There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold 
 Lie buried within that proud chapelle ; 
 
 Each one the holy vault doth hold 
 But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle ! 
 
 And each St Clair was buried there, 
 
 With candle, with book, and with knell ; 
 
 But the sea-caves rung, and the wild winds sung, 
 The dirge of lovely Rosabelle.
 
 199 
 
 XXV. 
 
 So sweet was Harold's piteous lay, 
 
 Scarce marked the guests the darkened hall, 
 Though, long before the sinking day, 
 
 A wondrous shade involved them all : 
 It was not eddying mist or fog, 
 Drained by the sun from fen or bog ; 
 
 Of no eclipse had sages told ; 
 And yet, as it came on apace, 
 Each one could scarce his neighbour's face, 
 
 Could scarce his own stretched hand behold. 
 A secret horror checked the feast, 
 And chilled the soul of every guest ; 
 Even the high Dame stood half aghast, 
 She knew some evil on the blast; 
 The elvish Page fell to the ground, 
 And, shuddering, muttered, u Found! found! 
 found!"
 
 200 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Then sudden, through the darkened air 
 
 A flash of lightning came ; 
 So broad, so bright, so red the glare, 
 
 The castle seemed on flame ; 
 Glanced every rafter of the hall, 
 Glanced every shield* upon the wall ; 
 Each trophied beam, each sculptured stone, 
 Were instant seen, and instant gone ; 
 Full through the guests' bedazzled band 
 Resistless flashed the levin-brand, 
 And filled the hall with smouldering smoke, 
 As on the elvish Page it broke. 
 
 It broke, with thunder long and loud, 
 
 Dismayed the brave, appalled the proud, 
 From sea to sea the larum rung ; 
 
 On Berwick wall, and at Carlisle withal, 
 
 To arms the startled warders sprung. 
 When ended was the dreadful roar, 
 The elvish Dwarf was seen no more !
 
 201 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Some heard a voice in Branksome Hall, 
 Some saw a sight, not seen by all ; 
 That dreadful voice was heard by some, 
 Cry, with loud summons, " GYLBIN, COME!" 
 And on the spot where burst the brand, 
 
 Just where the Page had flung him down, 
 Some saw an arm, and some a hand, 
 
 And some the waving of a gown. 
 The guests in silence prayed and shook, 
 And terror dimmed each lofty look. 
 But none of all the astonished train 
 Was so dismayed as Deloraine ; 
 His blood did freeze, his brain did burn, 
 'Twas feared his mind would ne'er return ; 
 For he was speechless, ghastly, wan, 
 Like him, of whom the story ran, 
 Who spoke the spectre-hound in Man.* 
 At length, by fits, he darkly told, 
 With broken hint, and shuddering cold-^ 
 
 * The Isle of Man. See Note.
 
 202 
 
 That he had seen, right certainly, 
 A shape with amice wrapped around, 
 Like a wrought Spanish baldric bound f o * 
 
 Like a pilgrim from beyond the sea ; 
 And knew but how it mattered not 
 It was the wizard, Michael Scott. 
 
 XXVIIL 
 
 The anxious crowd, with horror pale, 
 All trembling, heard the wondrous tale ; 
 No sound was made, no word was spoke, 
 Till noble Angus silence broke ; 
 
 And he a solemn sacred plight 
 Did to St Bride of Douglas make, 
 That he a pilgrimage would take 
 To Melrose Abbey, for the sake 
 
 Of Michael's restless sprite. 
 Then each, to ease his troubled breast, 
 To some blessed saint his prayers addressed ;
 
 SOS 
 
 Some to St Modan made their vows, 
 
 Some to St Mary of the Lowes, 
 
 Some to the Holy Rood of Lisle, 
 
 Some to our Lady of the Isle ; 
 
 Each did his patron witness make, 
 
 That he such pilgrimage would take, 
 
 And Monks should sing, and bells should toll, 
 
 All for the weal of Michael's soul. 
 
 While vows were ta'en, and prayers were prayed, 
 
 'Tis said the noble Dame, dismayed, 
 
 Renounced, for aye, dark magic's aid. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Nought of the bridal will I tell, 
 Which after in short space befel ; 
 Nor how brave sons and daughters fair 
 Blessed Teviot's Flower, and Cranstoun's heir: 
 After such dreadful scene, 'twere vain 
 To wake the note of mirth again.
 
 204 
 
 More meet it were to mark the day 
 Of penitence and prayer divine, 
 
 When pilgrim-chiefs, -in sad array, 
 Sought Melrose' holy shrine. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 With naked foot, and sackcloth vest, 
 And arms enfolded on his breast, 
 
 Did every pilgrim go ; 
 The standers-by might hear uneath, 
 Footstep, or voice, or high-drawn breath, 
 
 Through all the lengthened row : 
 No lordly look, nor martial stride, 
 Gone was their glory, sunk their pride, 
 
 Forgotten their renown ; 
 Silent and slow, like ghostSj they glide 
 To the high altar's hallowed side, 
 
 And there they kneeled them down : 
 Above the suppliant chieftains wave 
 The banners of departed brave ;
 
 205 
 
 Beneath the lettered stones were laid 
 The ashes of their fathers dead ; 
 From many a garnished niche around, 
 Stern saints, and tortured martyrs, frowned. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 And slow up the dim aisle afar, 
 With sable cowl and scapular, 
 And snow-white stoles, in order due, 
 The holy Fathers, two and two, 
 
 In long procession came ; 
 Taper, and host, and book they bare, 
 And holy banner, flourished fair 
 
 With the Redeemer's name : 
 Above the prostrate pilgrim band 
 The ntitred Abbot stretched his hand, 
 
 And blessed them as they kneeled ; 
 With holy cross he signed them all, 
 And prayed they might be sage in hall, 
 
 And fortunate in field.
 
 206 
 
 Then mass was sung, and prayers were said, 
 
 And solemn requiem for the dead ; 
 
 And bells tolled out their mighty peal, 
 
 For the departed spirit's weal ; 
 
 And ever in the office close 
 
 The hymn of intercession rose ; 
 
 And far the echoing aisles prolong 
 
 The awful burthen of the song, 
 DIES IR^:, DIES ILLA, 
 SOLVET SJECLUM IN FAVILLA ; 
 
 / 
 
 While the pealing organ rung ; 
 Were it meet with sacred strain 
 To close my lay, so light and vain, 
 
 Thus the holy Fathers sung. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 HYMN FOR THE DEAD. 
 
 That day of wrath, that dreadful day, 
 When heaven and earth shall pass away, 
 What power shall be the sinner's stay ? 
 How shall he meet that dreadful day ?
 
 207 
 
 When, shrivelling like a parched scroll, 
 The flaming heavens together roll ; 
 When louder yet, and yet more dread, 
 Swells the high trump that wakes the dead ; 
 
 O ! on that day, that wrathful day, 
 When man to judgment wakes from clay, 
 Be THOU the trembling sinner's stay, 
 Though heaven and earth shall pass away ! 
 
 HUSHED is the harp the Minstrel gone. 
 
 And did he wander forth alone ? 
 
 Alone, in indigence and age, 
 
 To linger out his pilgrimage ? 
 
 No : close beneath proud Newark's tower, 
 
 Arose the Minstrel's lowly bower ; 
 
 A simple hut ; but there was seen 
 
 The little garden, hedged with green, 
 
 The cheerful hearth, and lattice clean.
 
 208 
 
 There sheltered wanderers, by the blaze, 
 Oft heard the tale of other days ; 
 For much he Joved to ope his door, 
 And give the aid he begged before. 
 So passed the winter's day ; but still, 
 When summer smiled on sweet Bowhill,. 
 And July's eve, with balmy breath, 
 Waved the blue-bells on Newark heath ; 
 When throstles sung in Hare-head shaw, 
 And corn was green on Carterhaugh, 
 And flourished, broad, Blackandro's oak, 
 The aged Harper's soul awoke ! 
 Then would he sing achievements high, 
 And circumstance of chivalry, 
 Till the rapt traveller would stay, 
 Forgetful of the closing day ; 
 And noble youths, the strain to hear, 
 Forsook the hunting of the deer ; 
 And Yarrow, as he rolled along, 
 Bore burden to the Minstrel's song.
 
 NOTES.
 
 NOTES 
 
 * 
 
 ON 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 The feast was over in Branksome tower. St. I. p. 17. 
 In the reign of James I. Sir William Scott, of Buccleuch, 
 chief of the clan bearing that name, exchanged, with Sir Tho- 
 mas Inglis of Manor, the estate of Murdiestone, in Lanark- 
 shire, for one half of the barony of Branksome, or Branx- 
 holm, * lying upon the Teviot, about three miles above 
 Hawick. He was probably induced to this transaction from 
 the vicinity of Branksome to the extensive domain which he 
 possessed in Ettricke forest and in Teviotdale. In the former 
 district he held by occupancy the estate of Buccleuch, f and 
 much of the forest land on the river Ettricke. In Teviotdale, 
 he enjoyed the barony of Eckford, by a grant from Robert II. 
 
 * Branxholm is the proper name of the barony ; but Branksome 
 has been adopted, as suitable to the pronunciation, and more pro- 
 per for poetry. 
 
 t There are no vestiges of any building at Buccleuch, except
 
 212 
 
 to his ancestor, Walter Scott of Kirkurd, for the apprehending 
 of Gilbert Ridderford, confirmed by Robert III., 3d May, 
 1424. Tradition imputes the exchange betwixt Scott and In- 
 glis to a conversation, in which the latter, a man, it would ap- 
 pear, of a mild and forbearing nature, complained much of 
 the injuries which he was exposed to from the English border- 
 ers, who frequently plundered his lands of Branksome. Sir 
 William Scott instantly offered him the estate of Murdiestone, 
 in exchange for that which was subject to such egregious in- 
 convenience. When the bargain was completed, he drily re- 
 marked, that the cattle in Cumberland were as good as those 
 of Teviotdale ; and proceeded to commence a system of repri- 
 sals upon the English, which was regularly pursued by his suc- 
 cessors. In the next reign, James II. granted to Sir Walter 
 Scott of Branksome, and to Sir David, his son, the remaining 
 half of the barony of Branksome, to be held in blanch for the 
 payment of a red rose. The cause assigned for the grant is, 
 their brave and faithful exertions in favour of the king against 
 the house of Douglas, with whom James had been recently 
 tugging for the throne of Scotland. This charter is dated the 
 
 the site of a chapel, where, according to a tradition current in the 
 time of Scott of Satchells, many of the ancient barons of Buc- 
 cleuch lie buried. There is also said to have heen a mill near 
 this solitary spot ; an extraordinary circumstance, as little or no 
 corn grows within several miles of Buccleuch. Satchells says it 
 was used to grind corn for the hounds of the chieftain. ,
 
 213 
 
 2d February, 1443 ; and, in the same month, part of the ba- 
 rony of Langholm, and many lands in Lanarkshire, were con- 
 ferred upon Sir Walter and his son by the same monarch. 
 
 After the period of the exchange with Sir Thomas Inglis, 
 Branksome became the principal seat of the Buccleuch family. 
 The castle was enlarged and strengthened by Sir David Scott, 
 the grandson of Sir William, its first possessor. But, in 1570-1, 
 the vengeance of Elizabeth, provoked by the inroads of Buc- 
 cleuch, and his attachment to the cause of Queen Mary, de- 
 stroyed the castle, and laid waste the lands of Branksome. In 
 the same year the castle was repaired and enlarged by Sir Wal- 
 ter Scott, its brave possessor ; but the work was not completed 
 until after his death, in 1574, when the widow finished the 
 building. This appears from the following inscriptions. Around 
 a stone,- bearing the arms of Scott of Buccleucb, appears the 
 following legend : " SIR W. SCOTT, OF BRANXHEIM KNYT YOE 
 OF SIR WILLIAM SCOTT OF KIRKURD KNYT BEGAN YE WORK 
 UPON YE 24 OF MARCHE 1571 ZEIR QUHA DEPARTIT AT GOD'S 
 PLEISOUR YE 17 APRIL 1574." On a similar copartment are 
 sculptured the arms of Douglas, with this inscription, " DAME 
 MARGARET DOUGLAS HIS SPOUS COMPLETIT THE FORSAID 
 WORK IN OCTOBER 1576." Over an arched door is inscribed 
 the following moral verse : 
 
 IN. VARLD. IS. NOCHT. NATURE. HES. THOUGHT. YAT. SAL. 
 
 LEST. AY. 
 
 THARFORE. SERVE. GOD. KEIP. VEIL. YE. ROD. THY, FAME. SAL. 
 NOCHT. DEKAY. 
 
 SIR VALTER SCOT OF BRANXHOLM KNIGHT. MARGARET Doc- 
 
 6LAS 1571.
 
 214 
 
 Branksome Castle continued to be the principal seat of the 
 Buccleuch family, while security was any object in their choice 
 of a mansion. It has been the residence of the commissioners 
 or chamberlains of the family. From the various alterations 
 which the building has undergone, it is not only greatly restrict- 
 ed in its dimensions, but retains little of the castellated form, 
 if we except one square tower of massy thickness, being the 
 only part of the original building which now remains. The 
 whole forms a handsome modern residence, and is now inha- 
 bited by my respected friend, Adam Ogilvy, Esq. of Hartwood- 
 myres, commissioner of his Grace the Duke of Buccleuch. 
 
 The extent of the ancient edifice can still be traced by some 
 vestiges of its foundation, and its strength is obvious from the 
 situation, on a deep bank surrounded by the Teviot, and flank- 
 ed by a deep ravine, formed by a precipitous brook. It was 
 anciently surrounded by wood, as appears from the survey of 
 Roxburghshire, made for Font's Atlas, and preserved in the 
 Advocates' Library. This wood was cut about fifty years ago, 
 but is now replaced by the thriving plantations which have 
 been formed by the noble proprietor, for miles around the an- 
 cient mansion of his forefathers. 
 
 Nine and twenty knights of fame 
 Hung their shields in Branksome Hall. St. III. p. 18. 
 The ancient barons of Buccleuch, both from feudal splenr 
 dour, and from their frontier situation, retained in their house-
 
 215 
 
 hold, at Branksome, a number of gentlemen of their own 
 name, who held lands from their chief, for the military service 
 of watching and warding his castle. Satchells tells us, in his 
 doggrel poetry, 
 
 No baron was better served in Britain ; 
 
 The barons of Buckleugh they kept their call, 
 
 Four and twenty gentlemen in their hall, 
 
 All being of his name and kin ; 
 
 Each two had a servant to wait upon them ; 
 
 Before supper and dinner, most renowned, 
 
 The bells rung and the trumpets sowned ; 
 
 And more than that, I do confess, 
 
 They kept four and twenty pensioners. 
 
 Think not I lie, nor do me blame, 
 
 For the pensioners I can all name : 
 
 There's men alive, elder than I, 
 
 They know if I speak truth, or lie j 
 
 Every pensioner a room * did gain, 
 
 For service done and to be done ; 
 
 This I'll let the reader understand, 
 
 The name both of the men and land, 
 
 AVhich they possessed, it is of truth, 
 
 Both from the lairds and lords of Buckleugh. 
 
 Accordingly, dismounting from his Pegasus, Satchells gives 
 us, in prose, the names of twenty-four gentlemen, younger 
 brothers of ancient families, who were pensioners to the house 
 of Buccleuch, and describes the lands which each possessed for 
 his border service. In time of war with England, the garrison 
 
 * Room, portion of land.
 
 216 
 
 was doubtless augmented. Satchells adds, "These twenty- 
 three pensioners, all of his own name of Scott, and Walter 
 Gladstanes of Whitelaw, a near cousin of my Lord's, as afore- 
 said, were ready on all occasions, when his honour pleased 
 cause to advertise them. It is known to many of the country 
 better than it is to me, that the rent of these lands, which the 
 lairds and lords of Buccleuch did freely bestow upon their 
 friends, will amount to above twelve or fourteen thousand 
 merks a-year." History of the name of Scot, p. 45. An im- 
 mense sum in those times. 
 
 And with Jedwood-axe at saddle-bow. St. V. p. 19. 
 " Of a truth," says Froissart, " the Scottish cannot boast 
 great skill with the bow, but rather bear axes, with which, in 
 time of need, they give heavy strokes." The Jedwood axe was 
 a sort of partizan, used by horsemen, as appears from the arms 
 of Jedburgh, which bear a cavalier mounted, and armed with 
 this weapon. It is also called a Jedwood or Jeddart staff. 
 
 They watch against Southern force and guile, 
 Lest Scroope, or Howard, or Percy's powers, 
 Threaten Branksomtfs lordly towers, 
 From Warkworth, or Naworth, or merry Carlisle. 
 
 St. VI. p. 20. 
 
 Branksome Castle was continually exposed to the attacks of 
 the English, both from its situation and the restless military 
 
 disposition of its inhabitants, who were seldom on good terms 
 
 4
 
 217 
 
 with their neighbours. The following letter from the Earl of 
 Northumberland to Henry VIII. in 1533, gives an account of 
 a successful inroad of the English, in which the country was 
 plundered up to the gates of the castle, although the invaders 
 failed in their principal object, which was, to kill, or make pri- 
 soner, the laird of Buccleuch. It occurs in the Cotton MS. 
 Calig. B. VIII. f. 222. 
 
 " Pleaseth yt your most gracious highnes to be aduertised, 
 that my comptroller with Raynald Carnaby, desyred licence of 
 me to invade the real me of Scotland, for the annoysaunce of 
 your highnes euemys, where they thought best exploit by 
 theyme might be done, and to haue to concur withe theyme 
 the inhabitants of Northumberland, suche as was towards me 
 according to theyre assembly, and as by theyre discrecions 
 vppone the same they shulde thinke most convenient; and soo 
 they dyde mete vppon Monday, before nyght, being the iii day 
 of this instant monethe, at Wawhope> uppon northe Tyne wa- 
 ter, above Tyndaill, where they were to the number of xv c 
 men, and soo invadet Scotland, at the hour of viii of the clok 
 at nyght, at a place called Whele Causay ; and before xi of the 
 clok dyd send forth a forrey of Tyndaill and Ryddisdail, and 
 laide all the resydewe in a bushment, and actyvely dyd set 
 vpon a towne called Branxholm, where the lord of Buclough 
 dwellythe, and purpesed theymeselves with a trayne for hvm 
 lyke to his accustommed manner, in rysynge to all frayes; 
 albeit, that knyght he was not at home, and soo they brynt 
 the said Branxholm, and other townes, as to say Whichestre,
 
 218 
 
 Whichestre-helme, and Whelley, and haid ordered theyrae- 
 self soo, that sundry of the said Lord Buclough's servants, who 
 dyd issue fourthe of his gates, was takyn prisoners. They dyd 
 not leve one house, one stak of come, nor one shyef, without 
 the gate of the said Lord Buclough vnbrynt ; and thus scry- 
 maged and frayed, supposing the Lord of Buclough to be 
 within iii or iiii rayles to have trayned him to the bushment ; 
 and soo in the breyking of the day dyd the forrey and the 
 bushraeut mete, and reculed homeward, making theyr way 
 westward from theyre invasion to be over Lyddersdaill, as in- 
 tending yf the fray frome theyre furst entry by the Scotts 
 waiches, or otherwyse by warnyng shulde haue bene gyven to 
 Gedworth and the countrey of Scotland theyreabouts of theyre 
 invasion ; whiche Gedworth is from the Wheles Causay, vi 
 myles, that thereby the Scots shulde have comen further vnto 
 theyme, and more owte of ordre ; and soo vpon sundry good 
 consideracons, before they entered Lyddersdaill, as well ac- 
 eompting the inhabitants of the same to be towards your high- 
 ness, and to enforce theyme the more therby, as alsoo too put 
 nn occasion of suspect to the kinge of Scotts and his counsaill, 
 to be taken anenst theyme, amonges theymeselves, maid pro- 
 clamacions oommaunding vpon payne of dethe, assurance to 
 be for the said inhabitants of Lyddersdaill, without any pre- 
 judice or hurt to be done by any Inglysman vnto theyme, and 
 soo in good ordre abowte the howrc of ten of the clok before 
 none, vpponc Tewisday, dyd pas through the said Lyddersdaill, 
 when dyd come diverse of the said inhabitants there to my
 
 219 
 
 servauntes, under the said assurance, efferring theymeselfs with 
 any service they couthe make ; and thus, thanks be to Godde, 
 your highnes' subjects abovvte the howre of xii of the clok at 
 none the same day, came into this youre highness realme, 
 bringing wt theyme above xl Scottsmen prisoners, one of 
 theyme named Scot, of the surname and kyn of the said Lord 
 of Buclough, and of his household ; they brought alsoo ccc 
 nowte, and above Ix horse and mares, keping in savetie frome 
 losse or hurte all your said highnes subjects. There was alsoo 
 a towne called Newbyggins, by diverse fotmen of Tyndai'l 
 and Ryddesdaill takyn vp of the night, and spoyled, when 
 was slayne ii Scottsmen of the said towne, and many Scotts 
 there hurte ; your highnes subjects was xiiii myles within the 
 grounde of Scotland, and is frome my house at Werkworthe, 
 above Ix miles of the most evill passage, where great snawes 
 dothe lye ; heretofore the same townes nowe brynt haith not 
 at any tyme in the mynd of man in any warrs been enterprised 
 unto nowe ; your subjects were therto more encouraged for the 
 better advancement of your highnes service, the said Lord of 
 Buclough beyng always a mortall enemy to this your graces 
 realme, and he dyd say within xiiii days before, he woulde see 
 who durst lye near hym, wt many other cruell words, the 
 knowledge whereof was certaynly haid to my said servaunts, 
 before theyre enterprice maid vppon him ; most humbly be- 
 seeching your majesty that youre highnes thanks may concur 
 vnto theyme, whose names be here inclosed, and to have in 
 your most gracious memory, the paynfull and diligent service
 
 220 
 
 of my pore servaunte Wharton, and thus, as I am most boun- 
 
 den, shall dispose wt them that be vnder me f 
 
 annoysaunce of your highnes enemys." In resentment of this 
 foray, Buccleuch, with other border chiefs, assembled an army 
 of 3000, with which they penetrated into Northumberland, and 
 laid waste the country as far as the banks of Bramish. They 
 baffled, or defeated, the English forces opposed to them, and 
 returned loaded with prey. PINKERTON'S History, Vol. II. 
 p. 318. 
 
 Bards long shall tell, 
 
 How Lord Walter fell. St. VII. p. 21. 
 Sir Walter Scott of Buccleuch succeeded to his grandfather, 
 Sir David, in 1492. He was a brave and powerful baron, and 
 warden of the west marches of Scotland. His death was the 
 consequence of a feud betwixt the Scotts and Kerrs, the histo- 
 ry of which is necessary, to explain repeated allusions in the 
 romance. 
 
 In the year 1526, in the words of Piscottie, " The Earl of 
 Angus, and the rest of the Douglasses, ruled all which they 
 liked, and no man durst say the contrary; wherefore the king 
 (James V. then a minor) was heavily displeased, and would 
 fain have been out of their hands, if he might by any way : 
 And to that effect wrote a quiet and secret letter with his own 
 hand, and sent it to the laird of Buccleuch, beseeching him 
 that he would come with his kin and friends, and all the force 
 that he might be, and meet him at Melross, at his home-pas-
 
 221 
 
 sing, and there to take him out of the Douglasses hands, and 
 to put him to liberty, to use himself among the lave (rest) of 
 his lords, as he thinks expedient. 
 
