diff options
Diffstat (limited to '38845-h/38845-h.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | 38845-h/38845-h.htm | 10640 |
1 files changed, 10640 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/38845-h/38845-h.htm b/38845-h/38845-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8c3c2c8 --- /dev/null +++ b/38845-h/38845-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10640 @@ +<?xml version='1.0' encoding='utf-8'?> +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC '-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN' 'http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml11/DTD/xhtml11.dtd'> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8" /> +<meta name="generator" content="Docutils 0.8.1: http://docutils.sourceforge.net/" /> +<style type="text/css"> +/* +Project Gutenberg common docutils stylesheet. + +This stylesheet contains styles common to HTML and EPUB. Put styles +that are specific to HTML and EPUB into their relative stylesheets. + +:Author: Marcello Perathoner (webmaster@gutenberg.org) +:Copyright: This stylesheet has been placed in the public domain. + +This stylesheet is based on: + + :Author: David Goodger (goodger@python.org) + :Copyright: This stylesheet has been placed in the public domain. + + Default cascading style sheet for the HTML output of Docutils. + +*/ + +/* ADE 1.7.2 chokes on !important and throws all css out. */ + +/* FONTS */ + +.italics { font-style: italic } +.no-italics { font-style: normal } + +.bold { font-weight: bold } +.no-bold { font-weight: normal } + +.small-caps { } /* Epub needs italics */ +.gesperrt { } /* Epub needs italics */ +.antiqua { font-style: italic } /* what else can we do ? */ +.monospaced { font-family: monospace } + +.smaller { font-size: smaller } +.larger { font-size: larger } + +.xx-small { font-size: xx-small } +.x-small { font-size: x-small } +.small { font-size: small } +.medium { font-size: medium } +.large { font-size: large } +.x-large { font-size: x-large } +.xx-large { font-size: xx-large } + +.text-transform-uppercase { text-transform: uppercase } +.text-transform-lowercase { text-transform: lowercase } +.text-transform-none { text-transform: none } + +.red { color: red } +.green { color: green } +.blue { color: blue } +.yellow { color: yellow } +.white { color: white } +.gray { color: gray } +.black { color: black } + +/* ALIGN */ + +.left { text-align: left } +.justify { text-align: justify } +.center { text-align: center; text-indent: 0 } +.centerleft { text-align: center; text-indent: 0 } +.right { text-align: right; text-indent: 0 } + +/* LINE HEIGHT */ + +body { line-height: 1.5 } +p { margin: 0; + text-indent: 2em } + +/* PAGINATION */ + +.title, .subtitle { page-break-after: avoid } + +.container, .title, .subtitle, #pg-header + { page-break-inside: avoid } + +/* SECTIONS */ + +body { text-align: justify } + +p.pfirst, p.noindent { + text-indent: 0 +} + +.boxed { border: 1px solid black; padding: 1em } +.topic, .note { margin: 5% 0; border: 1px solid black; padding: 1em } +div.section { clear: both } + +div.line-block { margin: 1.5em 0 } /* same leading as p */ +div.line-block.inner { margin: 0 0 0 10% } +div.line { margin-left: 20%; text-indent: -20%; } +.line-block.noindent div.line { margin-left: 0; text-indent: 0; } + +hr.docutils { margin: 1.5em 40%; border: none; border-bottom: 1px solid black; } +div.transition { margin: 1.5em 0 } + +.vfill, .vspace { border: 0px solid white } + +.title { margin: 1.5em 0 } +.title.with-subtitle { margin-bottom: 0 } +.subtitle { margin: 1.5em 0 } + +/* header font style */ +/* http://dev.w3.org/csswg/css3-fonts/#propdef-font-size */ + +h1.title { font-size: 200%; } /* for book title only */ +h2.title, p.subtitle.level-1 { font-size: 150%; margin-top: 4.5em; margin-bottom: 2em } +h3.title, p.subtitle.level-2 { font-size: 120%; margin-top: 2.25em; margin-bottom: 1.25em } +h4.title, p.subtitle.level-3 { font-size: 100%; margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; font-weight: bold; } +h5.title, p.subtitle.level-4 { font-size: 89%; margin-top: 1.87em; margin-bottom: 1.69em; font-style: italic; } +h6.title, p.subtitle.level-5 { font-size: 60%; margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 2.5em } + +/* title page */ + +h1.title, p.subtitle.level-1, +h2.title, p.subtitle.level-2 { text-align: center } + +#pg-header, +h1.document-title { margin: 10% 0 5% 0 } +p.document-subtitle { margin: 0 0 5% 0 } + +/* PG header and footer */ +#pg-machine-header { } +#pg-produced-by { } + +li.toc-entry { list-style-type: none } +ul.open li, ol.open li { margin-bottom: 1.5em } + +.attribution { margin-top: 1.5em } + +.example-rendered { + margin: 1em 5%; border: 1px dotted red; padding: 1em; background-color: #ffd } +.literal-block.example-source { + margin: 1em 5%; border: 1px dotted blue; padding: 1em; background-color: #eef } + +/* DROPCAPS */ + +/* BLOCKQUOTES */ + +blockquote { margin: 1.5em 10% } + +blockquote.epigraph { } + +blockquote.highlights { } + +div.local-contents { margin: 1.5em 10% } + +div.abstract { margin: 3em 10% } +div.image { margin: 1.5em 0 } +div.caption { margin: 1.5em 0 } +div.legend { margin: 1.5em 0 } + +.hidden { display: none } + +.invisible { visibility: hidden; color: white } /* white: mozilla print bug */ + +a.toc-backref { + text-decoration: none ; + color: black } + +dl.docutils dd { + margin-bottom: 0.5em } + +div.figure { margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em } + +img { max-width: 100% } + +div.footer, div.header { + clear: both; + font-size: smaller } + +div.sidebar { + margin: 0 0 0.5em 1em ; + border: medium outset ; + padding: 1em ; + background-color: #ffffee ; + width: 40% ; + float: right ; + clear: right } + +div.sidebar p.rubric { + font-family: sans-serif ; + font-size: medium } + +ol.simple, ul.simple { margin: 1.5em 0 } + +ol.toc-list, ul.toc-list { padding-left: 0 } +ol ol.toc-list, ul ul.toc-list { padding-left: 5% } + +ol.arabic { + list-style: decimal } + +ol.loweralpha { + list-style: lower-alpha } + +ol.upperalpha { + list-style: upper-alpha } + +ol.lowerroman { + list-style: lower-roman } + +ol.upperroman { + list-style: upper-roman } + +p.credits { + font-style: italic ; + font-size: smaller } + +p.label { + white-space: nowrap } + +p.rubric { + font-weight: bold ; + font-size: larger ; + color: maroon ; + text-align: center } + +p.sidebar-title { + font-family: sans-serif ; + font-weight: bold ; + font-size: larger } + +p.sidebar-subtitle { + font-family: sans-serif ; + font-weight: bold } + +p.topic-title, p.admonition-title { + font-weight: bold } + +pre.address { + margin-bottom: 0 ; + margin-top: 0 ; + font: inherit } + +.literal-block, .doctest-block { + margin-left: 2em ; + margin-right: 2em; } + +span.classifier { + font-family: sans-serif ; + font-style: oblique } + +span.classifier-delimiter { + font-family: sans-serif ; + font-weight: bold } + +span.interpreted { + font-family: sans-serif } + +span.option { + white-space: nowrap } + +span.pre { + white-space: pre } + +span.problematic { + color: red } + +span.section-subtitle { + /* font-size relative to parent (h1..h6 element) */ + font-size: 100% } + +table { margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; border-spacing: 0 } +table.align-left, table.align-right { margin-top: 0 } + +table.table { border-collapse: collapse; } + +table.table.hrules-table thead { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 2px 0 0 } +table.table.hrules-table tbody { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 2px 0 } +table.table.hrules-rows tr { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 0 0 1px } +table.table.hrules-rows tr.last { border-width: 0 } +table.table.hrules-rows td, +table.table.hrules-rows th { padding: 1ex 1em; vertical-align: middle } + +table.table tr { border-width: 0 } +table.table td, +table.table th { padding: 0.5ex 1em } +table.table tr.first td { padding-top: 1ex } +table.table tr.last td { padding-bottom: 1ex } +table.table tr.first th { padding-top: 1ex } +table.table tr.last th { padding-bottom: 1ex } + + +table.citation { + border-left: solid 1px gray; + margin-left: 1px } + +table.docinfo { + margin: 3em 4em } + +table.docutils { } + +div.footnote-group { margin: 1em 0 } +table.footnote td.label { width: 2em; text-align: right; padding-left: 0 } + +table.docutils td, table.docutils th, +table.docinfo td, table.docinfo th { + padding: 0 0.5em; + vertical-align: top } + +table.docutils th.field-name, table.docinfo th.docinfo-name { + font-weight: bold ; + text-align: left ; + white-space: nowrap ; + padding-left: 0 } + +/* used to remove borders from tables and images */ +.borderless, table.borderless td, table.borderless th { + border: 0 } + +table.borderless td, table.borderless th { + /* Override padding for "table.docutils td" with "!important". + The right padding separates the table cells. */ + padding: 0 0.5em 0 0 } /* FIXME: was !important */ + +h1 tt.docutils, h2 tt.docutils, h3 tt.docutils, +h4 tt.docutils, h5 tt.docutils, h6 tt.docutils { + font-size: 100% } + +ul.auto-toc { + list-style-type: none } +</style> +<style type="text/css"> +/* +Project Gutenberg HTML docutils stylesheet. + +This stylesheet contains styles specific to HTML. +*/ + +/* FONTS */ + +/* em { font-style: normal } +strong { font-weight: normal } */ + +.small-caps { font-variant: small-caps } +.gesperrt { letter-spacing: 0.1em } + +/* ALIGN */ + +.align-left { clear: left; + float: left; + margin-right: 1em } + +.align-right { clear: right; + float: right; + margin-left: 1em } + +.align-center { margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto } + +div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } + +/* SECTIONS */ + +body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } + +/* compact list items containing just one p */ +li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } + +.first { margin-top: 0 !important; + text-indent: 0 !important } +.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } + +span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } +img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } +span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } + +.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } + +/* PAGINATION */ + +.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } +.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } +.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } +.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } +.toc-pageref { float: right } + +@media screen { + .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage + { margin: 10% 0; } + + div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage + { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } + + .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } +} + +@media print { + div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } + div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } + + .vfill { margin-top: 20% } + h2.title { margin-top: 20% } +} + +/* DIV */ +pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } + +</style> +<title>STORIES OF THE SCOTTISH BORDER</title> +<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> +<meta name="PG.Title" content="Stories of the Scottish Border" /> +<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> +<meta name="DC.Creator" content="Mr and Mrs William Platt" /> +<meta name="DC.Created" content="1910" /> +<meta name="MARCREL.ill" content="M. Meredith Williams" /> +<meta name="PG.Id" content="38845" /> +<meta name="PG.Released" content="2013-07-17" /> +<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> +<meta name="DC.Title" content="Stories of the Scottish Border" /> + +<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> +<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> +<meta content="Stories of the Scottish Border" name="DCTERMS.title" /> +<meta content="border.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> +<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> +<meta content="2013-07-18T03:58:58.700436+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> +<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> +<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> +<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/38845" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> +<meta content="Mr and Mrs William Platt" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> +<meta content="M. Meredith Williams" name="MARCREL.ill" /> +<meta content="2013-07-17" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> +<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> +<meta content="EpubMaker 0.3.20a7 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 38845 ***</div> +<div class="document" id="stories-of-the-scottish-border"> +<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">STORIES OF THE SCOTTISH BORDER</span></h1> + +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> +</div> +<div class="align-None container frontispiece"> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 64%" id="figure-145"> +<span id="the-rookhope-ride"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="*The Rookhope Ride*" src="images/img-front.jpg" /> +<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> +<em class="italics">The Rookhope Ride</em></div> +</div> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +</div> +<div class="align-None container titlepage"> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">STORIES OF THE +<br />SCOTTISH BORDER</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BY</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">Mr and Mrs WILLIAM PLATT</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">WITH SIXTEEN FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS BY +<br />M. MEREDITH WILLIAMS</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">GEORGE G. HARRAP & CO. LTD. +<br />LONDON BOMBAY SYDNEY</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +</div> +<div class="align-None container verso"> +<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics small">First published December 1910</em><span class="small"> +<br /></span><em class="italics small">by</em><span class="small"> GEORGE G. HARRAP & COMPANY +<br /></span><em class="italics small">39-41 Parker Street, Kingsway, London, W.C.2 +<br />Reprinted: December 1916; March 1919; +<br />April 1929</em></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics small">Printed in Great Britain by Turnbull & Spears, Edinburgh</em></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">Contents</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#introduction">INTRODUCTION</a></p> +<ol class="upperroman simple"> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-character-of-the-borders">THE CHARACTER OF THE BORDERS</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-brief-history-of-the-border">A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE BORDER</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#what-the-border-names-tell-us">WHAT THE BORDER NAMES TELL US</a></p> +</li> +</ol> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">CHAP.