 " This letter was quietly directed, and sent by one of the 
 king's own secret servants, which was received very thankful- 
 ly by the laird of Buckleuch, who was very glad thereof, to be 
 put to such charges and familiarity with this prince, and did 
 great diligence to perform the king's writing, and to bring the 
 matter to pass as the king desired : And to that effect conve- 
 ned all his kin and friends, and all that would do for him, to 
 ride with him to Melross, when he knew of the king's home- 
 coming. And so he brought with him six hundred spears, of 
 Liddesdale, and Annandale, and countrymen, and clans there- 
 about, and held themselves quiet while that the king returned 
 out of Jedburgh, and came to Melross, to remain there all that 
 night. 
 
 u But when the Lord Hume, Cessfoord, and Fernyhirst (the 
 chiefs of the clan of Kerr), took their leave of the king, and 
 returned home, then appeared the Lord of Buckleuch in sight, 
 and his company with him, in an arrayed battle, intending to 
 have fulfilled the king's petition, and therefore came stoutly 
 forward on the back side of Haliden hill. By that the Earl of 
 Angus, with George Douglas, his brother, and sundry other 
 of his friends, seeing this army coming, they marvelled what 
 the matter meant ; while at the last they knew the laird of 
 Buccleuch, with a certain company of the thieves of Annan- 
 dale. With him they were less affeared, and made them man-
 
 fully to the field contrary them, and said to the king in this 
 manner, ' Sir, yon is Buckleuch, and thieves of Annandale 
 with him, to unbeset your Grace from the gate (*. e. interrupt 
 your passage). I vow to God they shall either fight or flee ; 
 and ye shall tarry here on this know, and my brother George 
 with you, with any other company you please ; and I shall 
 pass, and put yon thieves off the ground, and rid the gate unto 
 your Grace, or else die for it." The king tarried still, as was 
 devised; and George Douglas with him, and sundry other 
 lords, such as the Earl of Lennox and the Lord Erskine, and 
 some of the king's own servants; but all the lave (rest) past 
 with the Earl of Angus to the field against the laird of Buc- 
 cleuch, who joyned and countered cruelly both the said par- 
 ties in the field of Darnelinver, t either against other, with 
 uncertain victory. But at the last, the Lord Hume, hearing 
 word of that matter how it stood, returned again to the king in 
 all possible haste, with him the lairds of Cessfoord and Fair- 
 nyhirst, to the number of fourscore spears, and set freshly on 
 the. lap and wing of the laird of Buccleuch's field, and shortly 
 bare them backward to the ground ; which caused the laird of 
 Buccleuch, and the rest of his friends, to go back and flee, 
 whom they followed and chased ; and especially the lairds of 
 Cessfoord andFairnihirst followed furiouslie, till at the foot of 
 a path the laird of Cessfoord was slain by the stroke of a spear 
 by an Elliot, who was then servant to the laird of Buccleuch. 
 
 f Darnwick, near Melrose. The place of conflict is still called 
 Skinner's Field, from a corruption of Skirmish, Field.
 
 223 
 
 But when the laird of Cessfoord was slain, the chase ceased. 
 The Earl of Angus returned again with great merriness and 
 victory, and thanked God that he saved him from that chance, 
 and passed with the king to Melross, where they remained all 
 that night. On the morn they past to Edinburgh with the king, 
 who was very sad and dolorous of the slaughter of the laird of 
 Cessfoord, and many other gentlemen and yeomen slain by the 
 laird of Buccleuch, containing the number of fourscore and fif- 
 teen, which died in defence of the king, and at the command 
 of his writing." 
 
 I am not the first who has attempted to celebrate in verse 
 the renown of this ancient baron, and his hazardous attempt to 
 procure his sovereign's freedom. In a Scottish Latin poet we 
 find the following verses : 
 
 VALTERIUS SCOTTJS B.MCLUCHIUS. 
 
 Egregio suscepto facinore libertate Regis, ac aliSs rebus gesti* 
 clarus sub JACOBO V. A?. Christi, 1526. 
 
 Intentata aliis, nullique audita priorum 
 
 Audet, nee pavidum morsve, metusve quatit, 
 Libertatem aliis soliti transcribere Reges: 
 
 Subreptam bane Regi restituisse paras. 
 Si vincis, quanta 6 succedunt prsemia dextra;, 
 
 Sin victus, falsas spes jace, pone animam. 
 Hostica vis nocuit : stant akffi robora mentis 
 
 Atque decus. Vincet, Rege probante, fides. 
 INSITA queis animis virtus, quosque acrior ardor? 
 
 Obsidet, obscuris nox premat an tenebris ? 
 
 Heroes ex omni Historia Scotica lectissimi, Auctore Jolian. Jon- 
 stonio Abredonense Scoto, 1603.
 
 224 
 
 In consequence of the battle of Melrose, there ensued a 
 deadly feud betwixt the names of Scott and Kerr, which, in 
 spite of all means used to bring about an agreement, raged for 
 many years upon the Borders. Buccleuch was imprisoned, and 
 his estates forfeited, in the year 1535, for levying war against 
 the Kerrs, and restored by act of Parliament, dated 15 March, 
 1542, during the regency of Mary of Lorraine. But the most 
 signal act of violence, to which this quarrel gave rise, was, the 
 murder of Sir Walter himself, who was slain by the Kerrs in 
 the streets of Edinburgh, in 1552. This is the event alluded 
 to in Stanza VII. ; and the poem is supposed to open shortly 
 after it had taken place. 
 
 No ! vainly to each holy shrine, 
 
 In mutual pilgrimage, they drew. St. VIII. p. 21. 
 
 Among other expedients resorted to for staunching the feud 
 betwixt the Scotts and the Kerrs, there was a bond executed, 
 in 1529, between the heads of each clan, binding themselves 
 to perform reciprocally the four principal pilgrimages of Scot- 
 land, for the benefit of the souls of those of the opposite name 
 who had fallen in the quarrel. This indenture is printed in 
 the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, Vol. I. But either it 
 never took effect, or else the feud was renewed shortly after- 
 ward. 
 
 Such pactions were not uncommon in feudal times ; and, as 
 might be expected, they were often, as in the present case, 
 void of the effect desired. When Sir Walter Mauny, the re-
 
 225 
 
 nowned follower of Edward III., had taken the town, of Ryoll, 
 in Gascony, he remembered to have heard that his father lay 
 there buried, and offered a hundred crowns to any who could 
 show him his grave. A very old man appeared before Sir 
 Walter, and informed him of the manner of his father's death, 
 and the place of his sepulture. It seems the Lord of Mauny 
 had, at a great tournament, unhorsed, and wounded to the 
 death, a, Gascon knight, of the house of Mirepoix, whose kins- 
 man was bishop of Cambray. For this deed he was held at 
 feud by the relations of the knight, until he agreed to under- 
 take a pilgrimage to the shrine of St James of Compostella, 
 for the benefit of the soul of the deceased. But as he re- 
 turned through the town of Ryoll, after accomplishment of his 
 vow, he was beset, and treacherously slain, by the kindred of 
 the knight whom he had killed. Sir Walter, guided by the 
 old man, visited the lowly tomb of his father; and. having 
 read the inscription, which was in Latin, he caused the body 
 to be raised, and transported to his native city of Valenciennes, 
 where masses were, in the days of Froissart, duly said for the 
 soul of the unfortunate pilgrim. Cronycle of FROISSART, 
 Vol. I. p. 122. 
 
 While Cessford owns the rule of Car. St. VIII. p. 22. 
 The family of Ker, Kerr, or Car,* was very powerful on the 
 
 * The name is spelled differently by the various families who 
 bear it. Car is selected, not as the most correct, bat as the most 
 poetical reading.
 
 226* 
 
 Border. Fynes Morrison remarks, in his Travels, that their 
 influence extended from the village of Preston-Grange, in Lo- 
 thian, to the limits of England. Cessford Castle, the ancient 
 baronial residence of the family, is situated near the village of 
 Morebattle, within two or three miles of the Cheviot Hills. 
 It has been a place of great strength and consequence, but 
 is now ruinous. Tradition affirms, that it was founded by Hal- 
 bert, or Habby Kerr, a gigantic warrior, concerning whom 
 many stories are current in Roxburghshire. The Duke of 
 Roxburghe represents Ker of Cessford. A distinct and power- 
 ful branch of the same name own the Marquis of Lothian as 
 their chief: Hence the distinction betwixt Kerrs of Cessford 
 and Fairnibirst. 
 
 Before Lord Cranstoun she should wed. St X. p. 23. 
 The Cranstouns, Lord Cranstoun, are an ancient Border fa- 
 mily, whose chief seat was at Crailing, in Teviotdale. They 
 were at this time at feud with the clan of Scot ; for it appears 
 that the lady of Buccleuch, in 1557, beset the laird of Cran- 
 stoun, seeking his life. Nevertheless, the same Cranstoun, 
 or perhaps his son, was married to a daughter of the same 
 lady. 
 
 Of BethunJs line of Picardie. St. XI. p. 24. 
 The Bethunes were of French origin, and derived their 
 name from a small town in Artois. There were several dis- 
 tinguished families of the Bethunes in the neighbouring pro-
 
 227 
 
 vince of Picardie; they numbered among their descendants 
 the celebrated Due de Sully ; and the name was accounted 
 among the most noble in France, while aught noble remained 
 in that country. The family of Bethune, or Beatoun, in Fife, 
 produced three learned and dignified prelates; namely, Car- 
 dinal Beaton, and two successive archbishops of Glasgow, all 
 of whom flourished about the date of the romance. Of this 
 family was descended Dame Janet Beaton, Lady Buccleuch, 
 widow of Sir Walter Scott of Branksome. She was a woman 
 of masculine spirit, as appeared from her riding at the head 
 of her son's clan, after her husband's murder. She also pos- 
 sessed the hereditary abilities of her family in such a degree, 
 that the superstition of the vulgar imputed them to superna- 
 tural knowledge. With this was mingled, by faction, the foul 
 accusation, of her having influenced Queen Mary to the murder 
 of her husband. One of the placards, preserved in Buchanan's 
 Detection, accuses of Darnley's murder " the Erie Bothwell, 
 Mr James Balfour, the persoun of Fliske Mr David Chal- 
 mers, black Mr John Spens, wha was principal deviser of the 
 murder; and the Quene, assenting thairto, throw the persua- 
 sioun of the Erie Bothwell, and the witchcraft of Lady Buck- 
 teuch." 
 
 He learned the art, that none may name, 
 
 In Padua, far beyond the sea. St. XI. p. 24. 
 Padua was long supposed, by the Scottish peasants, to be the 
 principal school of necromancy. The Earl of Gowrie, slain at?
 
 Perth in 1600, pretended, during his studies in Italy, to have 
 acquired some knowledge of the cabala, by which he said he 
 could charm snakes, and work other miracles ; and, in particu- 
 lar, could produce children without the intercourse of the sexes. 
 See the examination of Wemyss of Bogie before the Privy 
 Council, concerning Cowrie's conspiracy. 
 
 His form no darkening shadow traced 
 
 Upon the sunny wall. St. XI. p. 24. 
 
 The shadow of a necromancer is independent of the sun. 
 Glyeas informs us, that Simon Magus caused his shadow to go 
 before him, making people believe it was an attendant spi- 
 rit. HEYWOOD'S Hierarchic, p. 475. The vulgar conceive, 
 that when a class of students have made a certain progress in 
 their mystic studies, they are obliged to run through a subter- 
 raneous hall, where the devil literally catches the hindmost in 
 the race, unless he crosses the hall so speedily, that the arch- 
 enemy can only apprehend his shadow. In the latter case, the 
 person of the sage never after throws any shade ; and those, 
 who have thus lost their shadow, always prove the best magi- 
 cians. 
 
 The viewless forms of air. St. XII. p: 24. 
 The Scottish vulgar, without having any very defined no- 
 tion of their attributes, believe in the existence of an interme- 
 diate class of spirits residing in the air, or in the waters; to 
 whose agency they ascribe floods, storms, and all such pheno-
 
 229 
 
 mena as their own philosophy cannot readily explain. They 
 are supposed to interfere in the affairs of mortals, sometimes 
 with a malevolent purpose, and sometimes with milder views. 
 It is said, for example, that a gallant Baron, having returned 
 from the Holy Land to his castle of Drummelziar, found his 
 fair lady nursing a healthy child, whose birth did not by any 
 means correspond to the date of his departure. Such an oc- 
 currence, to the credit of the dames of the crusaders be it spo- 
 ken, was so rare, that it required a miraculous solution. The 
 lady, therefore, was believed, when she averred confidently, 
 that the Spirit of the Tweed had issued from the river while 
 she was walking upon its bank, and compelled her to submit 
 to his embraces ; and the name of Tweedie was bestowed up- 
 on the child, who afterwards became Baron of Drummelziar, 
 and chief of a powerful clan. To those spirits were also ascrib- 
 ed, in Scotland, thg 
 
 "Airy tongues, that syllable men's names 
 On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses." 
 
 When the workmen were engaged in erecting the ancient 
 church of Old Deer, in Aberdeenshire. upon a small hill called 
 Bissau, they were surprised to find that the work was impeded 
 by supernatural obstacles. At length, the Spirit of the River 
 was heard to say, 
 
 It is not here, if is not here, 
 
 That ye shall build the church of Deer;
 
 230 
 
 But on Taptillery, 
 
 Where many a corpse shall lie. 
 
 The site of the edifice was accordingly transferred to Taptil- 
 lery, an eminence at some distance from the place where the 
 building had been commenced. MACFARLANE'S MSS. I 
 mention these popular fables, because the introduction of the 
 River and Mountain Spirits may not, at first sight, seem to ac- 
 cord with the general tone of the romance, and the supersti- 
 tions of the country where the scene is laid. 
 
 A fancied moss-trooper, &c. St. XIX. p. 29. 
 
 This was the usual appellation of the marauders upon the 
 Borders ; a profession diligently pursued by the inhabitants on 
 both sides, and by none more actively and successfully than 
 by Buccleuch's clan. Long after the union of the crowns, the 
 moss-troopers, although sunk in reputation, and no longer en- 
 joying the pretext of national hostility, continued to pursue 
 their calling. 
 
 Fuller includes, among the wonders of Cumberland, ' 'The 
 Moss-troopers; so strange is the condition of their living, if 
 considered in their Original, Increase, Height, Decay, and 
 Ruine. 
 
 1. " Original. I conceive them the same called Borderers 
 in Mr Cambden ; and characterized by him to be, a wild and 
 warlike people. They are called Moss-troopers, because dwel- 
 ling in the mosses, and riding in troops together. They dwell
 
 231 
 
 in the bounds, or meeting, of the two kingdoms, but obey the 
 laws of neither. They come to church as seldom as the 29th 
 of February comes into the kalendar. 
 
 2. " Increase. When England and Scotland were united in 
 Great Britain, they that formerly lived by hostile incursions, 
 betook themselves to the robbing of their neighbours. Their 
 sons are free of the trade by their fathers' copy. They are 
 like to Job, not in piety and patience, but in sudden plenty 
 and poverty ; sometimes having flocks and herds in the morn- 
 ing, none at night, and perchance many again next day. They 
 may give for their mottoe, vivitur ex rapto, stealing from 
 their honest neighbours what they sometimes require. They 
 are a nest of hornets : strike one, and stir all of them about 
 your ears. Indeed, if they promise safely to conduct a tra- 
 veller, they will perform it with the fidelity of a Turkish ja- 
 nizary ; otherwise, woe be to him that falleth into their quar- 
 ters! 
 
 3. u Height. Amounting, forty years since, to some thou- 
 sands. These compelled the vicenage to purchase their secu- 
 rity, by paying a constant rent to them. When in their great- 
 est height, they had two great enemies, the Lares of the Land, 
 and the Lord William Howard of Naworth. He sent many of 
 them to Carlisle, to that place where the officer doth always 
 his work by day light. Yet these Moss-troopers, if possibly 
 they could procure the pardon for a condemned person of 
 their company, would advance great sums out of their com-
 
 232 
 
 mon stock, who, in such a case, cast in their lots amongst them- 
 selves, and all have one purse. 
 
 4. " Decay. Caused by the wisdom, valour, and diligence, of 
 the Right Honourable Charles Lord Howard, Earl of Carlisle, 
 who routed these English tories with his regiment. His seve- 
 rity unto them will not only be excused, but commended, by 
 
 i 
 the judicious, who consider how our great lawyer doth describe 
 
 such persons, who are solemnly outlawed. BRACTON, Lib. 8. 
 tract. 2. cap. 11. ' Ex tune gerunt caput lupinum, ita quod 
 sine judiciali inquisitione rite per eant, et secum suum judicium 
 portent ; et merito sine lege pereunt, qui secundum legem vivere 
 recusarunt.' ' Thenceforward (after that they are outlawed) 
 they wear a woolf's head, so that they lawfully may be de- 
 stroyed, without any judicial inquisition, as who carry their 
 own condemnation about them, and deservedly die without 
 law, because they refused to live according to law.' 
 
 5. " Ruine. Such was the success of this worthy lord's seve- 
 rity, that he made a thorough reformation among them ; and, 
 the ringleaders being destroyed, the rest are reduced to legall 
 obedience, and so, I trust, will continue." FULLER'S Worthies 
 of England, p. 2 16. 
 
 The last public mention of moss-troopers occurs during the 
 civil wars of the 17th century, when many ordinances of par- 
 liament were directed against them.
 
 233 
 
 How the brave boy, in future war, 
 Should tame the Unicorn's pride, 
 
 Exalt the Crescent and the Star. St. XIX. p. 29. 
 The arms of the Kerrs of Cessford were, Vert on a chive- 
 ron, betwixt three unicorns' heads erased argent, three mollets 
 sable; crest, an unicorn's head erased proper. The Scotts of 
 Buccleuch bore, Or on a bend azure ; a star of six points be- 
 twixt two crescents of the first. 
 -*AM>,r- -j >*<** '-.' ': '. : /'" _?: - : - 
 
 William of Deloraine. St. XX. p. 30. 
 
 The lands of Deloraine are joined to those of Buccleucli, 
 in Ettricke Forest. They were imtnemorially possessed by 
 the Buccleuch family, under the strong title of occupancy, al- 
 though no charter was obtained from the crown until 1545. 
 Like other possessions, the lands of Deloraine were occasion- 
 ally granted by them to vassals, or kinsmen, for Border-ser- 
 vice. Satchells mentions, among the twenty-four gentlemen 
 pensioners of the family, " William Scott, commonly called 
 Cut-at-the-Black, who had the lands of Nether Deloraine for 
 his service." And again, " This William of Deloraine, com- 
 monly called Cut-at-the-Black, was a brother of the ancient 
 house of Haining, which house of Haining is descended from, 
 the ancient house of Hassendean." The lands of Deloraine 
 now give an Earl's title to the descendant of Henry, the se- 
 cond surviving son of the Duchess of Buccleuch and Mon- 
 mouth. I have endeavoured to give William of Deloraine the 
 attributes which characterised the Borderers of his day ; for
 
 234 
 
 which I can only plead Froissart's apology, that " it behoveth, 
 in a lynagc, some to be folyshe and outrageous, to maynteyne 
 and sustayne the peasable." As a contrast to my Marchman, 
 I beg leave to transcribe, from the same author, the speech 
 of Amergot Marcell, a captain of the Adventurous Compa- 
 nions, a robber, and a pillager of the country of Auvergne, 
 who had been bribed to sell his strong-holds, and to assume a 
 more honourable military life under the banners of the Earl of 
 Armagnac. But " when he remembered alle this, he was sor- 
 rowful ; his tresour he thought he wolde not mynysshe ; he was 
 wonte dayly to serche for nevve pyllages, wherbye encresed 
 his profyte, and then he sawe that alle was closed fro' hym. 
 Than he sayde and imagyned, that to pyll and to robbe (all 
 thynge considered) was a good lyfe, and so repented hym of 
 his good doing. On a tyme, he said to his old companyons, 
 ' Sirs, there is no sporte nor glory in this worlde amonge men 
 of warre, but to use suche lyfe as we have done in tyme past. 
 What a joy was it to us when we rode forth at adventure, and 
 somtyme found by the way a riche priour or merchaunt, or a 
 route of mulettes of Mountpellyer, of Narbonne, of Lymens, 
 of Fongans, of Besyers, of Tholous, or of Carcassone, laden 
 with cloth of Brussels, or peltre ware corny nge fro the fayres, 
 or laden with spycery fro Bruges, fro Damas, or fro Alysaun- 
 dre : whatsoever we met, alle was ours, or els ransoumed at 
 our pleasures ; dayly we gate newe money, and the vyllaynes 
 of Auvergne and of Lymosyn dayly provyded and brought to 
 our castell whete mele, good wynes, befies, and fatte motton>
 
 235 
 
 pullayne and wylde foule : We were ever furnyshed as tho we 
 had been kings. When we rode forthe, all the countrey trym- 
 bled for feare : all was ours goying and comynge. Howe tok 
 we Carlast, I and the Bourge of Compayne, and I and Perot 
 of Bernoys took Caluset: how dyd we scale, with lytell ayde, 
 the strong castell of Marquell, pertayning to the Erl Dolphyn : 
 I kept it nat past fyve days, but I receyved for it, on a feyre 
 table, fyve thousande frankes, and forgave one thousande for 
 the love of the Erl Dolphyn's children. By my fayth, this was 
 a fayre and a good lyfe; wherefore I repute myselve sore de- 
 sceyved, in that I have rendered up the fortres of Aloys; for 
 it wolde have kept fro alle the worlde, and the daye that I 
 gave it up, it was fournyshed with vytaylles, to have been kept 
 seven yere without any re-vytaylynge. This Erl of Armynake 
 hath deceyved me : Olyve Barbe, and Perot le Bernoys, shew- 
 ed to me how I shulde repente myselfe : certayne I sore re- 
 pente myselfe of what I have done." FROISSART, Vol. II. 
 p. 195. 
 
 By wily turns, by desperate bounds, 
 
 Had baffled Percy's best blood-hounds. St. XXI. p. 30. 
 The kings and heroes of Scotland, as well as the Border-ri- 
 ders, were sometimes obliged to study how to evade the pur- 
 suit of blood-hounds. Barbour informs us, that Robert Bruce 
 was repeatedly tracked by sleuth-dogs. On one occasion, he 
 escaped by wading a bow-shot down a brook, and thus baffled 
 the scent. The pursuers came up :
 
 236 
 
 ftycht to the burn thai passyt ware, 
 Bot the sleuth-bund made stinting thar, 
 And waueryt lang tyuie ta and Ini, 
 That he na certain gate couth ga ; 
 Till at the last Jhon of Lorn, 
 Perseuvit the huud the sleuth had lorne. 
 
 The Bruce, Book vii. 
 
 A sure way of stopping the dog was to spill blood upon the 
 track, which destroyed the discriminating fineness of his scent. 
 A captive was sometimes sacrificed on such occasions. Hen- 
 ry the Minstrel tells a romantic story of Wallace, founded on 
 this circumstance : The hero's little hand had been joined by 
 an Irishman, named Fawdon, or Fadzean, a dark, savage, and 
 suspicious character. After a sharp skirmish at Black- Erne 
 Side, Wallace was forced to retreat with only sixteen follow- 
 ers. The English pursued with a border sleuth-bratch, or blood- 
 hound : 
 
 In Gelderland there was that bratchel bred, 
 
 Siker of scent, to follow them that fled ; 
 
 So was he used in Eske and Liddesdail, 
 
 While (i. e. till) she gat blood no fleeing might avail. 
 
 In the retreat, Fawdon, tired, or affecting to be so, would 
 go no farther : Wallace, having in vain argued with him, in 
 hasty anger, struck off his head, and continued the retreat. 
 When the English came up, their hound stayed upon the dead 
 body.
 
 237 
 
 The sleuth stopped at Fawdoun, till she stood, 
 Nor farther would fra time she fund the blood. 
 
 The story concludes with a fine Gothic scene of terror. Wal- 
 lace took refuge in the solitary tower of Cask. Here he was 
 disturbed at midnight by the blast of a horn : he sent out his 
 attendants by two and two, but no one returned with tidings. 
 At length, when he was left alone, the sound was heard still 
 louder. The champion descended, sword in hand ; and at the 
 gate of the tower was encountered by the headless spectre of 
 Fawdoun, whom he had slain so rashly. Wallace, in great ter- 
 ror, fled up into the tower, tore open the boards of a window, 
 leapt down fifteen feet in height, and continued his flight up 
 the river. Looking baek to Gask, he discovered the tower on 
 fire, and the form of Fawdoun upon the battlements, dilated to 
 immense size, and holding in his hand a blazing rafter. The 
 Minstrel concludes, 
 
 Trust ryght wele, that all this be sooth, indeed, 
 Supposing it be no point of the creed. 
 
 The Wallace, Book v. 
 
 Mr Ellis has extracted this tale as a sample of Henry's poe- 
 try. Specimens of English Poetry, Vol. I. p. 851. 
 
 Dimly he. viewed the Moat-hill's mound. St. XXV. p. 33. 
 This is a round artificial mount near Hawick, which, from 
 its name (Mor. Ang. Sax. Concilium, Conventus), was probably
 
 238 
 
 anciently used as a place for assembling a national council of 
 the adjacent tribes. There are many such mounds in Scotland, 
 aud they are sometimes, but rarely, of a square form. 
 
 Beneath the tower of Hazeldean. St. XXV. p. 33. 
 The estate of Hazeldean, corruptly Hassendean, belonged 
 formerly to a family of Scotts, thus commemorated by Satch- 
 ells: 
 
 Hassendean came without a call, 
 The ancientest house among them all. 
 
 On Minto-crags the moon-beams glint. St. XXVII. p. 34. 
 A romantic assemblage of cliffs, which rise suddenly above 
 the vale of Teviot, in the immediate vicinity of the family- 
 seat, from which Lord Minto takes his title. A small platform, 
 on a projecting crag, commanding a most beautiful prospect, 
 is termed Barnhills 1 Bed. This Barnhills is said to have been 
 a robber, or outlaw. There are remains of a strong tower be- 
 neath the rocks, where he is supposed to have dwelt, and from 
 which lie derived his name. On the summit of the crags are 
 the fragments of another ancient tower, in a picturesque situa- 
 tion. Among the houses cast down by the Earl of Hartforde, 
 in 1545, occur the towers of Easter Barnhills, and of Minto 
 crag, with Minto town and place. Sir Gilbert Elliot, father to 
 the present Lord Minto, was the author of a beautiful pastoral
 
 239 
 
 song, of which the following is a more correct copy than is 
 usually published. The poetical mantle of Sir Gilbert Elliot 
 has descended to his family. 
 
 My sheep I neglected, I broke my sheep-hook, 
 And all the gay haunts of my youth I forsook : 
 No more for Amyata fresh garlands I wove ; 
 Ambition, T said, would soon cure me of love. 
 But what had my youth with ambition to do? 
 Why left I Amynta ? Why broke I my vow? 
 
 Through regions remote in vain do I rove, 
 And bid the wide world secure me from love. 
 Ah, fool, to imagine, that aught could subdue 
 A love so well-founded, a passion so true ! 
 Ah, give me my sheep, and my sheep-hook restore, 
 And I'll wander from love and Amynta no more 3 
 
 Alas ! 'tis too late at thy fate to repine ! 
 Poor shepherd, Amynta no more can be thine 1 
 Thy tears are all fruitless, thy wishes are vain, 
 The moments neglected return not again. 
 Ah ! what hud my youth with ambition to do? 
 Why left I Amynta ? Why. broke I my vow ? 
 
 Ancient Ridddl'sfair domain. St. XXVIII. p. 55. 
 The family of Riddel have been very long in possession of 
 the barony called Riddell, or Ryedale, part of which still bears 
 the latter name. Tradition carries their antiquity to a point 
 extremely remote ; and is, in some degree, sanctioned by the 
 discovery of two stone coffins, one containing an earthen pot
 
 filled with ashes and arms, bearing a legible date, A. D. 727; 
 the other dated 936, and filled with the bones of a man of gi- 
 gantic size. These coffins were discovered in the foundations 
 of what was, but has long ceased to be, the chapel of Riddell; 
 and as it was argued, with plausibility, that they contained the 
 remains of some ancestors of the family, they were deposited 
 in the modern place of sepulchre, comparatively so termed, 
 though built in 1110. But the following curious and authentic 
 documents warrant most conclusively the epithet of ancient 
 Riddell. 1st, A charter by David I. to Walter Rydale, she- 
 riff of Roxburgh, confirming all the estates of Liliesclive, &c. 
 of which his father, Gervasius de Rydale, died possessed. 
 2dly, A bull of Pope Adrian IV. confirming the will of Wal- 
 ter de Ridale, knight, in favour of his brother Anschittil de 
 Ridale, dated 8th April, 1155. 3dly, A bull of Pope Alexan- 
 der III., confirming the said will of Walter de Ridale, be- 
 queathing to his brother Anschittil the lands of Liliesclive, 
 Whettunes, &c. and ratifying the bargain betwixt Anschittil 
 andlluctredus, concerning the church of Liliesclive, in con- 
 sequence of the mediation of Malcolm II., and confirmed by 
 a charter from that monarch. This bull is dated 17th June, 
 1160. 4thly, A bull of the same Pope, confirming the wilt of 
 Sir Anschittil de Ridale, in favour of his son Walter, convey- 
 ing the said lands of Liliesclive and others, dated 10th March, 
 1120. It is remarkable, that Liiiesclive, otherwise Rydale, or 
 Riddel, and the Whettunes, have descended, through a long 
 train of ancestors, without ever passing into a collateral line,
 
 241 
 
 to the person of Sir John Buchanan Riddell, Bart, of Riddell, 
 the lineal descendant and representative of Sir Anschittel. 
 These circumstances appeared worthy of notice in a Border 
 work. 
 
 'si-' o. nlMy '! >i!flcai 9itJ O 
 .ds glanced his eye o'er Halidon. St. XXX. p. 36. 
 Halidon was an ancient seat of the Kerrs of Cessford, now 
 demolished. About a quarter of a mile to the northward lay 
 the field of battle betwixt Buccleuch and Angus, which is cal- 
 led to this day the Skirmibh Field. See the 4th note on this 
 Canto. 
 
 Old Metros' rose, and fair Tweed ran. St. XXXI. p. 37. 
 The ancient and beautiful monastery of Melrose was found- 
 ed by King David I. Its ruins afford the finest specimen of 
 Gothic architecture, and Gothic sculpture, which Scotland can 
 boast. The stone, of which it is built, though it has resisted 
 the weather for so many ages, retains perfect sharpness, so 
 that even the most minute ornaments seem as entire as when 
 newly wrought. In some of the cloisters, as is hinted in the 
 next Canto, there are representations of flowers, vegetables, 
 &c. carved in stone, with accuracy and precision so delicate, 
 that we almost distrust our senses, when we consider the diffi- 
 culty of subjecting so hard a substance to such intricate and 
 exquisite modulation. This superb convent was dedicated to 
 St Mary, and the monks were of the Cistertian order. At the 
 time of the Reformation, they shared in the general reproach
 
 , 'of sensuality and irregularity, thrown upon the Roman church- 
 -men. The old words of Galashiels, a favourite Scottish air, 
 ran thus : 
 
 O the monks of Melrose made gude kale * 
 On Fridays when they fasted ; 
 
 They wanted neither beef nor ale, 
 As long as their neighbour's lasted. 
 
 - 
 
 * Kale, Broth. 
 
 .jDafcft'ij. o,i ,u njj.'joil; . jo. ^IQ 
 
 rja ^-.-jt.jsrsi^iixi 3 :)>:;':= . ,, ^ ? ..^ 
 
 ' ' J , , 
 
 r-fwaa^teub ftA U-o^f ,;*. 
 
 ,-xr u. ; itoB,,-iw*w& gr. I- vwi ,^ 
 
 , 
 ,*A , *v>--/ tt^w^JSpfe.l^ *isv. ^:tui/. ..v'
 
 NOTES 
 
 ON 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 When silver edges the imagery, 
 
 And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die. 
 
 St. I. p. 44. 
 
 The buttresses, ranged along the sides of the ruins of Mel- 
 rose Abbey, are, according to the Gothic style, richly carved 
 and fretted, containing niches for the statues of saints, and 
 labelled with scrolls, bearing appropriate texts of Scripture. 
 Most of these statues have been demolished. 
 
 - St David's ruined pile. St. I. p. 44. 
 David the First of Scotland purchased the reputation of 
 sanctity, by founding, and liberally endowing, not only the mo- 
 nastery of Melrose, but those of Kelso, Jedburgh, and many 
 others, which led to the well-known observation of his succes- 
 sor, that he was a sore saint for the crown.
 
 244 
 
 Lands and livingf, many a rood. 
 
 Had gifted the shrine for their souls' repose. 
 
 St. II. p. 45. 
 
 The Buccleuch family were great benefactors to the abbey 
 of Melrose. As early as the reign of Robert II., Robert Scott, 
 baron of Murdieston and Rankelburn (now Buccleuch), gave to 
 the monks the lands of Hiukery, in Ettricke forest, pro salute 
 anima su<e. Chartulary of Melrose, 28th May, 1415. 
 
 Prayer know I hardly one ; 
 
 * * :=;=*=. 
 
 Save to patter an Ave Mary, 
 When I ride on a Border foray. St. VI. p. 47: 
 The Borderers were, as may be supposed, very ignorant 
 about religious matters. Colville, in his Paranesis, or Admo- 
 nition, states, that the reformed divines were so far from un- 
 dertaking distamt journies to convert the Heathen, " as I wold 
 wis at God that ye wold only go bot to the Iliclancls and Bor- 
 ders of our own realm, to gain our awin countreymen, who, 
 for lack of preching and ministration of the sacraments, must, 
 with tyme, becum either infedells, or atheists." But we learn, 
 from Lesly, that, however deficient in real religion, they regu- 
 larly told their beads, and never with more zeal tlian when go- 
 ing on a plundering expedition. 
 
 Beneath their feet were the bones of the dead. St. VII. p. 48. 
 The cloisters were frequently used as places of sepulchre.
 
 245 
 
 An instance occurs in Dryburgh Abbey, where the cloister has 
 an inscription, bearing, Hie jacet J rater Archibalds. 
 
 So had he seen, in fair Castile, 
 
 The youth in glittering squadrons start ; 
 
 Sudden the flying jennet wheel, 
 
 And hurl the unexpected dart. St. VIII. p. 48. 
 " By my faith," sayd the Duke of Lancaster, (to a Portu- 
 guese squire) " of all the feates of armes that the Castellyans, 
 and they of your countrey doth use, the castynge of their 
 dartes best pleaseth me, and gladly I wolde se it ; for as I hear 
 say, if they strike one aryght, without he be well armed, the 
 dart will pierce him thrughe." " By my fayth, Sir," sayd the 
 squyer, " ye say trouth ; for I have seen many a grete stroke 
 given with them, which at one time cost us derely, and was 
 to us great displeasure ; for at the said skyrmishe, Sir John 
 Laurence of Coygne was striken with a dart in such wise, that 
 the head perced all the plates of his cote of mayle, and a sacke 
 stopped with sylke, and passed thrughe his body, so that he 
 fell down dead." FROISSART, Vol. II. ch. 44. This mode of 
 fighting with darts was imitated in the military game called 
 Juego de las canas, which the Spaniards borrowed from their 
 Moorish invaders. A Saracen champion is thus described by 
 Froissart : " Among the Sarazyns, there was a yonge knight 
 called Agadinger Dolyferne; he was always wel mounted on a 
 redy and a lyght horse ; it seemed, when the horse ranne, that 
 he did flye in the ayre. The knighte seemed to be a good man
 
 246 
 
 of armes by his dedes ; he bare always of usage three fethered 
 dartes, and rychte well he coulde handle them ; and, according 
 to their custome, he was clene armed, with a long white towell 
 aboute his heed. His apparell was blacke, and his own co- 
 lour browne, and a good horseman. The Crysten men say, 
 they thoughte he dyd such deeds of armes for the love of 
 some yonge ladye of his countrey. And true it was, that he 
 loved entirely the king of Thunes' daughter, named the Lady 
 Azala; she was inherytour to the realme of Thunes, after the 
 discease of the kyng, her father. This Agadinger was sone to 
 the Duke of Olyferne. I can nat telle if they were married 
 together after or nat ; but it was shewed me that this knyght, 
 for love of the sayd ladye, during the siege, did many feats of 
 armes. The knyghtes of Fraunce wold fayne have taken hym ; 
 but they colde never attrape nor inclose him, his horse was 
 so swyft, and so redy to his hand, that alwaies he escaped." 
 Vol.II.ch.ri. 
 
 Thy low and lonely urn, 
 
 O gallant cftief of Ottsrburne. St. X. p. 50. 
 The famous and desperate battle of Otterburne was fought 
 15th August, 1388, betwixt Henry Percy, called Hotspur, and 
 James Earl of Douglas. Both these renowned champions 
 were at the head of a chosen body of troops, and they were 
 rivals in military fame; so that Froissart affirms, " Of all the 
 battaylles and encounteryngs that I have made mencion of 
 here before in all this hystory, great or sraalle, this bataylc
 
 247 
 
 that I treat of nowe was one of the sorest and best foughterjj 
 without cowardes or faynte hertes ; for there was neyther 
 knyghte nor squyer but that dyde his devoyre, and fought hande 
 to hande. This batayle was lyke the batayle of Becherell, 
 the which was valiauutlye fought and endured." The issue of 
 the conflict is well known : Percy was made prisoner, and the 
 Scots won the day, dearly purchased by the death of their 
 gallant general, the Earl of Douglas, who was slain in the ac- 
 tion. He was buried at Melrose beneath the high altar. 
 " His obsequye was done reverently, and on his body layde a 
 tombe of stone, and his baner hangyng over hym." FROIS- 
 SART, Vol. II. p. 161. 
 
 io ?J-iJ <(>!<... ! 
 
 Dark knight of Liddesdale. St. X. p. 50. 
 
 William Douglas, called the knight of Liddesdale, flourished 
 during the reign of David II.; and was so distinguished by his 
 valour, thas he was called the Flower of Chivalry. Neverthe- 
 less, he tarnished his renown by the cruel murder of Sir Alex- 
 ander Ramsay of Dalhousie, originally his friend and brother 
 in arms. The king had conferred upon Ramsay the sherifFdom 
 
 of Teviotdale, to which Douglas pretended some claim. lu 
 
 t 
 revenge of this preference, the knight of Liddesdale came 
 
 down upon Ramsay, while he was administering justice at 
 Hawick, seized, and carried him off to his remote and inacces- 
 sible castle of Hermitage, where he threw his unfortunate pri- 
 soner, horse and man, into a dungeon, and left him to perish 
 of hunger. It is said, the miserable captive prolonged his
 
 248 
 
 existence for several days by the corn which fell from a gra- 
 nary above the vault in which he was confined. * So weak was 
 the royal authority, that David, although highly incensed at 
 this atrocious murder, found himself obliged to appoint the 
 knight of Liddesdale successor to his victim, as sheriff of Te- 
 viotdale. But he was soon after slain, while hunting in Et^ 
 trick Forest, by his own godson and chieftain, William Earl of 
 Douglas, in revenge, according to some authors, of Ramsay's 
 murder; although a popular tradition, preserved in a ballad 
 quoted by Godscroft, and some parts of which are still pre- 
 
 * There is something affecting in the manner in which the old 
 Prior of Lochlevin turns from describing the death of the gallant 
 Ramsay, to the general sorrow which it excited : 
 
 To tell you there of the manere, 
 It is hot sorow for til here ; 
 He wes the grettast menyd man 
 That uny cowth have thowcht of than, 
 Of his state, or of mare be fare; 
 All menyt him, bath bettyr and war ; 
 The ryche and pure him menyde bath. 
 For of his dede was mekil skath. 
 
 Some years ago, a person digging for stones, about the old castle 
 of Hermitage, broke into a vault, containing a quantity of chaili 
 some bones, and pieces of iron ; amongst others, the curb of an 
 ancient bridle, which the author has since given to the Earl of Dal- 
 housie, under the impression, that it possibly may be a relique of 
 his brave ancestor. The worthy clergyman of the parish has men- 
 tioned this discovery, in his statistical account of Castletown. 
 N ..- A ' , : >v,-'- r \
 
 served, ascribes the resentment of the Earl to jealousy. The 
 place, where the knight of Liddesdale was killed, is called, 
 from his name, William-cross, upon the ridge of a hill called 
 William-hope, betwixt Tweed and Yarrow. His body, accord- 
 ing to Godscroft, was carried to Lindean church the first 
 night after his death, and thence to Melrose, where he was in- 
 terred with great pomp, and where his tomb is still shewn. 
 
 The moon on the east oriel shone. St. XI. p. 50. 
 It is impossible to conceive a more beautiful specimen of 
 the lightness and elegance of Gothic architecture, when in its 
 purity, than the eastern window of Melrose abbey. Sir James 
 Hall of Dunglas, bart. has, with great ingenuity and plausibi- 
 lity, traced the Gothic order through its various forms, and 
 seemingly eccentric ornaments, to an architectural imitation 
 of wicker-work ; of which, as we learn from some of the le- 
 gends, the earliest Christian churches were constructed. In 
 such an edifice, the original of the clustered pillars is traced 
 to a set of round posts, begirt with slender rods of willow, 
 whose loose summits were brought to meet from all quarters, 
 and bound together artificially, so as to produce the frame- 
 work of the roof: and the tracery of our Gothic windows is 
 displayed in the meeting and interlacing of rods and hoops, 
 affording an inexhaustible variety of beautiful forms of open 
 work. This ingenious system is alluded to in the romance. 
 Sir James Hall's Essay on Gothic architecture is published in 
 The Edinburgh Philosophical Transactions.
 
 2.50 
 
 They sate them down on a marble stone, 
 
 A Scottish monarch slept below. St. XII. p. 51. 
 A large marble stone, in the chancel of Melrose, is pointed 
 out as the monument of Alexander II., one of the greatest of 
 our early kings ; others say, it is the resting place of Waldeve, 
 one of the early abbots, who died in the odour of sanctity. 
 
 The wondrous Michael Scott. St. XIII. p. 51. 
 
 Sir Michael Scott of Balwearie flourished during the 13th 
 century, and was one of the ambassadors sent to bring the 
 Maid of Norway to Scotland upon the death of Alexander III. 
 By a poetical anachronism, he is here placed in a later a.-ra. 
 He was a man of much learning, chiefly acquired in foreign 
 countries. He wrote a commentary upon Aristotle, printed 
 at Venice in 1496 ; and several treatises upon natural philo- 
 s ; ophy, from which he appears to have been addicted to the 
 abstruse studies of judicial astrology, alchymy, physiognomy, 
 and chiromancy. Hence he passed among his contemporaries 
 for a skilful magician. Dempster informs us, that he remem- 
 bers to have heard in his youth, that the magic books of Michael 
 Scott were still in existence, but could not be opened without 
 danger, on account of the fiends who were thereby invoked. 
 Dempsteri Historia Ecclesiastica, 1627, lib. xii. p. 495. Lesly 
 characterises Michael Scott, as " singulars philosophic, astro- 
 nomic, ac medicince laude prestans ; dicebatur penitissimos ma- 
 gt recessus indagasse" Dante also mentions him as a re- 
 nowned wizard :
 
 251 
 
 Quell altro chi ne' fianchi e cosi poco 
 Michele Scoto fu, chi veramente 
 Delle magiche frode soppe il gioco. 
 
 Dixina Comedia, Canto xxmo. 
 
 A personage, thus spoken of by biographers and historians, 
 loses little of his mystical fame in vulgar tradition. Accord- 
 ingly, the memory of Sir Michael Scott survives in many a le- 
 gend ; and in the south of Scotland, any work of great labour 
 and antiquity is ascribed, either to the agency ofAuld Michael, 
 of Sir William Wallace, or of the devil. Tradition varies con- 
 cerning the place of his burial : some contend for Holme Col- 
 trame, in Cumberland ; others for Melrose Abbey. But all 
 agree, that his books of magic were interred in his grave, or 
 preserved in the convent where he died. Satchells, wishing to 
 give some authority for his account of the origin of the name 
 of Scott, pretends, that, in 1629, he chanced to be at Burgh, 
 under Bowness, in Cumberland, where a person, named Lan- 
 celot Scott, shewed him an extract from Michael Scott's works, 
 containing that story : 
 
 " He said the book which he gave me 
 
 Was of Sir Michael Scot's historic ; 
 
 Which historic was never yet read through, 
 
 Nor never will, for no man dare it do. 
 
 Young scholars have pick'd out something 
 
 From the contents, that dare not read within. 
 
 He carried me along the castle then, 
 
 And shew'd his written book hanging on an iron pin. 
 
 His writing pen did seem to me to be 
 
 Of hardened metal, like steel, or accnmie;
 
 252 
 
 .The volume of it did seem so large to me, 
 
 As the book of Martyrs and Turks historic. 
 
 Then in the church he let me see 
 
 A stone where Mr Michael Scot did lie ; 
 
 I asked at him how that could appear, 
 
 Mr Michael had been dead above five hundred year ? 
 
 He shew'd me none durst bury under that stone, 
 
 More than he had been dead a few years agone ; 
 
 For Mr Michael's name does terrific each one." 
 
 History of the Right Honourable Name of SCOT. 
 
 Salamanca's cave. St. XIII. p. 52. 
 Spain, from the reliques 1 , doubtless, of Arabian learning and 
 superstition, was accounted a favourite residence of magicians. 
 Pope Sylvester, who actually imported from Spain the use of 
 the Arabian numerals, was supposed to have learned there 
 the magic, for which he was stigmatized by the ignorance of 
 his age. William of Malmabury, lib. ii. cap. 10. There were 
 public schools, where magic, or rather the sciences supposed 
 to involve its mysteries, were regularly taught, at Toledo, 
 Seville, and Salamanca. In the latter city, they were held in 
 a deep cavern ; the mouth of which was walled up by Queen 
 Isabella, wife of King Ferdinand. TfAutun on learned In- 
 credulity, p, 45. These Spanish schools of magic are cele- 
 brated also by the Italian poets of romance ; 
 
 Questo citta di Tolletto solea 
 Tenere studio di Negromanzia, 
 Quivi di magica arte si leggea 
 Fubblicamente, e di Peromanzia ;
 
 253 
 
 E molti Geomanti sempre avea 
 E sperimenti assai d' Tetremanzia 
 E d' altre false opinion di sciocchi 
 Come e failure, o spesso baiter gli occhi. 
 
 II Morgante Maggiore, Canto XXV. St. 259. 
 