</span></p> +<ol class="upperroman simple"> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#bamburgh-and-its-coast">Bamburgh and its Coast</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#athelstan-at-vinheath">Athelstan at Vinheath</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#monks-and-minstrels">Monks and Minstrels</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#sir-patrick-spens">Sir Patrick Spens</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#auld-maitland">Auld Maitland</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-mystery-of-the-eildons">The Mystery of the Eildons</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#black-agnes-of-dunbar">Black Agnes of Dunbar</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-young-tamlane">The Young Tamlane</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-gay-goss-hawk">The Gay Goss-Hawk</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-corbies">The Corbies</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#otterbourne-and-chevy-chase">Otterbourne and Chevy Chase</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-douglas-clan">The Douglas Clan</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#alnwick-castle-and-the-percies">Alnwick Castle and the Percies</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#hexham-and-queen-margaret">Hexham and Queen Margaret</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#fair-helen-of-kirkconnell">Fair Helen of Kirkconnell</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#johnie-of-breadislee">Johnie of Breadislee</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#katharine-janfarie">Katharine Janfarie</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#by-lauder-bridge">By Lauder Bridge</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-battle-of-flodden-field">The Battle of Flodden Field</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#after-flodden">After Flodden</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#graeme-and-bewick">Graeme and Bewick</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-song-of-the-outlaw-murray">The Song of the Outlaw Murray</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#johnie-armstrong">Johnie Armstrong</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-lament-of-the-border-widow">The Lament of the Border Widow</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-raid-of-the-kers">The Raid of the Kers</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#merrie-carlisle">Merrie Carlisle</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#kinmont-willie">Kinmont Willie</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#dick-o-the-cow">Dick o' the Cow</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-lochmaben-harper">The Lochmaben Harper</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#id2">The Rookhope Ride</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#barthram-s-dirge">Barthram's Dirge</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#queen-mary-and-the-borders">Queen Mary and the Borders</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-raid-of-the-reidswire">The Raid of the Reidswire</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#jock-o-the-side">Jock o' the Side</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#hobbie-noble">Hobbie Noble</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-laird-o-logie">The Laird o' Logie</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#jamie-telfer-of-the-fair-dodhead">Jamie Telfer of the Fair Dodhead</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#muckle-mou-d-meg">Muckle-Mou'd Meg</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-dowie-dens-of-yarrow">The Dowie Dens of Yarrow</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#belted-will-and-the-baronry-of-gilsland">Belted Will and the Baronry of Gilsland</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#gilderoy">Gilderoy</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#archie-armstrong-s-oath">Archie Armstrong's Oath</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#christie-s-will">Christie's Will</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#northumberland-at-the-time-of-the-civil-war">Northumberland at the Time of the Civil War</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#montrose-and-lesly">Montrose and Lesly</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-death-of-montrose">The Death of Montrose</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-borderers-and-the-jacobites">The Borderers and the Jacobites</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-nine-nicks-o-thirlwall">The Nine Nicks o' Thirlwall</a></p> +</li> +<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#in-wild-northumberland-to-day">In Wild Northumberland To-Day</a></p> +</li> +</ol> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">Illustrations</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-rookhope-ride">The Rookhope Ride.</a><span> . . . . . . Frontispiece</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#egil-at-vinheath">Egil at Vinheath</a></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-siege-of-maitland-castle">The Siege of Maitland Castle</a></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#black-agnes">Black Agnes</a></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-twa-corbies">The Twa Corbies</a></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-final-battle-in-the-streets-of-hexham">The Final Battle in the Streets of Hexham</a></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#id1">Johnie of Breadislee.