 The celebrated magician Maugis, cousin to Rinaldo of Mon- 
 talban, called, by Ariosto, Malagigi, studied the black art at 
 Toledo, as we learn from L'Histoire de Maugis D'Aygremont. 
 He even held a professor's chair in the necromantic univer- 
 sity; for so I interpret the passage, " qu'en tons les sept ars 
 d'enchantement, des charmes et conjurations il rfy avoit meil- 
 leur maistre que lui ; et en tel renom qrfon le laissoit en 
 chaise, et Vappelloit on maistre Mavgis." This Salamancan 
 Domdaniel is said to have been founded by Hercules. If the 
 classic reader enquires where Hercules himself learned magic, 
 he may consult " Les faicts et proesses du noble et vaillant 
 Hercules? where he will learn, that the fable of his aiding 
 Atlas to support the heavens, arose from the said Atlas having 
 taught Hercules, the noble knight errant, the seven liberal 
 sciences, and, in particular, that of judicial astrology. Such, 
 according to the idea of the middle ages, were the studies, 
 " maximus quee docuit Atlas." In a romantic history of Rode- 
 ric, the last Gothic king of Spain, he is said to have entered 
 one of those enchanted caverns. It was situated beneath an 
 ancient tower near Toledo ; and, when the iron gates, which 
 secured the entrance, were unfolded, there rushed forth so 
 dreadful a whirlwind, that hitherto no one had dared to pene-
 
 254 
 
 trate into its recesses. But Roderic, threatened with an in- 
 vasion of the Moors, resolved to enter the cavern, where he 
 expected to find some prophetic intimation of the event of the 
 war. Accordingly, his train being furnished with torches so 
 artificially composed, that the tempest could not extinguish 
 them, the king, with great difficulty, penetrated into a square 
 hall, inscribed all over with Arabian characters. In the midst 
 stood a colossal statue of brass, representing a Saracen wield- 
 ing a Moorish mace, with which it discharged furious blows on 
 all sides, and seemed thus to excite the tempest which raged 
 around. Being conjured by Roderic, it ceased from striking, 
 until he read, inscribed on the right hand, " Wretched monarch, 
 for thy evil hast thou come hither ;" on the left hand, " Thou 
 shall be dispossessed by a strange people ;" on one shoulder, " I 
 invoke the sons of Hagar ;" on the other, " I do mine office" 
 When the king had decyphered these ominous inscriptions, the 
 'statue returned to its exercise, the tempest commenced anew, 
 and Roderic retired, to mourn over the predicted evils which 
 approached his throne. He caused the gates of the cavern to 
 be locked and barricaded ; but, in the course of the night, the 
 tower fell with a tremendous noise, and under its ruins con- 
 cealed for ever the entrance to the mystic cavern. The con- 
 quest of Spain by the Saracens, and the death of the unfortu- 
 nate Don Roderic, fulfilled the prophecy of the brazen statue. 
 Historia verdadera del Rey Don Rodrigo por el sabio Al- 
 caydc Alulcacim, traduzeda de la lengtia Arabiga por Miguel 
 de Luna, 1654, cap. vi.
 
 255 
 
 T/ie bells would ring in Notre Dame. St. XIII. p. 52. 
 ** Tantamne rem tarn negligenter ?" says Tynvhitt, of his 
 predecessor Speight; wlio, in his commentary on Chaucer, had 
 omitted, as trivial and fabulous, the story of Wade and his 
 boat Guingelot, to the great prejudice of posterity; the me- 
 mory of the hero, and the boat, being now entirely lost. That 
 future antiquaries may lay no such omission to my charge, I 
 have noted one or two of the most current traditions concern- 
 ing Michael Scott. He was chosen, it is said, to go upon an 
 embassy, to obtain from the king of France satisfaction for 
 certain piracies committed by his subjects upon those of Scot- 
 land. Instead of preparing a new equipage and splendid reti- 
 nue, the ambassador retreated to his study, opened his book, 
 and evoked a fiend in the shape of a huge black horse, 
 mounted upon his back, and forced him to fly through the air 
 towards France. As they crossed the sea, the devil insidious- 
 ly asked his rider, What it was that the old women of Scot- 
 land muttered at bed-time ? A less experienced wizard might 
 have answered, that it was the Pater Noster, which would 
 have licensed the devil to precipitate him from his back. 
 But Michael sternly replied, " What is that to thee ? Mount, 
 Diabolus, and fly I* 7 When he arrived at Paris, he tied his 
 horse to the gate of the palace, entered, and boldly delivered 
 his message. An ambassador, with so little of the pomp and 
 circumstance of diplomacy, was not received with much re- 
 spect, and the king was about to return a contemptuous re- 
 fusal to his demand, when Michael besought him to suspend
 
 256 
 
 his resolution till he had seen his horse stamp three times. 
 The first stamp shook every steeple in Paris, and caused all 
 the bells to ring ; the second threw down three of the towers 
 of the palace ; and the infernal steed had lifted his hoof to 
 give the third stamp, when the king rather chose to dismiss 
 Michael, with the most ample concessions, than to stand to 
 the probable consequences. Upon another occasion, the ma- 
 gician, having studied so long in the mountains that he became 
 faint for want of food, sent his servant to procure some from 
 the nearest farm-house. The attendant received a churlish 
 denial from the farmer. Michael commanded him to return 
 to this rustic Naba), and lay before him his cap, or bonnet, 
 repeating these words ; 
 
 Maister Michael Scott's man 
 Sought meat, and gat nane. 
 
 When this was done and said, the enchanted bonnet be- 
 came suddenly inflated, and began to run round the house 
 with great speed, pursued by the farmer, his wife, bis servants, 
 and the reapers, who were on the neighbouring har'st rigg. 
 No one had the power to resist the fascination, or refrain from 
 joining in pursuit of the bonnet, until they were totally ex- 
 hausted with their ludicrous exercise. A similar charm occurs 
 in Huon de Bourdeaux, and in the ingenious Oriental tale, 
 called the Caliph Vathek. 
 
 Michael, like his predecessor Merlin, fell at last a victim to 
 female art: His wife, or concubine, elicited out of him the 
 4
 
 257 
 
 secret, that his art could ward off any danger except the poi- 
 sonous qualities of broth, made of the flesh of a breme sow. 
 Such a mess she accordingly administered to the wizard, who 
 died in consequence of eating it; surviving, however, long 
 enough to put to death his treacherous confidant. 
 
 *!!>.- . v ;. : .iv; 
 
 The words, that cleft Eildon hills in three, 
 And bridled the Tweed with a curb of stone. 
 
 St. XIII. p. 52. 
 
 Michael Scott was, once upon a time, much embarrassed by 
 a spirit, for whom he was under the necessity of finding con- 
 stant employment. He commanded him to build a cauld, or 
 dam-head, across the Tweed at Kelso : it was accomplished in 
 one night, and still does honour to the infernal architect. 
 Michael next ordered, that Eildon hill, which was then a uni- 
 form cone, should be divided into three. Another night was 
 sufficient to part its summit into the three picturesque peaks 
 which it now bears. At length the enchanter conquered this 
 indefatigable daemon, by employing him in the hopeless and 
 endless task of making ropes out of sea-sand. 
 
 That lamp shall burn unquenchably. St. XVII. p. 54. 
 Baptista Porta, and other authors who treat of natural ma- 
 gic, talk much of eternal lamps, pretended to have been found 
 burning in ancient sepulchres. Fortunius Licetus investigates 
 the subject in a treatise, De Lucernis antiquorum reconditis, 
 published at Venice, 1621. One of these perpetual lamps is 
 B
 
 2.58 
 
 said to have been discovered in the tomb of Tulliola, the 
 daughter of Cicero. The wick was supposed to be composed 
 of asbestos. Kircher enumerates three different receipts for 
 constructing such lamps ; and wisely concludes, that the thing 
 is nevertheless impossible. Mundits Subterraneus, p. 72. 
 Delrio imputes the fabrication of such lights to magical skill. 
 Disquisitiones Magicce, p. 58. In n very rare romance, which 
 " treateth of the lyfe of Virgilius, and of his deth, and many 
 raarvayles that he dyd in his lyfe-time, by whyche-crafte and 
 nygramancye, throughe the helpe of the devyls of hell," men- 
 tion is made of a very extraordinary process, in which one of 
 these mystical lamps was employed. It seems, that Virgil, as 
 he advanced in years, became desirous of renovating his youth 
 by his magical art. For this purpose he constructed a solita- 
 ry tower, having only one narrow portal, in which he placed 
 twenty-four copper figures, armed with iron flails, twelve oa 
 each side of the porch. These enchanted statues struck with 
 their flails incessantly, and rendered all entrance impossible, 
 unless when Virgil touched the spring, which stopped their 
 motion. To this tower he repaired privately, attended by one 
 trusty servant, to whom he communicated the secret of the 
 entrance, and hither they conveyed all the magician's treasure. 
 " Then sayde Virgilius, my dere beloved frende, and he that I 
 above alle men truste and knowe mooste of my secret;" and 
 then he led the man into a cellar, where he made afayer lamp 
 at all seasons burnynge. And then sayd Virgilius to the man, 
 " Se you the barrel that standeth here ?** and he sayd, yea :
 
 259 
 
 " Therin must thou put me : fyrste ye must slee me, and hewe 
 me smalle to peces, and cut my bed in iiii peces, and sake the 
 heed under in the bottom, and then the peces there after, and 
 my herte in the myddel, and then set the barrel under the 
 lampe, that nyghte and day the fat therin may droppe dnd 
 leake ; and ye shall, ix dayes long, ones in the day, fyll the 
 lampe, and fayle nat. And when this is all done, then shall I 
 be renued, and made yonge agen." At this extraordinary pro- 
 posal, the confidant was sore abashed, and made some scruple 
 of obeying his master's commands. At length, however, he 
 complied, and Virgil was slain, pickled, and barrelled up, in 
 all respects according to his own direction. The servant then 
 left the tower, taking care to put the copper threshers in mo- 
 tion at his departure. He continued daily to visit the tower 
 with the same precaution. Meanwhile, the emperor, with whom 
 Virgil was a great favourite, missed him from the court, and 
 demanded of his sejrvant where he was. The domestic pre- 
 tended ignorance, till the emperor threatened him with death, 
 when at length he conveyed him to the enchanted tower. The 
 same threat extorted a discovery of the mode of stopping the 
 statues from wielding their flails. " And then the emperour 
 entered into the castle with all his folke, and soughte all aboute 
 in every corner after Virgilius ; and at the last they soughte 
 so longe, that they came into the seller, where they sawe the 
 lampe hang over the barrel!, where Virgilius lay in deed. 
 Then asked the emperour the man, who had made hym so 
 herdy to put his mayster Virgilius so to dethe ; and the man.
 
 260 
 
 i 
 
 answered no worde to the emperour. And then the emperour, 
 with great anger, drewe oute his sworde, and slewe he there 
 Virgiiius* man. And when all this was done, then sawe the 
 emperour, and all his folke, a naked childe iii tymes rennynge 
 about the barell, saynge these wordes, ' cursed be the tyme 
 that ye ever came here !' And with those wordes vanyshed 
 the chylde awaye, and was never sene ageyn ; and thus abyd 
 Virgilius in the barell deed." Virgilius, bl. let. printed at Ant- 
 werpe by John Doesborcke. This curious volume is in the 
 valuable library of Mr Douce ; and is supposed to be a 
 translation from the French, printed in Flanders for the 
 English market. See Goujet Eiblioth. Franc, ix. 225. Cata- 
 logue de la Bibliotheque Nationals, Tom. II. p. 5. De Bure, 
 No. 3857. 
 
 *-YV "It . ft :-: ' ' 
 
 He thought, as he took it, the dead man frowned. 
 
 St. XXI. p. 58. 
 
 William of Deloraine might be strengthened in this belief 
 by the well-known story of the Cid Ruy Diaz. When the body 
 ef that famous Christian champion was sitting in state by the 
 high altar, where it remained for ten years, a certain malicious 
 Jew attempted to pull him by the beard ; but he had no sooner 
 touched the formidable whiskers, than the corpse started up, 
 and half unsheathed his sword. The Israelite fled ; and so per- 
 manent was the effect of his terror, that he became Christian. 
 HEVWOOD'S Hierarchic, p. 480, quoted from Sebastian Cobar 
 ruirias Crozcc.
 
 261 
 
 The Baron's Dwarf his courser held. St. XXXI. p. 64. 
 
 The idea of Lord Cranstoun's Goblin Page is taken from a 
 being called Gilpin Homer, who appeared, and made some 
 stay, at a farm-house among the Border-mountains. A gen- 
 tleman of that country has noted down the following particu- 
 lars concerning his appearance. 
 
 " The only certain, at least most probable, account, that 
 ever I heard of Gilpin Horner, was from an old man of the 
 name of Anderson, who was born, and lived all his life, at 
 Todshawhill, in Eskedale-muir, the place where Gilpin appear- 
 ed and staid for some time. He said there were two men, 
 late in the evening, when it was growing dark, employed in 
 fastening the horses upon the uttermost part of their ground 
 (that is, tying their fore-feet together, to hinder them from 
 travelling far in the night), when they heard a voice, at some 
 distance, crying ' tint ! tint ! tint ? * One of the men, 
 named Moftat, called out, ' What de'il has tint you ? Come 
 here.' Immediately a creature of something like a human 
 form appeared. It was surprisingly little, distorted in features, 
 and mis-shapen in limbs. As soon as the two men could see 
 it plainly, they run home in a great fright, imagining they had 
 met with some goblin. By the way Moflfat fell, and it rua 
 over him, and was home at the house as soon as any of them, 
 and staid there a long time ; but I cannot say how long. It 
 was real flesh and blood, and ate and drank, was fond of cream, 
 and, when it could get at it, would destroy a great deal. It 
 
 * Tint signifies ?o$f.
 
 seemed a mischievous creature ; and any of the children 
 whom it could master, it would beat and scratch without 
 mercy. It was once abusing a child belonging to the same 
 Moflfat, who had been so frightened by its first appearance ; 
 and he, in a passion, struck it so violent a blow upon the side 
 of the head, that it tumbled uppn the ground : but it was not 
 stunned ; for it set up its head directly, and exclaimed, ' Ah 
 hah, Will o' MofFat, you strike sairF (viz. sore). After it had 
 staid there long, one evening, when the women were milking 
 the cows in the loan, it was playing among the children near 
 by them, when suddenly they heard a loud shrill voice cry> 
 three times, ' Gilpin Homer !' It started, and said, ' That is 
 me, I must away ;' and instantly disappeared, and was never 
 heard of more. Old Anderson did not remember it, but said 
 he had often heard his father, and other old men in the place 
 who were there at the time, speak abo.ut it ; and in my younger 
 years I have often heard it mentioned, and never met with 
 any who had the remotest doubt as to the truth of the story ; 
 although, I must own, I cannot help thinking there must be 
 some misrepresentation in it." To this account I have to add 
 the following particulars from the most respectable authority. 
 Besides constantly repeating the word tint ! tint ! Gilpin 
 Homer was often heard to call upon Peter Bertram, or Be-te- 
 ram, as he pronounced the word : . and when the shrill voice 
 called Gilpin Horner, he immediately acknowledged it was the 
 summons of the said Peter Bertram ; who seems therefore to 
 have been the devil who had tint, or lost, the little imp.
 
 But the Ladye of Branksome gathered a band 
 Of the best that would ride at her command. 
 
 St. XXXIII. p. 66. 
 
 " Upon 25th June, 1557, Dame Janet Beatoune Lady Buc- 
 cleuch, and a great number of the name of Scott, delaitit (ac- 
 cused) for coming to the kirk of St Mary of the Lowes, to the 
 number of two hundred persons bodin in feir of weire (array- 
 ed in armour), and breaking open the doors of the said kirk, 
 in order to apprehend the laird of Cranstoune for his destruc- 
 tion." Ou the 20th July, a warrant from the queen is pre- 
 sented, discharging the justice to proceed against the Lady 
 Buccleuch while new calling. Abridgement of Rooks of Ad- 
 journal in Advocates' Library. The following proceedings 
 upon this case appear on the record of the Court of Justi- 
 ciary : Ou the 25th of June, 1557, Robert Scott, in Bowhill 
 parish, priest of the kirk of St Mary's, accused of the convo- 
 cation of the Queen's lieges, to the number of 200 persons, in 
 warlike array, with jacks, helmets, and other weapons, and 
 marching to the chapel of St Mary of the Lowes, for the 
 slaughter of Sir Peter Cranstoun, out of ancient feud and ma- 
 lice prepense, and of breaking the doors of the said kirk, is 
 repledged by the Archbishop of Glasgow. The bail given by 
 Robert Scott of Allanhaugh, Adam Scott of Burnefute, Robert 
 Scott in Hovvfurde, Walter Scott in Todshawhaugh, Walter 
 Scott younger of Synton, Thomas Scott of Hayning, Robert 
 Scott, William Scott, and James Scott, brothers of the said 
 Walter Scott, Walter Scott in the Woll, and Walter Scott, son
 
 264 
 
 ef William Scott of Harden, and James Wemys in Eckford, 
 all accused of the same crime, is declared to be forfeited. Ou 
 the same day, Walter Scott of Synton, and Walter Chisholme 
 of Chisholme, and William Scott of Harden, became bound, 
 jointly and severally, that Sir Peter Cranstoun, and his kin- 
 dred and servants, should receive no injury from them in fu- 
 ture. At the same time, Patrick Murray of Fallohill, Alexan- 
 der Stuart, uncle to the laird of Trakwhare, John Murray of 
 Newhall, John Fairlye, residing in Selkirk, George Tait, 
 younger of Pirn, John Pennycuke of Pennycuke, James Ram- 
 say of Cokpen, the laird of Fassyde, and the laird of Hender- 
 stoune, were all severally fined for not attending as jurors. 
 Upon the 20th of July following, Scott of Synton, Chisholme 
 of Chisholme, Scott of Harden, Scott of Howpaslie, Scott of 
 Burnfute, with many others, are ordered to appear at next 
 calling, under the pains of treason. But no farther procedure 
 seems to have taken place. It is said, that, upon this rising, 
 the kirk of St Mary was burned by the Scotts.
 
 NOTES 
 
 ON 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 When, dancing in the sunny beam, 
 
 He mark'd the crane on the Baron's crest. St. IV. p. 75. 
 The crest of the Cranstouns, in allusion to their name, is a 
 erane dormant, holding a stone in his foot, with an emphatic 
 Border motto, Thou shalt want ere I want. 
 
 Much he marvelled a knight of pride, 
 
 Like a book-bosomed priest should ride. St. VIII. p. 78. 
 
 " At Unthank, two miles N. E. from the church (of Ewes), 
 
 there are the ruins of a chapel for divine service, in time of 
 
 popery. There is a tradition, that friars were wont to come 
 
 from Melrose,' or Jedburgh, to baptise and marry in this pa- 
 
 rish ; and, from being in use to carry the mass-book in their 
 
 bosoms, they were called, by the inhabitants, Book a-bosomes,
 
 266 
 
 There is a man yet alive, who knew old men who had been 
 baptized by these Bonk-a-bosomes, and who says one of them, 
 called Hair, used this parish for a very long time." Account 
 g/ Parish of Ewes, apud Macfarlane's MSS. 
 
 It had much of glamour might. St. IX. p. 79. 
 Glamour, in the legends of Scottish superstition, means the 
 magic power of imposing on the eye-sight of the spectators, so 
 that the appearance of an object shall be totally different from 
 the reality. To such a charm the ballad of Johnny Fa' im- 
 putes the fascination of the lovely Countess, who eloped with 
 that gypsey leader : 
 
 Sae soon as they saw her weel far'd face, 
 They cast the glamour o'er her. 
 
 It was formerly used even in war. In 1381, when the Duke 
 of Anjou lay before a strong castle, upon the, coast of Naples, 
 a necromancer offered to " make the ayre so thycke, that 
 they within shal thynke that there is a great bridge on the see 
 (by which the castle was surrounded), for ten men to go a 
 front ; and whan they within the castell se this bridge, they 
 will be so afrayde, that they shall yelde them to your mercy. 
 The Duke demanded Fay re Master, on this bridge that ye 
 speke of, may our people assuredly go thereou to the castell 
 to assayle it? Syr, quod the enchantour, I dare not assure 
 you that ; for if any that passeth on the bridge make the signe
 
 267 
 
 of the crosse on hym, all shall go to noughte, and they that 
 be on the bridge shall fall into the see. Then the Duke be- 
 gan to laugh ; and a certain of yong knightes, that were there 
 present, said, Syr, for godsake, let the raayster essay his cun- 
 ning; we shal leve making of any signe of the crosse on us 
 for that tyme." The Earl of Savoy, shortly after, entered 
 the tent, and recognized, in the enchanter, the same person 
 who had put the castle into the power of Sir Charles de 
 la Payx, who then held it, by persuading the garrison of 
 the Queen of Naples, through magical deception, that the sea 
 was coming over the walls. The sage avowed the feat, and 
 added, that he was the man in the world most dreaded by Sir 
 Charles de la Payx. " By my fayth, quod the Erl of Savoy, 
 ye say well ; and I will that Syr Charles de la Payx shall 
 know that he hath gret wronge to fear you. But I shall us- 
 sure him of you ; for ye shall never do enchauntment to de- 
 ceyve hym, nor yet none other. I wolde nat that in tyme to 
 come we shulde be reproached that in so hygh an enterprise 
 as we be in, wherein there be so many noble knyghtes and 
 squyers assembled, that we shulde do any thyng be enchaunt- 
 ment, nor that we shulde wyn our enemys by suche crafte. 
 Than he called to hym a servaunt, and sayd, go and get a 
 hangman, and let him stryke of this mayster's heed without de- 
 lay ; and as sone the Erie had commaunded it, incontynent it 
 was done, for his head was stryken of before the Erie's tent/ 
 FROISSAUT, Vol. I. ch. 391, 392.
 
 268 
 
 The art of glamour, or other fascination, was anciently a 
 principal part of the skill of the jongleur, or juggler, whose 
 tricks formed much of the amusement of a Gothic castle. 
 Some instances of this art may be found in the Minstrelsy of 
 the Scottish Border, Vol. III. p. 119. In a strange allegorical 
 poem, called the Houlet, written by a dependant of the house 
 of Douglas, about 1452-3, the jay, in an assembly of birds, 
 plays the part of the juggler. His feats of glamour are thus 
 described : 
 
 He gart them see, as it semyt, in samyn houre, 
 
 Hunting at herdU in holtis so hair ; 
 Soune sailand on the see schippis ot'toure, 
 Ik-mis batalland on burd brim as a bare ; 
 He could carye the coup of the kingis des, 
 Syne leve in the stede, 
 Bot a black bunwede ; 
 He could of a henis hede, 
 Make a man mes. 
 
 He gart the Emproure trow, and trewlye behald, 
 
 That the corncraik, the pundare at hand, 
 Had poyndit all his pris hors in a poynd fald, 
 Because thai etc of the corn in the kirkland. 
 He could wirk windaris, quhat way that he wald ; 
 
 Mak a gray gus a gold garland, 
 A lang spere of a bittile for a berne bald, 
 Nobilis of nutschelles, and silver of sand. 
 Thus joukit with juxters the janglane ja> 
 Fair ladyes iu ringis, 
 Knychtis in caralyngis, 
 Bayth dansis and siugis, 
 It seroyt as sa.
 
 2(59 
 
 Now, if you ask who gave the stroke, 
 
 I cannot tell, so mot I thrive ; 
 
 It was not given by man alive. St. X. p. 80. 
 Some writer upon Dsemonology tells us of a person, who 
 was very desirous to establish a connection with the invisible 
 world; and failing in all his conjurations, began to entertain 
 doubts of the existence of spirits. While this thought was 
 passing through his mind, he received, from an unseen hand, a 
 very violent blow. He had immediately recourse to his magi- 
 cal arts; but was unsuccessful in evoking the spirit, who had 
 made his existence so sensibly felt. A learned priest told him, 
 long after, that the being, who had so chastised his incredulity, 
 would be the first whom he should see after his death. 
 
 The running stream dissolved the spell. 
 
 St. XIII. p. 82. 
 
 It is a firm article of popular faith, that no enchantment 
 can subsist in a living stream. Nay, if you can interpose a 
 brook betwixt you and witches, spectres, or even fiends, you 
 are in perfect safety. Burns's inimitable Tarn o' Shunter 
 turns entirely upon such a circumstance. The belief seems 
 to be of antiquity. Brompton informs us, that certain Irish 
 wizards could, by spells, convert earthen clods, or stones, into 
 fat pigs, which they sold in the market ; but which always 
 reassumed their proper form, when driven by the deceived 
 purchaser across a running stream. But Bromptpn is severe
 
 270 
 
 on the Irish, for a- very good reason. w Gens ista spurcissima 
 non solvunt decimas." Chronicon Johannis Brompton apud 
 decem Scriptores, p. 1076. 
 
 His buckler scarce in breadth a span, 
 
 No longer fence had he ; 
 He never counted him a man, 
 
 Would strike below tlie knee. St. XVII. p. 86. 
 Imitated from Drayton's account of Robin Hood and his 
 followers : 
 
 A hundred valiant men had this brave Robin Hood, 
 
 Still ready at his call, that bowmen were right good ; 
 
 All clad in lincoln green, with caps of red and blue, 
 
 His fellow's winded horn not one of them but knew. 
 
 When setting to their lips their bugles shrill. 
 
 The warbling echoes waked from every dale and hill j 
 
 Their bauldrics set with studs athwart their shoulders cast, 
 
 To which under their arms their sheafs were buckled fast. 
 
 A short sword at their belt, a buckler scarce a span, 
 
 Who struck below the knee not counted then a man, 
 
 All made of Spanish yew, their bows were wondrous strong, 
 
 They not an arrow drew but was a clothyard long ; 
 
 Of archery they had the very perfect craft, 
 
 With broad arrow, or but, or prick, or roving shaft. 
 
 Poly Olbwn, Song 26. 
 
 To wound an antagonist in the thigh, or leg, was reckoned 
 contrary to the law of arms. In a tilt betwixt Gavvain Mi- 
 chael, an English squire, and Joachim Cathore, a Frenchman,
 
 271 
 
 w they met at the sperre poyntes rudely : the French squyer 
 justed right pleasantly ; the Englyshman ran too lowe, for 
 he strak the Frenchman depe into the thygh. Wherwith 
 the Erie of Buckingham was right sore displeased, and so 
 were all the other lordes, and sayde how it was shamefully 
 done." FROISSART, vol. i. chap. 366. Upon a similar occasion, 
 " the two knights came a fote eche agaynst other rudely, with 
 their spearcs lowe couched, to stryke eche other within the 
 foure quarters. Johan of Castel-Morante strake the Englysh 
 squyer on the brest in such wyse, that Sir Wyllyam Fermeton 
 stombled and bowed, for his fote a lyttell fayled him. He helde 
 his speare lowe with bothe his handes, and coude nat amende 
 it, and strake Sir Johan of the Castell-Morante in the thighe, 
 so that the speare went clene throughe, that the heed was 
 sene a handfull on the other syde. And Syre Johan with the 
 stroke reled, but he fell nat. Than the Englyshe knyghtes 
 and squyers were ryghte sore displeased, and sayde how it 
 was a foule stroke. Syr Wyllyam Fermetone excused him- 
 selfe, and sayde how he was sorie of that adventure, and 
 howe that yf he had knovven that it shulde have bene so, he 
 wolde never have begon it ; eayenge howe he coude nat amende 
 it, by cause of glaunsing of his fote by constraynt of the great 
 stroke that Syr Johan of the Castell-Morante had given him." 
 Ibid. ch. 373. 
 
 4
 
 272 
 
 And with a charm she staunched the blood. 
 
 St. XXIII. p. 90. 
 
 See several charms for this purpose in Reginald Scot's Dis- 
 covery of Witchcraft, p. 273. 
 
 Tom Pots was but a serving man, 
 
 But yet he was a doctor good ; 
 
 He bound his handkerchief on the wound, 
 
 And with some kinds of words he staunched the blood. 
 
 Pieces of ancient popular Poetry, Lond. 1791, p. 151. 
 
 But she has ta'en the broken lance, 
 And washed it from the clotted gore, 
 And salved the splinter o'er and o-er. St. XXIII. p. 90. 
 Sir Kenelm Digby, in a discourse upon the cure by sympa- 
 thy, pronounced at Montpelier, before an assembly of nobles 
 and learned men, translated into English by R. White, gentle- 
 man, and published in 1658, gives us the following curious 
 
 
 surgical case : 
 
 " Mr James Howel (well known in France for his public 
 works, and particularly for his Dendrologie, translated into 
 French by Moris. Baudouin) coming by chance, as two of his 
 best friends were fighting in duel, he did his endeavour to part 
 them ; and putting himselfe between them, seized, with his left 
 hand, upon the hilt of the sword of one of the combatants, 
 while, with his right hand, he laid hold of the blade of the 
 other. They, being transported with fury one against the 
 ether, struggled to rid themselves of the hindrance their friend
 
 273 
 
 made, that they should not kill one another ; and one of them 
 roughly drawing the blade of his sword, cuts to the very bone 
 the nerves and muscles of Mr HoweFs hand ; and then the 
 other disengaged his hilts, and gave a crosse blow on his ad- 
 versarie's head, which glanced towards his friend, who heaving 
 up his sore hand to save the blow, he was wounded on the 
 back of his hand as he had been before withiu. It seems 
 some strange constellation reigned then against him, that he 
 should lose so much bloud by parting two such dear friends, 
 who, had they been themselves, would have hazarded both 
 their lives to have preserved his : but this unvoluntary effusion 
 of bloud by them, prevented that which they shulde have 
 drawn one from the other. For they, seeing Mr Howel's face 
 besmeared with bloud, by heaving up his wounded hand, they 
 both run to embrace him ; and, having searched his hurts, 
 they bound up his hand with one of his garters, to close the 
 veins which were cut, and bled abundantly. They brought 
 him home, and sent for a surgeon. But this being heard at 
 court, the king sent one of his own surgeons ; for his majesty 
 much affected the said Mr Howel. 
 
 " It was my chance to be lodged hard by him ; and four or 
 five days after, as I was making myself ready, he came to my 
 house, and prayed me to view his wounds; * for 1 under- 
 stand,' said he, ' that you have extraordinary remedies on 
 such occasions, and my surgeons apprehend some fear that it 
 may grow to a gangrene, and so the hand must be cut off.' 
 In effect, his countenance discovered that he was in much 
 s
 
 274 
 
 pain, which he said was insupportable, in regard of the e- 
 tream inflammation. I told him I would willingly serve him ; 
 but if haply he knew the manner how I would cure him, 
 without touching or seeing him, it may be he would not expose 
 himself to my manner of curing, because he would think it, 
 peradventure, either ineffectual, or superstitious. He replied, 
 ' The wonderfull things which many have related unto me of 
 your way of medicinement, makes me nothing doubt at all of 
 its efficacy; and all that I have to say unto you is compre- 
 hended in the Spanish proverb, Hagase el milagro y hugalo 
 Mahomtt) let the miracle be done, though Mahomet do it.' 
 
 " I asked him then for any thing that had the bloud upon 
 it; so he presently sent for his garter, wherewith his hand 
 was first bound ; and as I called for a bason of water, as if I 
 would wash my hands, I took a handful of powder of vitriol, 
 which I had in my study, and presently dissolved it. As soon 
 as the bloudy garter was brought me, I put it within the ba- 
 son, observing, in the interim, what Mr Howel did, who stood 
 talking with a gentleman in a corner of my chamber, not re- 
 garding at all what I was doing ; but he started suddenly, as if 
 he had found some strange alteration in himself. I asked 
 him what he ailed ? ' I know not what ailes me ; but I finde 
 that I feel no more pain. Methinks that a pleasing kinde of 
 freshnesse, as it were a wet cold napkin, did spread over my 
 hand, which hath taken away the inflammation that torment- 
 ed me before.' I replyed, * Since then that you feel already 
 so good effect of my medicament, I advise you to cast away
 
 275 
 
 all your playsters ; only keep the wound clean, and in a mo- 
 derate temper betwixt heat and cold.' This was presently 
 reported to the Duke of Buckingham, and a little after to the 
 king, who were both very curious to know the circumstance of 
 the businesse, which was, that after dinner I took the garter 
 out of the water, and put it to dry before a great fire. It was 
 scarce dry, but Mr Howel's servant came running, that his 
 master felt as much burning as ever he had done, if not more; 
 for the heat was such as if his hand were twixt coles of fire. 
 I answered, although that had happened at present, yet he 
 should find ease in a short time ; for I knew the reason of this 
 new accident, and would provide accordingly ; for his master 
 should be free from that inflammation, it may be before he 
 could possibly return to him : but in case he found no ease, I 
 wished him to come presently back again; if not, he might 
 forbear coming. Thereupon he went ; and at the instant I 
 did put again the garter into the water, thereupon he found 
 his master without any pain at all. To be brief, there was no 
 sense of pain afterward ; but within five or six dayes the 
 wounds were cicatrized, and entirely healed." p. 6. 
 
 The king (James VI.) obtained from Sir Kenelm the disco- 
 very of his secret, which he pretended had been taught him 
 by a Carmelite friar, who had learned it in Armenia, or Persia. 
 Let not the age of animal magnetism and metallic tractors 
 smile at the sympathetic powder of Sir Kenelm Digby. Re- 
 ginald Scot mentions the same mode of cure in these terms : 
 " And that which is more strange .... they can remedie anie
 
 Q76 
 
 stranger with that verie sword wherewith they are wounded. 
 Yea, and that which is beyond all admiration, if they stroke 
 the sword upward with their fingers, the partie shall t'eele no 
 pain ; whereas, if they draw their fingers downwards, there- 
 upon the partie wounded shall feele intolerable pain." I pre- 
 sume that the success ascribed to the sympathetic mode of 
 treatment might arise from the pains bestowed in washing 
 the wound, and excluding the air, thus bringing on a cure 
 by the first intention. It is introduced by Dryden in the 
 Enchanted Island, a (very unnecessary) alteration of the Tem- 
 pest : 
 
 Ariel. Anoint the sword which pierced him with this 
 Weapon-salve, aud wrap it close from air, 
 Till I have time to visit him again. Act v. sc. 2. 
 
 Again, in scene 4th, Miranda enters with Hippolito's sword 
 wrapt up : 
 
 Hip* O my wound pains me. [Site unwraps tke sword. 
 
 'Mir. I am come to ease you. 
 
 Hip. Alas I feel the cold air come to me ; 
 My wound shoots worse than ever. 
 
 Mir. Does it still grieve you ? 
 
 [She wipes and anoints the sword. 
 
 Hip. Now, methinks, there's something laid just upon it. 
 
 Mir. Do you find no ease ? 
 
 Hip. Yes, yes j upon the sudden all this pain 
 Is leaving me. Sweet heaven, how I am eased !
 
 277 
 
 On Penchryst glows a bale of fire, 
 
 And three are kindling on Priesthaughswire. 
 
 St. XXVII. p. 93. 
 
 The Border beacons, from their number and position, form- 
 ed a sort of telegraphic communication with Edinburgh. The 
 act of parliament 1455, c. 48, directs that one bale or faggot 
 shall be warning of the approach of the English in any man- 
 ner; two bales, that they are coming indeed; four bales, 
 blazing beside each other, that the enemy are in great force. 
 " The same taikenings to be watched and maid at Eggerhope 
 Castell, fra they se the fire of Hume, that they fire right swa. 
 And in like manner on Sowtra Edge, sail se the fire of Egger- 
 hope Castell, and mak taikening in like manner : And then 
 may all Louthiane be warned, and in special the Castell of 
 Edinburgh; and their four fires to be made in like maner, that 
 they in Fife, and fra Striveling east, and the east part of Lou- 
 thiane, and to Dunbar, all may se them, and come to the de- 
 fense of the reahne." These beacons (at least in latter times) 
 were " a long and strong tree set up, with a long iron pole 
 across the head of it, and an iron brander fixed on a stalk in 
 the middle of it, for holding a tar-barrel." STEVENSON'S His- 
 tory, Vol. II. p. 701. 
 
 Our kin, and clan, and friends, to raise. 
 
 St. XXVII. p. 93. 
 
 The speed with which the Borderers collected great bodies 
 of horse, may be judged of from the following extract, when
 
 278 
 
 the subject of the rising was much less important than that 
 supposed in the romance. It is taken from Carey's Memoirs : 
 
 tl Upon the death of the old Lord Scroop, the queen gave 
 the west wardenry to his son, that had married my sister. He, 
 having received that office, came to me with great earnestness, 
 and desired me to be his deputy, offering me that I should live 
 with him in his house ; that he would allow me half a dozen 
 men, and as many horses, to be kept at his charge ; and his 
 fee being 1000 marks yearly, he would part it with me, and I 
 should have the half. This his noble offer I accepted of, and 
 went with him to Carlisle ; where I was no sooner come, but I 
 entered into my office. We had a stirring time of it ; and few 
 dayes past over my head but I was on horseback, either to 
 prevent mischief, or take malefactors, and to bring the Border 
 in better quiet than it had been in times past. One memora- 
 ble thing, of God's mercy shewed unto me, was such as I have 
 good cause still to remember i{:. 
 
 " I had private intelligence given me, that there were two 
 Scottish men, that had killed a churchman in Scotland, and 
 were by one of the Grames relieved. This Grame dwelt 
 within five miles of Carlisle. He had a pretty house, and close 
 by it a strong tower, for his own defence in time of need. 
 About two o'clock in the morning, I took horse in Carlisle, and 
 not above twenty-five in my company, thinking to surprise the 
 house on a sudden. Before I could surround the house, the 
 two Scots were gotten in the strong tower, and I could see a 
 boy riding from the house as fast as his horse could carry him ;
 
 279 
 
 I little suspecting what it meant. But Thomas Carleton came 
 to me presently, and told me, that if I did not presently pre- 
 vent it, both myself and all my company would be either slain, 
 or taken prisoners. It was strange to me to hear this lan- 
 guage. He then said to me, ' Do you see that boy that rideth 
 away so fast ? He will be in Scotland within this half hour ; 
 and he is gone to let them know, that you are here, and to 
 what end you are come, and the small number you have with 
 you ; and that if they will make haste, on a sudden they may 
 surprise us, and do with us what they please/ Hereupon we 
 took advice what was best to be done. We sent notice pre- 
 sently to all parts to raise the country, and to come to us with 
 all the speed they could ; and withal we sent to Carlisle to 
 raise the townsmen ; for without foot we could do no good 
 against the tower. There we staid some hours, expecting 
 more company ; and within short time after the country came 
 in on all sides, so that we were quickly between three and four 
 hundred horse ; and, after some longer stay, the foot of Car- 
 lisle came to us, to the number of three or four hundred men ; 
 whom we presently set to work, to get up to the top of the 
 tower, and to uncover the roof; and then some twenty of them 
 to fall down together, and by that means to win the tower. 
 The Scots, seeing their present danger, offered to parley, and 
 yielded themselves to my mercy. They had no sooner opened 
 the iron gate, and yielded themselves my prisoners, but we 
 might see 400 horse within a quarter of a mile coming to their 
 rescue, and to surprise me and my small company ; but of a
 
 280 
 
 sudden they stayed, and stood at gaze. Then had I more to 
 do than ever; for all our Borderers came crying, with full 
 mouths, ' Sir, give us leave to set upon them ; for these are 
 they that have killed our fathers, our brothers, and uncles, and 
 our cousins ; and they are coming, thinking to surprise you, 
 upon weak grass nags, such as they could get on a sudden ; 
 and God hath put them into your hands, that we may take re- 
 venge of them for much blood that they have spilt of ours.' I 
 desired they would be patient a while, and bethought myself, 
 if I should give them their will, there would be few or none of 
 the Scots that would escape unkilled (there were so many 
 deadly feuds among them) ; and therefore I resolved with my- 
 self to give them a fair answer, but not to give them their de- 
 sire. So I told them, that if I were not there myself, they 
 might then do what pleased themselves ; but being present, if 
 I should give them leave, the blood that should be spilt that 
 day would lie very hard upon my conscience. And therefore 
 I desired them, for my sake, to forbear ; and, if the Scots did 
 not presently make away with all the speed they could, upon 
 my sending to them, they should then have their wills to do 
 \vhat they pleased. They were ill satisfied with my answer, 
 but durst not disobey. I sent with speed to the Scots, and 
 bade them pack away with all the speed they could ; for if 
 they stayed the messenger's return, they should few of them re- 
 turn to their own home. They made no stay; but they were 
 turned homewards before the messenger had made an end of 
 his message. Thus, by God's mercy, I escaped a great dan-
 
 281 
 
 ger ; and, by my means, there were a great many men's lives 
 saved that day." 
 
 On many a cairn's gray pyramid, 
 Where urns of mighty chiefs lie hid. 
 
 St. XXIX. p. 95. 
 
 The cairns, or piles of loose stone, which crown the summit 
 of most of our Scottish hills, and are found in other remark- 
 able situations, seem usually, though not universally, to have 
 been sepulchral monuments. Six flat stones are commonly 
 found in the centre, forming a cavity of greater or smaller di- 
 mensions, in which an urn is often placed. The author is pos- 
 sessed of one, discovered beneath an immense cairn at Rough- 
 lee, in Liddesdale. It is of the most barbarous construction; 
 the middle of the substance alone having been subjected to the 
 fire, over which, when hardened, the artist had laid an inner 
 and outer coat of unbaked clay, etched with some very rude 
 ornaments ; his skill apparently being inadequate to baking the 
 vase, when completely finished. The contents were bones and 
 ashes, and a quantity of beads made of coal. This seems to 
 have been a barbarous imitation of the Roman fashion of se- 
 pulture.
 
 NOTES 
 
 ON 
 
 CANTO IV. 
 
 Great Dundee. St. II. p. 102. 
 The Viscount of Dundee, slain in the battle of Killycrankie. 
 
 For pathless marsh, and mountain cell, 
 
 The peasant left his lowly shed. St, III. p. 103. 
 The morasses were the usual refuge of the Border herds- 
 men, on the approach of an English army. (Minstrelsy of the 
 Scottish Border, Vol.'I. p. 49.) Caves, hewed in the most dan- 
 gerous and inaccessible places, also afforded an occasional 
 retreat. Such caverns may be seen in the precipitous banks 
 of the Teviot at Sunlaws and Ancram, upon the Jed at Hun- 
 dalee, and in many other places upon the Border. The banks
 
 284 
 
 of the Eske, at Gorton and Hawthornden, are hollowed into 
 similar recesses. But even these dreary dens were not always 
 secure places of concealment. " In the way as we came, not 
 far from this place (Long Niddry), George Ferres, a gentle- 
 man of my Lord Protector's happened upon a cave in 
 
 the grounde, the mouth whereof was so worne with the fresh 
 printe of steps, that he seemed to be certayne thear wear sum 
 folke within ; and gone domic to trie, he was redily recey ved 
 with a hakebut or two. He left them not yet, till he had 
 knowen wheyther thei wold be content to yeld and come out, 
 which they fondly refusing, he went to my lorde's grace, and 
 upon utterance of the thynge, gat lisence to deale with them 
 BS he coulde ; and so returned to them, with a skore or two of 
 pioners. Three ventes had their cave, that we wear ware of, 
 wherof he first stopt up on ; anoother he fil'd ful of strawe, and 
 set it a fyer, whereat they within cast water apace ; but it was 
 so wel maynteyned without, that the fyer prevayled, and thei 
 within fayn to get them belyke into anoother parler. Then 
 devised we (for I hapt to be with hym) to stop the same up, 
 whereby we should eyther smoother them or fynd out their 
 ventes, if thei hadde any moe : as this was done at another 
 issue, about xii score of, we moughte see the fume of their 
 smoke to come out; the which continued with so great a 
 force, and so long a while, that we could not but thinke they 
 must needs get them out, or smoother within : and forasmuch 
 as we found not that they dyd the tone, we thought it for 
 certain thei wear sure of the toother." PATTEN'S Account of
 
 285 
 
 Somerset's Expedition into Scotland, apud DALYELL'S Frag- 
 ments. 
 
 Southern ravage. St. III. p. 103. 
 
 From the following fragment of a letter from the Earl of 
 Northumberland to King Henry VIII, preserved among the 
 Cotton MSS. Calig. B. vii. 179, the reader may estimate the 
 nature of the dreadful war which was occasionally waged upon 
 the Borders, sharpened by mutual cruelties, and the personal 
 hatred of the wardens, or leaders. 
 
 Some Scottish barons, says the earl, had threatened to come 
 within " thre miles of my pore house of Werkworth, where I 
 lye, and gif me light to put on my clothes at mydnyght ; and 
 alsoo the said Marke Carr said there opynly, that seyng they 
 had a governor on the marches of Scotland, as well as they 
 hairl in Ingland, he shulde kepe yonr highnes instructions, gyf- 
 fyn unto your garyson, for making of any day-forrey; for he 
 and his friends wolde burne enough on the nyght, lettyng your 
 counsaill here defyne a notable acte at theyre. pleasures. Up- 
 on whiche, in your highnes' name, I comaundet dewe watche 
 to be kepte on your marchies, for comyug in of any Scotts. 
 Neutheless, upon Thursday at night last, came thyrty light 
 horsemen into a litil village of myne, called Whitell, having 
 not past sex houses, lying toward Ryddisdaill, upon Shilbotell 
 more, and ther wold have fyred the said howses, but ther was 
 noo fyre to get there, and they forgate to brynge any withe 
 theyme ; and toke a wyf, being great with chylde, in the said
 
 286 
 
 towne, and said to hyr, Wher we can not gyve the lard lyght, 
 yet we shall doo this in spyte of hym ; and gyve hyr iii mor- 
 tall wounds upon the heid, and another in the right side, with 
 a dagger : wheruppori the said wyf is deede, and the childe in 
 her bely is loste. Beseeching your most gracious highncs to 
 reduce unto your gracious memory this wylful and shamefull 
 murder, done within this your highnes' realme, notwithstand- 
 ing all the inhabitants thereabout rose unto the said fray, and 
 gave warnynge by becons unto the countrey afore theyme, and 
 yet the Scottsmen dyde escape. And uppon certeyne know- 
 ledge to my brother Clyfforthe and me, had by credable per- 
 sons of Scotland, this abomynable act not only to be done by 
 dyverse of the Mershe, but also the afore named persons of 
 Tyvidaill, and consented to, as by appearance, by the Erie of 
 Murey, upon Friday at night last, let slyp C of the best horse- 
 men of Glendaill, with a part of your highnes' subjects of Ber- 
 wyke, together with George Dowglas, whoo came into Ingland 
 agayne, in the dawning of the day ; but afore theyre retorne, 
 they dyd mar the Earl of Murrei's provisions at Coldingham : 
 for they did not only burne the said town of Coldingham, with 
 all the corne thereunto belonging, which is esteemed wurthe 
 cii marke sterling ; but alsoo burned twa townes nye adjoin- 
 ing thereunto, called Branerdergest and the Black Hill, and 
 toke xxiiii persons, Ix horse, with cc hed of cataill, which 
 nowe, as I am informed, hathe not only been a staye of the 
 said Erie of Murrei'b not coming to the bordure as yet, but al- 
 soo, that none inlande man will adventure theyre selfs uppon
 
 287 
 
 the marches. And as for the tax that shulde have been graun- 
 tyd for finding of the said iii hundred men, is utterly denyed. 
 Upon which the King of Scotland departed from Edynburgh to 
 Stirling, and as yet ther doth remayn. And alsoo I, by the ad- 
 vice of my brother Clyfforth, have devysed that within this iii 
 nyghts, Godde willing, Kelsey, in lyke case, shall be brent, with 
 all the corne in the said town ; and then they shall have noo 
 place to lye any garyson in, nygh unto the borders. And as I 
 shall atteigne further knawledge, I shall not faill to satisfye 
 your highness, according to my most bounden dutie. And for 
 this burnyng of Kelsey is devysed to be done secretly, by Tyn- 
 daill and Ryddisdale, And thus the holy Try nite and*** 
 your most royal estate, with long lyf, and as much increase of 
 honour as your most noble heart can desire. At Werkworth, 
 the jaiid day of October." (1522.) 
 
 Watt Tinlinn.St. IV. p. 103. 
 
 This person was, in my younger days, the theme of many a 
 fireside tale. He was a retainer of the Buccleuch family, and 
 held for his Border service a small tower on the frontiers of 
 Liddesdale. Watt was, by profession, a sutor, but, by inclina- 
 tion and practice, an archer and warrior. Upon one occasion, 
 the captain of Bewcastle, military governor of that wild dis- 
 trict of Cumberland, is said to have made an incursion into 
 Scotland, in which he was defeated, and forced to fly. Watt 
 Tinlinn pursued him closely through a dangerous morass : the
 
 288 
 
 captain, however, gained the firm ground : and seeing Tinlinn 
 dismounted, and floundering in the bog, used these words of 
 insult; " Sutor Watt, ye cannot sew your boots; the heels risp, 
 and the seams rive."* " If I cannot sew," retorted Tinlinn, 
 discharging a shaft, which nailed the captain's thigh to his sad- 
 dle, " If I cannot sew, I can yerk."^. 
 
 Bilhope Stag.St.V. p. 104. 
 
 There is an old rhyme, which thus celebrates the places in 
 Liddesdale, remarkable for game : 
 
 Bilbope braes for bucks and raes, 
 And Carit haugh for swine, 
 
 And Tarras for the good bull-trout, 
 If lie be ta'cn in time. 
 
 The bucks and roes, as well as the old swine, are now ex- 
 tinct ; but the good bull-trout is still famous. 
 
 Of silver broach and bracelet proud. St. V. p. 104. 
 As the Borderers were indifferent about the furniture of 
 their habitations, so much exposed to be burned and plunder- 
 ed, they were proportionally anxious to display splendour in 
 decorating and ornamenting their females. See LESLY de Mo- 
 ribus Limitaneorum. 
 
 * Risp, creak.> Rive, tear. 
 
 t Yerk, to twitch, as shoemakers do, in securing the stitches of 
 their work.
 
 289 
 
 Belted Will Howard. St. VI. p. 105. 
 
 Lord William Howard, third son of Thomas, duke of Nor- 
 folk, succeeded to Naworth Castle, and a large domain annex- 
 ed to it, in right of his wife Elizabeth, sister of George Lord 
 Dacre, who died without heirs male, in the llth of Queen 
 Elizabeth; By a poetical anachronism, he is introduced into 
 the romance a few years earlier than he actually flourished. 
 He was warden of the Western Marches; and, from the riooar 
 
 * ' O 
 
 with which he repressed the Border excesses, the name of 
 Belted Will Howard is still famous in our traditions. In the 
 castle of Naworth, his apartments, containing a bed-room, ora- 
 tory, ind library, are still shewn. They impress us with an 
 unpleasing idea of the life of a lord warden of the marches. 
 Three or four strong doors, separating these rooms from the 
 rest of the castle, indicate apprehensions of treachery from 
 his garrison ; and the secret winding passages, through which 
 he could privately descend into the guard-room, or even into 
 the dungeons, imply the necessity of no small degree of secret 
 superintendence on the part of the governor. As the ancient 
 books and furniture have remained undisturbed, the venera- 
 ble appearance of these apartments, and the armour scattered 
 around the chamber, almost lead us to expect the arrival of the 
 warden in person. Naworth Castle is situated near Brampton, 
 in Cumberland. Lord William Howard is ancestor of the 
 Earls of Carlisle.
 
 290 
 
 Lord Dacre.St. VI. p. 105. 
 
 The well-known name of Dacre is derived from the exploits 
 of one of their ancestors at the siege of Acre, or Ptolemais, un- 
 der Richard Cceur de Lion. There were two powerful branches 
 of that name. The first family, called Lord Dacres of the 
 South, held the castle of the same name, and are ancestors to 
 the present Lord Dacre. The other family, descended from 
 the same stock, were called Lord Dacres of the North, and 
 were barons of Gilsland and Graystock. A chieftain of the 
 latter branch was warden of the West Marches during the 
 reign of Edward VI. He was a man of a hot and obstinate 
 character, as appears from some particulars of Lord Surrey's 
 letter to Henry VIII., giving an account of his behaviour at the 
 siege and storm of Jedburgh. It is printed in the Minstrelsy 
 of the Scottish Border, Appendix to the Introduction. 
 
 The German hagbut-men. St. VI. p. 105. 
 In the wars with Scotland, Henry VIII. and his successors 
 employed numerous bands of mercenary troops. At the bat- 
 tle of Pinky there were in the English army six hundred hack- 
 butters on foot, and two hundred on horseback, composed 
 chiefly of foreigners. On the 27th September, 1549, the Duke 
 of Somerset, Lord Protector, writes to the Lord Dacre, war- 
 den of the West Marches : " The Almains, in number two 
 thousand, very valiant soldiers, shall be sent to you shortly 
 from Newcastle, together with Sir Thomas Holcroft, and with 
 the force of your wardenry (which we would were advanced
 
 291 
 
 to the most strength of horsemen that might be), shall make 
 the attempt to Loughmaben, being of no such strength but that 
 it may be skailed with ladders, whereof, beforehand, we would 
 you caused secretly some number to be provided ; or else un- 
 dermined with the pyke-axe, and so taken : either to be kept 
 for the king's majesty, or otherwise to be defaced, and taken 
 from the profits of the enemy. And in like manner the house 
 of Carlaverock to be used." Repeated mention occurs of the 
 Almains, in the subsequent correspondence ; and the enter- 
 prise seems finally to have been abandoned, from the difficulty 
 of providing these strangers with the necessary " victuals and 
 carriages in so poor a country as Dumfries-shire." History of 
 Cumberland, Vol. I. Introd. p. Ixi. From the battle-pieces of 
 the ancient Flemish painters, we learn that the Low-Country 
 and German soldiers marched to an assault with their right 
 knees bared. And we may also observe, in such pictures, the 
 extravagance to which they carried the fashion of ornamenting 
 their dress with knots of ribband. This custom of the Ger- 
 mans is alluded to in the Mirrourfor Magistrates, p. 121. 
 
 Their plcited garment^ therewith well accord, 
 All jagcle and frounst, with rlivers colours deckt. 
 
 His ready lances Thirlestane brave 
 
 Arrayed beneath a banner bright. St. VIII. p. 107. 
 Sir John Scott of Thirlstaine flourished in the reign of 
 James V., and possessed the estates of Thirlestaine, Games- 
 cleuch, &c. lying upon the river of Ettricke, and extending to
 
 St Mary's Loch, at the head of Yarrow. It appears, that when 
 James had assembled his nobility, and their feudal followers, 
 at Fala, with the purpose of invading England, and was, as is 
 well known, disappointed by the obstinate refusal of his peers, 
 this baron alone declared himself ready to follow the king 
 wherever he should lead. In memory of his fidelity, James 
 granted to his family a charter of arms, entitling them to bear 
 a border of fleurs-de-luce, similar to the treasure in the royal 
 arms, with a bundle of spears for the crest; motto, Heady, aye 
 ready. The charter itself is printed by Nisbet; but his work 
 being scarce, I insert the following accurate transcript from 
 the original, in the possession of the Right Honourable Lord 
 Napier, the representative of John of Thirlestaine. 
 
 " JAMES REX. 
 
 " We James, be the grace of God King of Scottis, consider- 
 and the ffhith and gnid servis of of of* right traist friend John 
 Scott of Thirlestane, quha cummand to our hoste at Soutra 
 Edge, with three score and ten launcieres on horsback of his 
 friends and followers, and beand willing to gang with ws into 
 England, when all our nobles and others refuised, he was read- 
 dy to stake all at our bidding; ffor the quhilk cause, it is our 
 will, and we doe straitlie command and charg our lion hcrauld, 
 and his deputies for the time beand, to give and to graunt to 
 the said John Scott, ane Border of ffleure de lises about his 
 
 * Sic. in orig.
 
 293 
 
 coatte of arrives, sik as is on our royal banner, and alsua ane 
 bundell of launces above his helmet, with thir words, Readdy, 
 ay Readdy, that he and all his aftercumrners may bruik the 
 samine, as a pledge and taiken of our guid will and kyndnes 
 for his true worthines ; and thir our letters seen, ye nae wayes 
 failzie to doe. Given at Ffalla Muire, under our hand and 
 privy cashet, the xxvii day of July, me and xxxii zeires. By the 
 King's graces speciall ordinance. 
 
 u Jo. ARSKINE. 
 
 On the back of the charter, is written, 
 Edin. 14. January, 1713. Registred, conform to the act of 
 parliament made anent probative writs, per M'Kaile, pror. and 
 produced by Alexander Borthwick, servant to Sir William 
 Scott of Thirlestane. M. L. J ," 
 
 An aged knight, to danger steeled, 
 
 With many a moss-trooper, came on ; 
 And azure in a golden field, 
 The stars and crescent graced his shield, 
 
 Without the bend of Murdieston. St. IX. p. 108. 
 The family of Harden are descended froin a younger son ef 
 the laird of Buccleuch, who flourished before the estate of 
 Murdieston was acquired by the marriage of one of those 
 chieftains with the heiress, in 1296. Hence they bear the cog- 
 nizance of the Scotts upon the held; whereas those of the 
 Buccleuch are disposed upon a bend dexter, assumed in con-
 
 sequence of that marriage. See GLADSTAINE of Whitelawe's 
 MSS. and SCOTT of Stokoe's. Pedigree, Newcastle, 1783. 
 
 Walter Scott of Harden, who flourished during the reign of 
 Queen Mary, was a renowned Border free-booter, concerning 
 whom tradition has preserved a variety of anecdotes, some of 
 which have been published in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish 
 Border, and others in LEYDEN'S Scenes of Infancy. The bugle 
 horn, said to have been used by this formidable leader, is pre- 
 served by his descendant, the present Mr Scott of Harden. 
 His castle was situate upon the very brink of a dark and pre- 
 cipitous dell, through which a scanty rivulet steals to meet the 
 Borthwick. In the recess of this glen he is said to have kept 
 his spoil, which served for the daily maintenance of his re- 
 tainers, until the production of a pair of clean spurs, in a co- 
 vered dish, announced to the hungry band, that they must ride 
 for a supply of provisions. He was married to Mary Scott, 
 daughter of Philip Scott of Dryhope, and called in song the 
 Flower of Yarrow. He possessed a very extensive estate, 
 which was divided among his five sons. There are numerous 
 descendants of this old marauding Baron. The following 
 beautiful passage of LEYDEN'S Scenes of Infancy, is founded 
 on a tradition respecting an infant captive, whom Walter of 
 Harden carried off in a predatory incursion, and who is said to 
 have become the author of some of our most beautiful pastoral 
 songs.
 
 Where Bortha hoarse, that loads the meads with sand, 
 Roils her red tide to Teviot's western strand, 
 Through slaty hills, whose sides are shagged with thorn, 
 Where springs, in scattered tufts, the dark-green corn, 
 Towers wood-girt Harden, far above the vale, 
 And clouds of ravens o'er the turrets sail. 
 A hardy race, who never shrunk from war, 
 The Scott, to rival realms a mighty bar, 
 Here fixed his mountain-home ; a wide domain, 
 And rich the soil, had purple heath been grain ; 
 But, what the niggard ground of wealth denied, 
 From fields more blessed his fearless arm supplied. 
 
 The waning harvest-moon shone cold and bright ; 
 The warder's horn was heard at dead of night ; 
 And, as the massy portals wide were flung, 
 With stamping hoofs the rocky pavement rung. 
 What fair, half-veiled, leans from her latticed hall, 
 Where red the wavering gleams of torch-light fall ? 
 'Tis Yarrow's fairest Flower, who, through the gloom, 
 Looks, wistful, for her lover's dancing plume. 
 Amid the piles of spoil, that strewed the ground, 
 Her ear, all anxious, caught a wailing sound ; 
 With trembling haste the youthful matron flew, 
 And from the hurried heaps an infant drew. 
 
 Scared at the light, his little hands he flung 
 Around her neck, and to her bosom clung ; 
 While beauteous Mary soothed, in accents mild, 
 His fluttering soul, and clasped her foster child. 
 Of milder mood the gentle captive grew, 
 Nor loved the scenes that scared his infant view ; 
 In vales remote, from camps and castles far, 
 He shunned the fearful shuddering joy of war} 
 Content the loves of simple swains to sing, 
 Or wake to fame the harp's heroic string.
 
 296 
 
 His are the strains, whose wandering echoes thrill 
 The shepherd, lingering on the twilight hill, 
 When evening brings the merry folding hours, 
 And sun-eyed daisies close their winking flowers. 
 He lived, o'er Yarrow's Flower to shed the tear, 
 To strew the holly leaves o'er Harden's bier; 
 But none was found above the minstrel's tomb, 
 Emblem of peace, to bid the daisy bloom : 
 He, nameless as the race from which he sprung. 
 Saved other names, and left his own unsuue. 
 
 Scott$ ofEskdale, a stalwart band. St. X. p. 109. 
 In this, and the following stanzas, some account is given of 
 the mode in which the property of the valley of Esk v. as trans- 
 ferred from the Beattisons, its ancient possessors, to the name 
 of Scott. It is needless to repeat the circumstances, which 
 are given in the poem, literally as they have been preserved 
 by tradition. Lord Maxwell, in the latter part of the six- 
 teenth century, took upon himself the title of Earl of Morton. 
 The descendants of Beattison of Woodkerricke, who aided the 
 earl to escape from his disobedient vassals, continued to hold 
 these lands within the memory of man, and were the only 
 Beattisons who had property in the dale. The old people give 
 locality to the story, by showing the Galliard's haugh, the 
 place where Buccleugh's men were left, &c. 
 
 Their gathering word teas Bellenden. St. XIII. p. 114. 
 Bellenden is situated near the head of Borthwick water, and, 
 being in the centre of the possession of the Scotts, was frc-
 
 297 
 
 quently used as their place of rendezvous and gathering word.- 
 Survey of Selkirkshire, in Macfarlane's MSS., Advocates' 
 Library. Hence Satchells calls one part of his genealogical 
 account of the families of that clan, his Bellenden. 
 
 
 The camp their home, their law the szcord, 
 
 They knew no country, owned no lord. St. XVIII. p. 119. 
 
 The mercenary adventurers, whom, in 1380, the Earl of 
 Cambridge carried to the assistance of the King of Portugal 
 against the Spaniards, mutinied for want of regular pay. At an 
 assembly of their leaders, Sir John Solder, a natural son of Ed- 
 ward the Black Prince, thus addressed them : " I counsayle, 
 let us be alle of one alliance, and of one accorde, and let us 
 among ourselves reyse up the baner of St George, and let us be 
 frendes to God, and enemyes to alle the worlde; for without 
 we make ourselfe to be feared, we gette nothynge." 
 
 " By my fayth," quod Sir William Helmon, " ye saye right 
 well, and so let us do." They all agreed with one voyce, 
 and so regarded among them who shulde be their capitayne. 
 Then they advysed in the case how they coude nat have a bet- 
 ter capitayne than Sir John Soltier. For they sulde than have 
 good leyser to do yvell, and they thought he was more mete- 
 Iyer therto than any other. Than they raised up the penon of 
 St George, and cried, " A Soltier ! a Soltier ! the valyaunt 
 bastarde ! frendes to God, and enemies to all the worlde !" 
 FROISSAHT, Vol. I. ch. 393.
 
 A gauntlet on a spear. St. XXI. p. 122. 
 A glove upon a lance was the emblem of faith among the 
 ancient Borderers, who were wont, when any one broke his 
 word, to expose this emblem, and proclaim him a faithless vil- 
 lain at the first Border meeting. This ceremony was much 
 dreaded. See LESLY. 
 
 We claim from thee William of Deloraine, 
 
 That he may suffer march-treason pain. 
 
 St. XXIV. p. 124. 
 
 Several species of offences, peculiar to the Border, constitu- 
 ted what was called march-treason. Among others, was the 
 crime of riding, or causing to ride, against the opposite coun- 
 try during the time of truce. Thus, in an indenture made at 
 the water of Eske, beside Salom, the 25th day of March, 1334, 
 betwixt noble Lords and mighty, Sirs Henry Percy, Earl of 
 Northumberland, and Archbald of Douglas, Lord of Galoway, 
 a truce is agreed upon until the 1st day of July ; and it is ex- 
 pressly accorded, " Gif ony stellis authir on the ta part, or on 
 the tothyr, that he shall be henget or heofdit ; and gif ony 
 cumpany stellis any gudes wthin the trieux beforesayd, ane of 
 that company sail be henget or heofdit, and the remanent sail 
 restore the gudys stollen in the dubble." History of West- 
 moreland and Cumberland, Introd. p. xxxix.
 
 299 
 
 William of Deloraine 
 
 Will cleanse him, by oath, of march-treason stain. 
 
 St. XXVI. p. 126. 
 
 In dubious cases, the innocence of Border-criminals was oc- 
 casionally referred to their own oath. The form of excusing 
 bills, or indictments, by Border-oath, ran thus : " You shall 
 swear by heaven above you, hell beneath you, by your part of 
 Paradise, by all that God made in six days and seven nights, 
 and by God himself, you are whart out sackless of aft, part, 
 way,, witting, ridd, kenning, having, or recetting of any of the 
 goods and cattels named in this bill. So help you God." 
 History of Cumberland, Introd. p. xxv. 
 
 Knighthood he took of Douglai sword. St. XXVI. p. 126. 
 . The dignity of knighthood, according to the original institu- 
 tion, had this peculiarity, that it did not flow from the mo- 
 narch, but could be conferred by one who himself possessed 
 it, upon any squire who, after due probation, was found to me- 
 rit the honour of chivalry. Latterly, this power was confined 
 to generals, who were wont to create knights bannerets after 
 or before an engagement. Even so late as the reign of Queen 
 Elizabeth, Essex highly offended his jealous sovereign by the 
 indiscriminate exertion of this privilege. Amongst others, he 
 knighted the witty Sir John Harrington, whose favour at court 
 was by no means enhanced by his new honours. See the Nu- 
 g& Antiqutz, edited by Mr Park. But probably the latest in- 
 stance of knighthood, conferred by a subject, was in the case 
 4
 
 300 
 
 of Thomas Ker, knighted by the Earl of Huntley, after the 
 defeat of the Earl of Argyle in the battle of Belrinnes. The 
 fact is attested, both by a poetical and prose account of the 
 engagement, contained in MS. in the Advocates' Library, 
 and lately edited by Mr Dalyell, in Godly Sangs and Ballets, 
 Edin. 1802. 
 
 When English blood swelled Ancram ford. 
 
 St. XXVI. p. 126. 
 
 The battle of Ancram Moor, or Peniel-heuch, was fought 
 A. D. 1545. The English, commanded by Sir Ralph Evers, 
 and Sir Brian Latoun, were totally routed, and both their lead- 
 ers slain in the action. The Scottish army was commanded 
 by Archibald Douglas, Earl of Angus, assisted by the laird of 
 Buccleuch and Norman Lesly. 
 
 The blanche lion. St. XXX. p. 130. 
 
 This was the cognisance of the noble house of Howard in all 
 its branches. The crest, or bearing, of a warrior, was often 
 used as a nomme de guerre. Thus Richard III. acquired his 
 well-known epithet, the JBoar of York. In the violent satire 
 on Cardinal Wolsey, commonly, but erroneously, imputed to 
 Dr'Bull, the Duke of Buckingham is called the Beautiful Swan, 
 and the Duke of Norfolk, or Earl of Surrey, the White Lion. 
 As the book is extremely rare, and the whole passage relates 
 to the emblematical interpretation of heraldry, it shall be here 
 given at length.
 
 301 
 
 The Description of the Armea< 
 
 Of the proud Cardinall this is the shelde, 
 Borne up betwene two augels of Sathan ; 
 The sixe blouddy axes in a bare felde, 
 Sheweth the cruelte of the red man, 
 Which hath devoured the Beautifull Swan, 
 Mortall enemy unto the Whyte Lion, 
 Carter of Yorke, the vyle butcher's sonne. 
 
 The six bulles heddes in a felde blacke, 
 Betokeneth his stordy furiousnes, 
 Wherfore, the godly lyght to put abacke, 
 He bryngeth in his dyvlish darcnes ; 
 The bandog in the middes doth expresse 
 The mastif curre bred in Ypswich towne, 
 Gnawynge with his teth a kinges crowne. 
 
 The cloubbe signifieth playne his tiranny, 
 Covered over with a Cardinal's hatt, 
 "Wherein shall be fulfilled the prophecy, 
 Aryse up Jacke, and put on thy salatt, 
 For the tyme is come of bagge and walatt. 
 The temporal! chevalry thus throwen doune, 
 Wherfor prest take hede, and beware thy crowne. 
 
 There are two copies of this very scarce satire in the library 
 of the late John, Duke of Roxburghe. 
 
 Let Musgrave meet fierce Deloraine 
 
 In single fight. St. XXX. p. 130. 
 
 It may easily be supposed, that trial by single combat, so pe-
 
 SOS 
 
 culiar to the feudal system, was common on the Borders. The 
 following indenture will shew at how late a period it was there 
 resorted to, as a proof of guilt or innocence. 
 
 " It is agreed between Thomas Musgrave and Lancelot 
 Carleton, for the true trial of such controversies as are be- 
 twixt them, to have it openly tried, by way of combat, before 
 God and the face of the world, to try it in Canonby-holme, be- 
 fore England and Scotland, upon Thursday in Easter-week, be- 
 ing the eight day of April next ensuing, A. D. 1602, betwixt 
 nine of the clock, and one of the same day, to fight on foot, to 
 be armed with jack, steel cap, plaite sleeves, plaite breeches, 
 plaite sockes, two baslaerd swords, the blades to be one yard 
 and half a quarter of length, two Scotch daggers, or dorks, at 
 their girdles, and either of them to provide armour and wea- 
 pons for themselves, according to this indenture. Two gen- 
 tlemen to be appointed, on the field, to view both the parties, 
 to see that they both be equal in arms and weapons, accord- 
 ing to this indenture ; and being so viewed by the gentlemen, 
 the gentlemen to ride to the rest of the company, and to leave 
 them but two boys, viewed by the gentlemen, to be under 16 
 years of age, to hold their horses. In testimony of this our 
 agreement, we have both set our hands to this indenture, of 
 intent all matters shall be made so plain, as there shall be no 
 question to stick upon that day. Which indenture, as a wit- 
 ness, shall be delivered to two gentlemen. And for that it is 
 convenient the world should be privy to every particular of the
 
 303 
 
 grounds of the quarrel, we have agreed to set it down in this in- 
 denture betwixt us, that, knowing the quarrel, their eyes may be 
 witness of the trial. 
 
 The Grounds of the Quarrel. 
 
 " 1. Lancelot Carleton did charge Thomas Musgrave before 
 the lords of her majesty's privy council, that Lancelot Carleton 
 was told by a gentleman, one of her majesty's sworn servants, 
 that Thomas Musgrave had offered to deliver her majesty's 
 castle of Bewcastle to the king of Scots ; and to witness the 
 same, Lancelot Carleton had a letter under the gentleman's own 
 hand for his discharge. 
 
 " 2. He chargeth him, that whereas her majesty doth yearly 
 bestow a great fee upon him, as captain of Bewcastle, to aid 
 and defend her majesty's subjects therein ; Thomas Musgrave 
 hath neglected his duty, for that her majesty's castle of Bew- 
 castle was by him made a den of thieves, and an harbour and 
 receipt for murderers, felons, and all sorts of misdemeanors. 
 The precedent was Quinten Whitehead and Runion Black- 
 burne. 
 
 " 3. He chargeth him, that his office of Bewcastle is open for 
 the Scotch to ride in and through, and small resistance made by 
 him to the contrary. 
 
 " Thomas Musgrave doth deny all this charge ; and saith, that 
 he will prove that Lancelot Carleton doth falsely bely him, and 
 will prove the same by way of combat, according to this inden-
 
 304 
 
 lure. Lancelot Carleton hath entertained the challenge ; and 
 so, by God's permission, will prove it true as before, and hath 
 set his hand to the same. 
 
 (Signed) THOMAS MUSGRAVE. 
 
 LANCELOT CARLETON." 
 
 He, the jovial harper. St. XXXIV. p. 134. 
 The person, here alluded to, is one of our ancient Border 
 minstrels, called Rattling Roaring Willie. This soubriquet was 
 probably derived from his bullying disposition; being, it would 
 seem, such a roaring boy, as is frequently mentioned in old 
 plays. While drinking at Newmill, upon Teviot, about five 
 miles above Hawick, Willie chanced to quarrel with one of his 
 own profession, who was usually distinguished by the odd name 
 of Sweet Milk, from a place on Rule water so called. They 
 retired to a meadow, on the opposite side of the Teviot, to de- 
 cide the contest with their swords, and Sweet Milk was killed 
 on the spot. A thorn-tree marks the scene of the murder, 
 which is still called Sweet Milk Thorn. Willie was taken and 
 executed at Jedburgh, bequeathing his name to the beautiful 
 Scotch air, called " Rattling Roaring Willie." Ramsay, who 
 set no value on traditionary lore, published a few verses of this 
 song in the Tea Table Miscellany, carefully suppressing all 
 which had any connection with the history of the author, and 
 origin of the piece. In this case, however, honest Allan is in 
 some degree justified, by the extreme worthlessness of the poe-
 
 305 
 
 try. A verse or two may be taken, as illustrative of the his- 
 tory of Roaring Willie, alluded to in the text. 
 
 Now Willie's gane to Jeddart, 
 
 .And he's for the rude-day ; * 
 But Stobs and young Falnash, -f- 
 
 They followed him a* the way j 
 They followed him a' the way., 
 
 They sought him up and down, 
 In the links of Ousenam water, 
 
 They fand him sleeping sound. 
 
 Stobs lighted aff his horse, 
 
 And never a word he spak, 
 Till he tied Willie's hands 
 
 Fu' fast behind his back ; 
 Fu' fast behind his back, 
 
 And down beneath his knee, 
 And drink will be dear to Willie, 
 
 When sweet milk gars him die. 
 
 Ah wae light on ye, Stobs ! 
 
 An ill death mot ye die ! 
 Ye're the first and foremost man 
 
 That e'er laid hands on me ; 
 That e'er laid hands on me, 
 
 And took my mare me frae ; 
 Wae to you, Sir Gilbert Elliot! 
 
 Ye are my mortal fae ! 
 
 * The day of the Rood-fair at Jedburgh. 
 
 t Sir Gilbert Elliot of Stobs, and Scott of Falnash. 
 
 % A wretched pun on his antagonist's name.
 
 306 
 
 The lasses of Ousenam water 
 
 Are rugging and riving their hair,, 
 And a' for the sake of Willie, 
 
 His beauty was so fair : 
 His beauty was so fair, 
 
 And comely for to see, 
 And drink will be dear to Willie, 
 
 When sweet milk gars him die. 
 
 Black Lord Archibald's battle lazes, 
 
 In the old Douglas" day. St. XXXIV. p. 134. 
 
 The title to the most ancient collection of Border regula- 
 tions runs thus : 
 
 " Be it remembered, that, on the 18th day of December, 
 1468, Earl William Douglas assembled the whole lords, free- 
 holders, and eldest Borderers, that best knowledge had, at the 
 college of Linclouden ; and there he caused those lords and 
 Borderers bodily to be sworn, the Holy Gospel touched, that 
 they justly and truly, after their cunning, should decrete, de- 
 cern, deliver, and put in order and writing, the statutes, ordi- 
 nances, and uses of marche, that were ordained in Black Ar- 
 chibald of Douglas's days, and Archibald his son's days, in 
 time of warfare ; and they came again to him advisedly with 
 these statutes and ordinances, which were in time of warfare 
 before. The said Earl William, seeing the statutes in writing 
 decreed and delivered by the said lords and Borderers, thought 
 them right speedful and profitable to the Borders ; the which 
 statutes, ordinances, and points of warfare, he took, and the 
 whole lords and Borderers he caused bodily to be sworn, that
 
 307 
 
 they should maintain and supply him at their goodly power, to 
 do the law upon those that should break the statutes under- 
 written. Also the said Earl William, and lords, and eldest 
 Borderers, made certain points to be treason in time of war- 
 fare to be used, which were no treason before his time, but to 
 be treason in his time, and in all time coming."
 
 ON 
 
 CANTO V. 
 
 The Bloody Heart blazed in the van, 
 
 Announcing Douglas, dreaded name ! St. IV. p. 144. 
 The chief of this potent race of heroes, about the date of 
 the poem, was Archibald Douglas, seventh Earl of Angus, a 
 man of great courage and activity. The Bloody Heart was the 
 well-known cognisance of the house of Douglas, assumed from 
 the time of Good Lord James, to whose care Robert Bruce 
 committed his heart, to be carried to the Holy Land. 
 
 The Seven Spears of Wedderburne.St. IV. p. 144. 
 
 Sir David Home of Wedderburn, who was slain in the fatal 
 battle of Flodden, left seven sons by his wife, Isabel, daughter 
 of Hoppf ingle of Galashiels (now Pringle of Whitebank). They 
 were called the Seven Spears of Wedderburne.
 
 And Swinton laid the lance in rest, 
 That tamed of yore the sparkling crest 
 
 Of Clarence's Plantagenet. St. IV. p. 144. 
 At the battle of Bouge in France, Thomas, Duke of Cla- 
 rence, brother to Henry V., was unhorsed by Sir John Swinton 
 of Swinton, who distinguished him by a coronet set with pre- 
 cious stones, which he wore around his helmet. The family 
 of Swinton is one of the most ancient in Scotland, and pro- 
 duced many celebrated warriors. 
 
 Beneath the crest of old Dunbar, 
 
 And Hepburn's mingled banners, come, 
 Down the steep mountain glittering far, 
 And shouting still, " a Home ! a Home /" 
 
 St. IV. p. 145. 
 
 The Earls of Home, as descendants of the Dunbars, ancient 
 Earls of March, carried a lion rampant, argent ; but, as a dif- 
 ference, changed the colour of the shield from gules to vert, in 
 allusion to Greenlaw, their ancient possession. The slogan, 
 or war-cry, of this powerful family was, " a Home ! a Home !" 
 It was anciently placed in an escrol above the crest. The hel- 
 met is armed with a lion's head erased gules, with a cap of 
 state gules, turned up ermine. 
 
 The Hepburns, a powerful family in East Lothian, were usu- 
 ally in close alliance with the Homes. The chief of this clan 
 was Hepburn, Lord of Hailes ; a family which terminated in 
 the too famous Earl of Bothwell.
 
 311 
 
 Pursued the foot-ball play. St. VI. p. 147. 
 The foot-ball was anciently a very favourite sport all through 
 Scotland, but especially upon the Borders. Sir John Carmichael 
 of Carmichael, warden of the middle marches, was killed in 
 1600 by a band of the Armstrongs, returning from a foot-ball 
 match. Sir Robert Carey, in his Memoirs, mentions a great 
 meeting, appointed by the Scottish riders, to be held at Kelso, 
 for the purpose of playing at foot-ball, but which terminated in 
 an incursion upon England. At present, the foot-ball is often 
 played by the inhabitants of adjacent parishes, or of the oppo- 
 site banks of a stream. The victory is contested with the ut- 
 most fury, and very serious accidents have sometimes taken 
 place in the struggle. 
 
 'Twixt truce and war, such sudden change 
 Was not unfrequent, nor held strange, 
 
 In the old Border day. St. VII. p. 148. 
 Notwithstanding the constant wars upon the Borders, and 
 the occasional cruelties which marked the mutual inroads, the 
 inhabitants on either side do not appear to have regarded each 
 other with that violent and personal animosity, which might 
 have been expected. On the contrary, like the outposts of hos- 
 tile armies, they often carried on something resembling friendly 
 intercourse, even in the middle of hostilities ; and it is evident, 
 from various ordinances against trade and intermarriages be- 
 tween English and Scottish Borderers, that the governments of 
 both countries were jealous of their cherishing too intimate a
 
 312 
 
 connection. Froissart says of both nations, that " Englyshe- 
 men on the one party, and Scottes on the other party, are good 
 men of warre ; for when they meet, there is a harde fight with- 
 out sparynge. There is no hoo (truce) between them as longe 
 as spears, swords, axes, or daggers, will endure, but lay on eche 
 upon uther ; and whan they be well beaten, and that the one 
 party hath obtained the victory, they than gloryfye so in theyre 
 dedes of armes, and are so joyful), that such as be taken they 
 shall be ransomed, or that they go out of the felde ; so that 
 shortly eche of them is so content with other, that at their de- 
 partynge, curtyslye they will say, God thank you." BERNERS' 
 Froissart, Vol. II. p. 153. The Border meetings of truce, which, 
 although places of merchandise and merriment, often witnessed 
 the most bloody scenes, may serve to illustrate the description 
 in the text. They are vividly pourtrayed in the old ballad of 
 the Reidsquair. Bo:h parties came armed to a meeting of the 
 wardens, yet they intermixed fearlessly and peaceably with each 
 other in mutual sports and familiar intercourse, until a casual 
 fray arose : 
 
 Then was there nought but bow and spear, 
 And every man pulled out a brand. 
 
 In the 29th stanza of this Canto, there is an attempt to ex- 
 press some of the mixed feelings, with which the Borderers on 
 each side were led to regard their neighbours.
 
 313 
 
 And frequent, on the darkening plain, 
 
 Loud hollo, whoop, or whistle ran; 
 As bands, their stragglers to regain, 
 Gave the shrill watch-word of their clan. 
 
 St. VIII. p. 149. 
 
 Patten remarks, with bitter censure, the disorderly conduct 
 of the English Borderers, who attended the Protector Somer- 
 set on his expedition against Scotland. " As we wear then a 
 selling, and the tents a setting up, among all things els com- 
 mendable in our hole journey, one thing seemed to me an in- 
 tollerable disorder and abuse: that whearas allweys, both in 
 all tounes of war, and in all campes of armies, quietnes and 
 stilnes, without nois, is, principally in the night, after the watch 
 is set, observed (I nede not reason why), our northern prik- 
 kers, the Borderers, notwithstandyng, with great enormitie (as 
 thought me), and not unlike (to be playn) unto a masteries 
 hounde howlyng in a hie wey when he hath lost him he wait- 
 ed upon, sum hoopynge, sum whistlying, and most with crying, 
 \ Berwyke, a Berwyke ! A Fenwyke, a Fenwyke ! A Bulmer, 
 a Bulmer ! or so otherwise as theyr captains names wear, ne- 
 ver lin'de these troublous and dangerous noyses all the nighte 
 longe. They said they did it to h'nde their captain and fellows; 
 but if the souldiers of our oother countreys and sheres had 
 used the same maner, in that case we shoold have oft tymes 
 had the state of our camp more like the outrage of a dissolute 
 huntyng, than the quiet of a well ordred armye. It is a feat 
 of war, in mine opinion, that might right well be left. I could
 
 314 
 
 reherse causes (but yf I take it, they are better unspoken than 
 uttred, unless the faut wear sure to be amended) that might 
 shew thei move alweis more peral to our armie, but in their 
 one night's so doynge, than thei shew good service (as sum sey) 
 in a lioole vyage." Apud DALYELL'S Fragments, p. 75. 
 
 Cheer the dark blood-hound on his way, 
 
 And with the bugle rouse the fray. 
 
 St. XXIX. p. 169. 
 
 The pursuit of Border marauders was followed by the inju- 
 red party and his friends with blood-hounds and bugle-horn, 
 and was called the hot-trod. He was entitled, if his dog could 
 trace the scent, to follow the invaders into the opposite king- 
 dom ; a privilege which often occasioned blood-shed. In ad- 
 dition to what lias been said of the blood-hound, I may add, 
 that the breed was kept up by the Buccleuch family on their 
 Border estates till within the 18th century. A person was 
 alive in the memory of man, who remembered a blood-hound 
 being kept at Eldinhope, in Ettricke Forest, for whose main- 
 tenance the tenant had an allowance of meal. At that time 
 the sheep were always watched at night. Upon one occasion, 
 when the duty had fallen on the narrator, then a lad, he be- 
 came exhausted with fatigue, and fell asleep, upon a bank, near 
 sun-rising. Suddenly he was awakened by the tread of horses, 
 and saw five men, well mounted and armed, ride briskly over 
 the edge of the hill. They stopped and looked at the flock ; 
 but the day was too far broken to admit the chance of their
 
 315 
 
 carrying any of them off. One of them, in spite, leaped from 
 his horse, and, coming to the shepherd, seized him by the belt 
 he wore round his waist ; and, setting his foot upon his body, 
 pulled it till it broke, and carried it away with him. They 
 rode off at the gallop ; and, the shepherd giving the alarm, the 
 blood-hound was turned loose, and the people in the neigh- 
 bourhood alarmed. The marauders, however, escaped, not- 
 withstanding a sharp pursuit. This circumstance serves to 
 show how very long the license of the Borderers continued in 
 some degree to manifest itself.
 
 NOTES 
 
 ON 
 
 CANTO VI. 
 
 She wrought not by forbidden spell. St V. 179. 
 Popular belief, though contrary to the doctrines of the 
 church, made a favourable distinction betwixt magicians, and 
 necromancers, or wizards ; the former were supposed to com- 
 mand the evil spirits, and the latter to serve, or at least to be 
 in league and compact with, those enemies of mankind. The 
 arts of subjecting the daemons were manifold ; sometimes the 
 fiends were actually swindled by the magicians, as in the case 
 of the bargain betwixt one of their number and the poet Vir- 
 gil. The classical reader will doubtless be curious to peruse 
 this anecdote.
 
 " Virgilius was at scole at Tolenton, where he stodyed dy- 
 lygently, for he was of great understandynge. Upon a tyme, 
 the scolers had lycense to go to play and sporte them in the 
 fyldes, after the usance of the holde tyme. And there was 
 also Virgilius therbye, also walkynge among the hylles alle 
 about. It fortuned he spyed a great hole in the syde of a 
 great hyll, wherein he went so depe, that he culd not see HO 
 more lyght ; and than he went a lytell farther therin, and 
 than he saw some lyght agayne, and than he went fourth 
 streyghte, and within a lytyll wyle after he harde a voyce that 
 called, " Virgilius ! Virgilius \" and looked aboute, and he 
 colde nat see no body. Than sayd he (i. e. the voice), " Virgi- 
 lius, see ye not the lyttyll bourde lyinge bysyde you there 
 markd with that word ?" Than answered Virgilius, " I see that 
 borde well anough." The voyce said, " Doo awaye that 
 borde, and lette me out there atte." Than answered Virgi- 
 lius to the voyce that was under the lytell borde, and sayd, 
 " Who art thou that callest me so ?" Than answered the de- 
 vyll, " I am a devyll conjured out of the body of a certeyne 
 man, and banysshed here tyll the day of judgemend, without 
 that I be delyvered by the handes of men. Thus, Virgilius, I 
 pray the, delyvere me out of this payn, and I shall shewe unto 
 the many bokes of negromancye, and how thou shall come by 
 it lyghtly, and know the practise therein, that no man in the 
 scyence of negromancye shall passe the. And moreover, I 
 shall shewe and enforme the so, that thou shall have alle thy 
 desyre, whereby mythinke it is a great gyfte for so lytyll a do*
 
 319 
 
 ynge. For ye may also thus all your power frendys helpe, and 
 
 make ryche your enemyes." Thorough that great promyse 
 
 was Virgilius tempted ; he badde the fynd show the bokes to 
 him, that he might have and occupy them at his wyll, and so 
 the fynde shewed hym. And than Virgilius pulled open a 
 bourde, and there was a lytell hole, and therat wrang the de- 
 vyll out lyke a yeel, and cam and stode before Virgilius lyke a 
 bygge man ; wherof Virgilius was astonied and marveyled great- 
 ly thereof, that so great a man myght come out at so lytell a 
 hole. Than sayd Virgilius, " Shulde ye well passe into the 
 hole that ye cam out of r" " Yea, I shall well," sayd the devyl. 
 " I holde the best plegge that I have, that ye shall not do it." 
 " Well," sayd the devyll, " thereto I consent." And than the 
 devyll wrange hitnselfe into the lytell hole ageyne ; and as he, 
 was therein, Virgilius kyverd the hole ageyne with the bourde 
 close, and so was the devyll begyled, and myght nat there 
 come out agen, but abydeth shytte styll therein. Than called 
 the devyll dredefully to Virgilius, and said, " What have ye 
 done, Virgilius ?" Virgilius answered, " Abyde there styll to 
 your day appoynted ;" and fro thens forth abydeth he there. 
 And so Virgilius became very connynge in the practyse of the 
 black scyence." 
 
 This story may remind the reader of the Arabian tale of the 
 Fisherman and the imprisoned Genie ; and it is more than 
 probable, that many of the marvels narrated in the life of Vir- 
 gil are of oriental extraction. Among such I am disposed to 
 reckon the following whimsical account of the foundation of
 
 320 
 
 Naples, containing a curious theory concerning the origin of 
 the earthquakes with which it is afflicted. Virgil, who was a 
 person of gallantry, had, it seems, carried off the daughter of 
 a certain Soldan, and was anxious to secure his prize. 
 
 " Than he thought in his mynde howe he myghte niareye 
 hyr, and thought in his mynde to founde in the middes of the 
 see a fayer towne, with great landes belongynge to it; and so 
 he dyd by his cunnynge, and called it Napells. And the fan- 
 dacyon of it was of egges, and in that towne of Napells he 
 made a tower with iiii corners, and in the toppe he set an ap- 
 pell upon an yron yarde, and no man culde pull awayo that 
 apell without he brake it ; and thoroughe that yren set he a 
 bolte, and in that bolte set he a egge. And he heuge the apell 
 by the stauke upon a cheyne, and so hangeth it stylL And 
 when the egge styrreth, so shulde the towne of Napells quake; 
 and whan the egge brake, than shulde the towne sinke. Whan 
 he had made an ende, he lette call it Napells." This appears 
 to have been an article of current belief during the middle 
 ages, as appears from the statutes of the order DM Saint Esprit \ 
 au droit desir, instituted in 1352. A chapter of the knights is 
 appointed to be held annually at the Castle of the Enchant- 
 ed Egg, near the grotto of Virgil. MONTFAUCON, Vol. II. 
 p. 329. ;,* 
 
 A merlin sat upon her wrist. St. V. p. 179. 
 A merlin, or sparr6w-hawk, was usually carried by ladies of 
 rank, as a falcon was, in time of peace, the constant attendant
 
 321 
 
 af a knight, or baron. See LATHAM on Falconry. Godscroft 
 relates, that, when Mary of Lorraine was regent, she pressed 
 the Earl of Angus to admit a royal garrison into his castle of 
 Tantallon. To this he returned no direct answer ; but, as if 
 apostrophising a goss-hawk, which sat on his wrist, and which 
 he was feeding during the Queen's speech, he exclaimed, 
 " The devil's in this greedy glade, she will never be full." 
 HUME'S History of the House of Douglas, 1743, Vol.11, p. 131. 
 Barclay complains of the common and indecent practice of 
 bringing hawks and hounds into churches. 
 
 And princely peacock's gilded train. St. VI. p. 180. 
 The peacock, it is well known, was considered, during the 
 times of chivalry, not merely as an exquisite delicacy, but as a 
 dish of peculiar solemnity. After being roasted, it was again 
 decorated with its plumage, and a spunge, dipt in lighted spi- 
 rits of wine, was placed in its bill. When it was introduced 
 on days of grand festival, it was the signal for the adventurous 
 knights to take upon them vows to do some deed of chivalry, 
 " before the peacock and the ladies." 
 
 
 And o'er the boar-head, garnished brave. St. VI. p. 180. 
 
 The boar's head was also an usual dish of feudal splendour. 
 In Scotland it was sometimes surrounded with little banners, 
 displaying the colours and achievements of the baron, at whose 
 board it was served. PINKERTON'S History, Vol. I. p. 432.
 
 322 
 
 And cygnet from St Mary's wave. St. VI. p. 180. 
 There are often flights of wild swans upon St Mary's Lake, 
 at the head of the river Yarrow. 
 
 Smote, wilk his gauntlet, stout Hunthill. St. VII. p. 182. 
 The Rutherfords of Hunthill were an ancient race of Bor- 
 der lairds, whose names occur in history, sometimes as defen- 
 ding the frontier against the English, sometimes as disturbing 
 the peace of the country. Dickon Draw-the-sword was son 
 to the ancient warrior, called in tradition the Cock of Hunt- 
 hill. 
 
 But bit his glove, and shook his head. St. VII. p. 182. 
 To bite the thumb, or the glove, seems not to have been con- 
 sidered, upon the Border, as a gesture of contempt, though so 
 used by Shakespeare, but as a. pledge of mortal revenge. It is 
 yet remembered, that a young gentleman of Teviotdale, on the 
 morning after a hard drinking-bout, observed, that he had bit- 
 ten his glove. He instantly demanded of his companion, with 
 whom he had quarrelled ? and learning that he had had words 
 with one of the party, insisted on instant satisfaction, asserting, 
 that though he remembered nothing of the dispute, yet he ne- 
 ver would have bit his glove unless he had received some un- 
 pardonable insult. He fell in the duel, which was fought near 
 Selkirk, in 1721.
 
 323 
 
 " Arthur Fire-t he- Braes. S. VIII. p. 183. 
 
 The person, bearing this redoubtable nomme de guerre, was 
 an Elliot, and resided at Thorleshope, in Liddesdale. He oc- 
 curs in the list of Border riders, in 1597. 
 
 > * ' * 
 
 Since old Buckleuch the name did gain, 
 When in the clench the buck was ta'en. St. VIIL p. 184. 
 A tradition, preserved by Scott of Satchells, who published, 
 in 1688, A true History of the Right Honourable Name of 
 Scott, gives the following romantic origin of that name. Two 
 brethren, natives of Galloway, having been banished from 
 that country for a riot, or insurrection, came to Rankel- 
 burn, in Ettricke Forest, where the keeper, whose name was 
 Brydone, received them joyfully, on account of their skill in 
 winding the horn, and in the other mysteries of the chace. 
 Kenneth Mac-Alpin, then king of Scotland, came soon after 
 to hunt in the royal forest, and pursued a buck from Ettricke- 
 heuch to the glen now called Buckleuch, about two miles 
 above the junction of Rankelburn with the river Ettricke. 
 Here the stag stood at bay ; and the king and his attendants, 
 who followed on horseback, were thrown out by the steepness 
 of the hill and the morass. John, one of the brethren from 
 Galloway, had followed the chace on foot ; and now coming 
 in, seized the buck by the horns, and, being a man of great 
 strength and activity, threw him on his back, and run with his 
 burden about a mile up the steep hill, to a place called Cracra-
 
 324 
 
 Cross, where Kenneth had halted, and laid the buck at the so- 
 vereign's feet.* 
 
 The deer being curee'd in that place, 
 
 At his Majesty's demand, 
 Then John of Galloway ran apace, 
 
 And fetched water to his hand. 
 The King did wash into a dish, 
 
 And Galloway John he wot ; 
 He said, " Thy name now after this 
 
 Shall ever be called John Scott. 
 
 " The forest, and the deer therein, 
 
 We commit to thy band ; 
 For thou shall sure the ranger be, 
 
 If thou obey command : 
 And for the Buck thou stoutly brought 
 . To us up that steep heuch, 
 Thy designation ever shall 
 
 Be John Scott in Bucksleuch." 
 
 * Froissart relates, that a knight of the household of the Compte 
 de Foix exhibited a similar feat of strength. The hall-fire had 
 waxed low, and wood was wanted to mend it. This knight went 
 down to the court-yard, where stood an ass laden with faggots, 
 seized on the animal and his burden, and, carrying him up to the 
 hall on his shoulders, tumbled him into the chimney with his heels 
 uppermost ; a humane pleasantry, much applauded by the Count 
 and all the spectators.
 
 325 
 
 In Scotland no Buckcleuch was then, 
 Before the buck in the cleuch was slain ; 
 Night's-men * at first they did appear, 
 Because moon and stars to their arras they bear. 
 Their crest, supporters, and hunting-horn, 
 Shews their beginning from hunting came ; 
 Their name, and stile, the book doth say, 
 John gained them both into one day. 
 
 WATT'S Bellandcn. 
 
 The Buccleuch arms have been altered, and now allude less 
 pointedly to this hunting, whether real or fabulous. The fami 
 ly now bear Or upon a bend azure, a mullet betwixt two cre- 
 scents of the field ; in addition to which, they formerly bore in 
 the field a hunting horn. The supporters, now two ladies, 
 were formerly a hound and buck, or, according to the old 
 terms, a hart of leash and a hart of greece. The family of 
 Scott of Howpasley and Thirlestaine long retained the bugle- 
 horn : they also carried a bent bow and arrow in the sinister 
 cantle, perhaps as a difference. It is said the motto was, 
 Best riding by moonlight, in allusion to the crescents on the 
 
 * '< Minions of the moon," as Falstaff would have said. The 
 vocation pursued by our ancient Borderers may be justified on the 
 authority of the most polished of the ancient nations : " For the 
 Grecians in old time, and such barbarians as in the continent lived 
 neere unto the sea, or else inhabited the islands, after once they 
 began to crosse over one to another in ships, became theeves, and 
 went abroad under the conduct of their more puissant men, both to 
 enrich themselves, and to fetch in maintenance for the weak : and 
 falling upon towns unfortified, or scatteringly inhabited, rifled 
 them, and made this the best meana of their living j being a mat-
 
 326 
 
 shield, and perhaps to the habits of those who bore it. The 
 motto now given is Amo, applying to the female supporters. 
 
 old Albert Grame, 
 
 The Minstrel of that ancient name. St. X. p. 185. 
 " John Grahame, second son of Malice, Earl of Monteith, 
 commonly surnamcd John with the Bright Sword, upon some 
 displeasure risen against him at court, retired, with many of 
 his clan and kindred, into the English Borders, in the reign of 
 King Henry the Fourth, where they seated themselves ; and 
 many of their posterity have continued there ever since. Mr 
 Sandford, speaking of them, says (which indeed was applicable 
 to most of the Borderers on both sides), " They were all stark 
 moss-troopers, and arrant thieves : Both to England and Scot- 
 land outlawed; yet sometimes connived at, because they gave 
 intelligence forth of Scotland, and would raise 400 horse at any 
 
 ter at that time no where in disgrace, but rather carrying with it 
 something of glory. This is manifest by some that dwell upon the 
 continent, amongst whom, so it be performed nobly, it is still es- 
 teemed as an ornament. The same is also proved by some of the 
 ancient poets, who introduce men questioning of such as sail by, on 
 all coasts alike, whether they be theeves or not ; as a thing ney- 
 ther scorned by such as were asked, nor upbraided by those that 
 were desirous to know. They also robbed one another within the 
 main land : and much of Greece useth that old custome, as the Lo- 
 crians, the Acamanians, and those of the continent in that quarter 
 unto this day. Moreover, the fashion of wearing iron remaineth 
 yet with the people ot that continent, from their old trade of thee- 
 ving." HOBBES' Thucydides, p. 4. Lond. 1629.
 
 327 
 
 time upon a raid of the English into Scotland. A saying is re- 
 corded of a mother to her son (which is now become proverbial) 
 Ride, Rowley, hough's i the pot : that is, the last piece of beef 
 was in the pot, and therefore it was high time for him to go and 
 fetch more." Introduction to the History of Cumberland. 
 
 The residence of the Graemes being chiefly in the Debateable 
 Land, so called because it was claimed by both kingdoms, their 
 depredations extended both to England and Scotland, with im- 
 punity ; for as both wardens accounted them the proper sub- 
 jects of their own prince, neither inclined to demand reparation 
 for their excesses from the opposite officers, which would have 
 been an acknowledgement of his jurisdiction over them.---See a 
 long correspondence on this subject betwixt Lord Dacre and 
 the English Privy Council, in Introduction to History of Cum- 
 berland. The Debateable Land was finally divided betwixt 
 England and Scotland, by commissioners appointed by both 
 nations. 
 
 The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall. St. XI. p. 186. 
 This burden is adopted, with some alteration, from an old 
 Scottish song, beginning thus : 
 
 She leaned her back against a thorn, 
 The sun shines fair on Carlisle wa' ; 
 
 And there she has her young babe born, 
 And the lyon shall be lord of a'.
 
 328 
 
 Who has not heard of Surrey' s fame ? St XIII. p. 188. 
 
 The gallant and unfortunate Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, 
 was unquestionably the most accomplished cavalier of his time ; 
 and his sonnets display beauties which would do honour to a 
 more polished age. He was beheaded on Tower-hill in 1546 ; 
 a victim to the mean jealousy of Henry VIII., who could not 
 bear so brilliant a character near his throne. 
 
 The song of the supposed bard is founded on an incident 
 said to have happened to the Earl in his travels. Cornelius 
 Agrippa, the celebrated alchemist, shewed him, in a looking- 
 glass, the lovely Geraldine, to whose service he had devoted 
 his pen and his sword. The vision represented her as indis- 
 posed, and reclined upon a couch, reading her lover's verses by 
 the light of a waxen taper. 
 
 The storm-swept Or cades; 
 
 Where erst St Clairs held princely sway, 
 O'er isle and islet, strait and bay. St. XXI. p. 193. 
 The St Clairs are of Norman extraction, being descended 
 from William de St Clair, second son of Walderne Compte de 
 St Clair, and Margaret, daughter, to Richard Duke of Nor- 
 mandy. He was called, for his fair deportment, the Seemly 
 St Clair, and settling in Scotland during the reign of Malcolm 
 Ceanmore, obtained large grants of land in Mid-Lothian. 
 These domains were encreased by the liberality of succeeding 
 monarclis to the descendants of the family, and comprehend- 
 ed the baronies of Rosline, Pentland, Cowsland, Cardaine, and
 
 529 
 
 several others. It is said a large addition was obtained from 
 Robert Bruce, on the following occasion. The king, in follow- 
 ing the chace upon Pentland hills, had often started a " white 
 faunch deer," which had always escaped from his hounds; 
 and he asked the nobles, who were assembled around him, 
 whether any of them had dogs, which they thought might be 
 more successful. No courtier would affirm that his hounds 
 were fleeter than those of the king, until Sir William St Clair 
 of Rosline unceremoniously said, he would wager his head that 
 his two favourite dogs, " Help and Hold," would kill the deer 
 before she could cross the March-burn. The king instantly 
 caught at his unwary offer, and betted the forest of Pentland- 
 moor against the life of Sir William St Clair. All the hounds 
 were tied up, except a few ratches, or slow-hounds, to put up 
 the deer; while Sir William St Clair, posting himself in the 
 best situation for slipping his dogs, prayed devoutly to Christ, 
 the blessed Virgin, and St Katherine. The deer was shortly 
 after roused, and the hounds slipped ; Sir William following 
 on a gallant steed, to cheer his dogs. The hind, however, 
 reached the middle of the brook, upon which the hunter 
 threw himself from his horse in despair. At this critical mo- 
 ment, however, Hold stopped her in the brook ; and Help, co- 
 ming up, turned her back, and killed her on Sir William's side. 
 The king descended from the hill, embraced Sir William, and 
 bestowed on him the lands of Kirkton, Logan-house, Earncraig, 
 &c. in free forestrie. Sir William, in acknowledgment of 
 St Katherine's intercession, built the chapel of St Katherine
 
 330 
 
 in the Hopes, the churchyard of which is still to be seen. The 
 hill, from which Robert Bruce beheld this memorable chace, 
 is still called the King's Hill, and the place where Sir William 
 hunted is called the Knight's Field.* MS. History of the Fa- 
 mily of St Clair, by RICHARD AUGUSTIN HAY, Canon of St 
 Genevieve. 
 
 This adventurous huntsman married Elizabeth, daughter of 
 Malice Spar, Earl of Orkney and Stratherne, in whose right 
 their son Henry was, in 1379, created Earl of Orkney, by Ha- 
 co, king of Norway. His title was recognised by the kings of 
 Scotland, and remained with his successors until it was annex- 
 ed to the crown, in 1471, by act of parliament. In exchange 
 for this earldom, the castle and domains of Ravenscraig, or 
 Ravensheuch, were conferred on William Saintclair, 'Earl of 
 Caithness. 
 
 * The tomb of Sir William St Clair, on which he appears sculp- 
 tured in armour, with a greyhound at his feet, is still to be seen iu 
 Jloslin chapel. The person, who shows it, always tells the story of 
 his hunting-match, with some addition to Mr Hay's account ; as 
 that the knight of Rosline's fright made him poetical, and that, in 
 the last emergency, lie shouted, 
 
 Help, haud, an' ye may, 
 
 Or Roslin will lose his head this day. 
 
 If this couplet dees him no great honour as a poet, the conclusion 
 of the story does him still less credit. He set his foot on the dog, 
 says the narrator, and killed him on the spot, saying, he would ne- 
 ver again put his neck in such ,i risque. As Mr Hay does not men- 
 tion this circumstance, I hope it is only founded on the couchant 
 posture of the hound on the monument.
 
 331 
 
 Still nods their palace to its fall, 
 
 Thy pride and sorrow, fair Kirkwall. St. XXI. p. 193. 
 
 The castle of Kirkwall was built by the St Clairs, while earls 
 of Orkney. It was dismantled by the Earl of Caithness about 
 1615, having been garrisoned against the government by Robert 
 Stewart, natural son to the Earl of Orkney. 
 
 Its ruins afforded a sad subject of contemplation to John, 
 Master of St Clair, who, flying from his native country, on ac- 
 count of his share in the insurrection 1715, made some stay at 
 Kirk wall. 
 
 " I had occasion to entertain myself at Kirkwall with the 
 melancholie prospect of the ruins of an old castle, the seat of 
 the old Earls of Orkney, my ancestors ; and of a more melan- 
 choly reflection, of so great and noble an estate as the Orkney 
 and Shetland isles being taken from one of them by James the 
 Third for faultrie, after his brother Alexander, Duke of Alba- 
 ny, had married a daughter of my family, and for protecting 
 and defending the said Alexander against the king, who wished 
 to kill him, as he had done his youngest brother, the Earl of 
 Mar ; and for which, after the forfaultrie, he gratefully divor- 
 ced my forfaulted ancestor's sister; though I cannot persuade 
 myself that he had any misalliance to plead against a familie in 
 whose veins the blood of Robert Bruce run as fresh as in his 
 own ; for their title to the crowne was by a daughter of David 
 Bruce, son to Robert; and our alliance was by marrying a 
 grandchild of the same Robert Bruce, and daughter to the sis-?
 
 332 
 
 ler of the same David, out of the familie of Douglass, which at 
 that time did not much sullie the blood, more than my ances- 
 tour's having not long before had the honour of marrying a 
 daughter of the king of Denmark's, who was named Florentine, 
 and has left in the town of Kirkwall a noble monument of the 
 grandeur of the times, the finest church ever I saw entire in 
 Scotland. I then had no small reason to think, in that unhap- 
 py state, on the many not inconsiderable services rendered since 
 to the royal familie, for these many years by-gone, on all occa- 
 sions, when they stood most in need of friends, which they have 
 thought themselves very often obliged to acknowledge by let- 
 ters yet extant, and in a stile more like friends than souve- 
 raigns ; our attachment to them, without anie other thanks, 
 having brought upon us considerable losses, and, among others, 
 that of our all in Cromwell's time; and left in that condition, 
 without the least relief except what we found in our own vir- 
 tue. My father was the only man of the Scots nation who had 
 courage enough to protest in parliament against King William's 
 title to the throne, which was lost, God knows how: and this 
 at a time when the losses in the cause of the royall familie, and 
 their usual gratitude, had scarce left him bread to maintain a 
 numerous familie of eleven children, who had soon after sprung 
 up on him, in spite of all which, he had honourably persisted 
 in his principle. I say, these things considered, and after being 
 treated as I was, and in that unluckie state, when objects ap- 
 pear to men in their true light, as at the hour of death, could I
 
 333 
 
 be blamed for makeing some bitter reflections to myself, and 
 laughing at the extravagance and unaccountable humour of 
 men, and the singularitie of my own case (an exile for the cause 
 of the Stuart family), when I ought to have known, that the 
 greatest crime I, or my family, could have committed, was per- 
 severing, to my own destruction, in serving the royal family 
 faithfully, though obstinately, after so great a share of depres- 
 sion, and after they had been pleased to doom me and my fa- 
 milie to starve." MS. Memoirs of John, Master qfSt Clair. 
 
 Kings of the main their leaders brave, 
 
 Their barks the dragons of the wave. St. XXIt. p. 194. 
 The chiefs of the Vikingr, or Scandinavian pirates, assumed 
 the title of Sakonungr, or Sea-kings. Ships, in the inflated 
 language of the Scalds, are often termed the serpents of the 
 ocean. 
 
 Of that Sea-Snake, tremendous curled, 
 Whose monstrous circle girds the world. St. XXII. p. 194. 
 The jormungandr, or Snake of the Ocean, whose folds sur- 
 round the earth, is one of the wildest fictions of the Edda. It 
 was very nearly caught by the god Thor, who went to fish for 
 it with a hook baited with a bull's head. In the battle betwixt 
 the evil daemons and the divinities of Odin, which is to pre- 
 cede the Ragnarockr, or Twilight of the Geds, this Snake ft t 
 act a conspicuous part. 

 
 334 
 
 Of those dread Maids, whose hideout yell 
 Maddens the battle's bloody swell. St. XXII. p. 195. 
 These were the Valkyriur, or Selectors of the Slain, dis- 
 patched by Odin from Valhalla, to choose those who were to 
 die, and to distribute the contest. They are well known to the 
 English reader, as Gray's Fatal Sisters. 
 
 Ransacked the graves of warriors old, 
 Their faulchions wrenched from corpses' hold. 
 
 St. XXII. p. 195. 
 
 The northern warriors were usually entombed with their 
 arms, and their other treasures. Thus, Angantyr, before com- 
 mencing the duel in which he was slain, stipulated, that if he 
 fell, his sword Tyrfing should be buried with him. His daugh- 
 ter, Hervor, afterwards took it from his tomb. The dialogue 
 which past betwixt her and Angantyr's spirit on this occasion 
 has been often translated. The whole history may be found in 
 the Hervarar-Saga. Indeed the ghosts of the northern warriors 
 were not wont tamely to suffer their tombs to be plundered ; 
 and hence the mortal heroes had an additional temptation to 
 attempt such adventures ; for they held nothing more worthy 
 of their valour than to encounter supernatural beings. BAR- 
 THOLINUS De causis contempts a Danis mortis, Lib. I. cap. 2, 
 9, 10, 13.
 
 335 
 
 -Rosabelle,St. XXIII. p. 195. 
 
 This was a family name in the house of St Clair, Henry St 
 Clair, the second of the line, married Rosabelle, fourth daugh- 
 ter of the Earl of Stratherne. 
 
 -Castle Ravensheuch. St. XXIII. p. 196. 
 
 A large and strong castle, now ruinous, situated betwixt 
 Kirkaldy and Dysart, on a steep crag, washed by the Firth of 
 Forth. It was conferred on Sir William St Clair, as a slight 
 compensation for the earldom of Orkney, by a charter of 
 King James III. dated in 1471, and is now the property of Sir 
 James St Clair Erskine, (now Earl of Rosslyn,) representative 
 of the family. It was long a principal residence of the Barons 
 of Roslin. 
 
 Seemed all on fire that chapel proud, 
 
 Where Roshn's chiefs uncoffined lie ; 
 Each Baron, for a sable shroud, 
 
 Sheathed in his iron panoply. St. XXI11. p. 197. 
 The beautiful chapel of Roslin is btill in tolerable preserva- 
 tion. It was founded in 1446 by William St Clair, Prince of 
 Orkney, Duke of Oldenbourgh, Earl of Cathness and Strath- 
 erne, Lord Saint Clair, Lord Niddesdale, Lord Admiral of the 
 Scottish seas, Lord Chief-Justice of Scotland, Lord SVarden 
 of the three Marches, Baron of Roslin, Pentland, Pentland- 
 moor, &c., Knight of the Cockle and of the Garter, (as is af- 
 firmed,) High Chancellor, Chamberlain, and Lieutenant of Scot- 
 land. This lofty person, whose titles, says Godscroft, might
 
 336 
 
 weary a Spaniard, built the castle of Roslin, where he resided 
 in princely splendour, and founded the chapel, which is in the 
 most rich and florid stile of Gothic architecture. Among the 
 profuse carving on the pillars and buttresses, the rose is fre- 
 quently introduced, in allusion to the name, with which, how- 
 ever, the flower has no connection ; the etymology being Ross- 
 linnhe, the promontory of the linn, or water-fall. The chapel 
 is said to appear on fire previous to the death of any of his de- 
 scendants. This superstition, noticed by Slezer in his Thea- 
 trum Scotia, and alluded to in the text, is probably of Norwe- 
 gian derivation, and may have been imported by the Earls of 
 Orkney into their Lothian domains. The tomb-fires of the 
 north are mentioned in most of the Sagas. 
 
 The Barons of Roslin were buried in a vault beneath the 
 chapel floor. The manner of their interment is thus described 
 by Father Hay, in the MS. history already quoted. 
 
 " Sir William Sinclair, the father, was a leud man. He 
 kept a miller's daughter, with whom, it is alledged, he went to 
 Ireland ; yet I think the cause of his retreat was rather occa- 
 sioned by the Presbyterians, who vexed him sadly, because of 
 his religion being Roman Catholic. His son, Sir William, died 
 during the troubles, and was interred in the chapel of Roslin 
 the very same day that the battle of Dunbar was fought. 
 When my goodfather was buried, his (i. e. Sir William's) 
 corpse seemed to be entire at the opening of the cave; but 
 when they came to touch his body, it fell into dust. He was 
 laying in his armour, with a red velvet cap on his head, on a 
 flat stone; nothing was spoiled except a piece of the white 
 
 7
 
 337 
 
 furring, that went round the cap, and answered to the hinder 
 part of the head. All his predecessors were buried after the 
 same manner in their armour : late Rosline, my good-father, 
 was the first that was buried in a coffin, against the sentiments 
 of King James the Seventh, who was then in Scotland, and se- 
 veral other persons well versed in antiquity, to whom my mo- 
 ther would not hearken, thinking it beggarly to be buried after 
 that manner. The great expences she was at in burying her 
 husband, occasioned the sumptuary acts which were made in 
 the following parliaments." 
 
 Gylbin, come /" St XXVII. p. 201. 
 
 See the story of Gilpin Horner, pp. 261, 262. 
 
 For he was speechless, ghastly, wan t 
 Like him, of whom the story ran, 
 Who spoke the spectre-hound in Man. 
 
 St. XXVII. p. 201. 
 
 The ancient castle of Peel-town, in the Isle of Man, is sur- 
 rounded by four churches, now ruinous. Through one of 
 these chapels there was formerly a passage from the guard- 
 room of the garrison. This was closed, it is said, upon the 
 following occasion ; " They say that an apparition, called, in 
 the Mankish language, the Mauthe Doog, in the shape of a 
 large black spaniel, with curled shaggy hair, was used to 
 haunt Peel-castle ; and has been frequently seen in every 
 room, but particularly in the guard-chamber, where, as soon 
 Y
 
 338 
 
 as candles were lighted, it came and lay down- before the fire, 
 in presence of all the soldiers, who, at length, by being so 
 much accustomed to the sight of it, lost great part of the ter- 
 ror they were seized with at its first appearance. They still, 
 however, retained a certain awe, as believing it was an evil 
 spirit, which only waited permission to do them hurt; and, 
 for that reason, forebore swearing, and all prophane discourse, 
 while in its company. But, though they endured the shock of 
 such a guest when altogether in a body, none cared to be left 
 alone with it. It being the custom, therefore, for one of the 
 soldiers to lock the gates of the castle at a certain hour, and 
 carry the keys to the captain, to whose apartment, as I said 
 before, the way led through the church, they agreed among 
 themselves, that whoever was to succeed the ensuing night his 
 fellow in this errand, should accompany him that went first, 
 and by this means no man would be exposed singly to the 
 danger : for I forgot to mention, that the Mauthe Doog was 
 always seen to come out of that passage at the close of day, 
 and return to it again as soon as the morning dawned ; which 
 made them look on this place as its peculiar residence. 
 
 " One night, a fellow being drunk, and, by the strength of 
 his liquor, rendered more daring than ordinarily, laughed at 
 the simplicity of his companions ; and, though it was not his 
 turn to go with the keys, would needs take that office upon 
 him, to testify his courage. All the soldiers endeavoured to 
 dissuade him ; but the more they said, the more resolute he 
 seemed, and swore that he desired nothing more than that the
 
 339 
 
 Mauthe Doog would follow him, as it had done the others; 
 for he would try if it were dog or devil. After having talked 
 in a very reprobate manner for some time, he snatched up the 
 keys, and went out of the guard-room : in some time after his 
 departure, a great noise was heard, but nobody had the bold- 
 ness to see what occasioned it, till, the adventurer returning, 
 they demanded the knowledge of him ; but as loud and noisy 
 as he had been at leaving them, he was now become sober 
 and silent enough ; for he was never heard to speak more : 
 and though, all the time he lived, which was three days, he 
 was entreated by all who carne near him, either to speak, or, 
 if he could not do that, to make some signs, by which they 
 might understand what had happened to him ; yet nothing in- 
 telligible could be got from him, only that, by the distortion of 
 his limbs and features, it might be guessed that he died in ago- 
 nies more than is common in a natural death. 
 
 " The Mauthe Doog was, however, never after seen in the 
 castle, nor would any one attempt to go through that passage ; 
 for which reason it was closed up, and another way made. 
 This accident happened about threescore years since : and I 
 heard it attested by several, but especially by an old soldier, 
 who assured me he had seen it oftener than he had then hairs 
 on his head." WALDRON'S Description of the Isle of Man, 
 
 P. ior.
 
 340 
 
 *w . 
 
 And he a solemn sacred plight 
 Did to St Bryde of Douglas make. 
 
 St. XXVIII. p. 202. 
 
 This was a favourite saint of the house of Douglas, and of 
 the Earl of Angus in particular ; as we learn from the follow- 
 ing passage. The Queen-regent had -proposed to raise a rival 
 noble to the ducal dignity ; and discoursing of her purpose 
 with Angus, he answered, " Why not, madam ? we are happy 
 that have such a princess, that can know and will acknow- 
 ledge men's service, and is willing to recompence it : But, by 
 the might of God (this was his oath when he was serious and 
 in anger ; at other times, it was by Saint Bride of Douglas), if 
 he be a Duke, I will be a Drake !" So she desisted from pro- 
 eecuting of that purpose. GODSCROFT, Vol. II. p. 131. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 Printed by James Ballantync & Co.

 
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