</a></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#flodden-field">Flodden Field</a></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#tell-us-alloh-tell-us-true">"Tell Us All—Oh, Tell Us True!"</a></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-border-widow">The Border Widow</a></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-escape-of-kinmont-willie">The Escape of Kinmont Willie</a></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#queen-mary-crossing-the-solway">Queen Mary crossing the Solway</a></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-boon-a-boon-my-noble-liege">"A Boon, a Boon, my Noble Liege!"</a></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#she-kissed-his-cheek-she-kaim-d-his-hair">"She Kissed his Cheek, She Kaim'd his Hair"</a></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-storming-of-newcastle">The Storming of Newcastle</a></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#tis-i-tis-thy-winifred">"'Tis I, 'Tis thy Winifred!"</a></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">In liquid murmurs Yarrow sings</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">Her reminiscent tune</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">Of bygone Autumn, bygone Springs,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">And many a leafy June.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">No more the morning beacons gleam</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">Upon the silent hills;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">The far back years are years of dream—</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">Now peace the valley fills.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">No more the reivers down the vale</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">On raid and foray ride;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">No more is heard the widow's wail</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">O'er those who fighting died.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">When morning damns with all its joys</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">Then from the meadows rise</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">A hundred throbbing hearts to voice</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">Their anthems to the skies.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">When noontide sleeps where brackens wave,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">Ere shadows yet grow long,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">No sound awakes the echoes save</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">The Yarrow's pensive song.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">And when the eve, with calm delight,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">Betokens night is nigh,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">Beneath the first star's tender light</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">Is heard the owlet's cry.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">While Yarrow's liquid cadence swells</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">By meadow, moor, and hill,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">At morn or noon or eve there dwells</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span class="italics">A mournful memory still.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block no-italics outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>W. CUTHBERTSON.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="the-character-of-the-borders"><span id="introduction"></span><span class="bold x-large">Stories of +The Scottish Border</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">Introduction</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">I.—THE CHARACTER OF THE BORDERS</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The district called the Border is one of the +most interesting in Great Britain. It consists +of that part of England that is nearest Scotland, +and that part of Scotland that is nearest England, +mainly the counties of Northumberland, Cumberland, +Berwickshire, Roxburghshire, and Dumfriesshire.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The country is very picturesque and highly romantic. +It abounds in great rolling, breezy hills, with swift +streamlets or "burns" running down their sides to +swell the rushing rivers. No part of our island has more +beautiful valleys than those of the Border.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>This bold, rough district, well adapted to defence, and +situated also just where the island of Great Britain is +almost at its narrowest, became, after many a struggle, +the boundary between England and Scotland. The +character of the country was suited to the rearing of +hardy Moorland sheep and cattle; its inhabitants therefore +were a tough, open-air race of men, strong, strapping +fellows, fearless riders, always ready for an adventure, +especially if it meant a fight.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In those days of Border strife there was hardly such a +thing as international justice, that is to say, the people of +one nation were not very particular as to what they did +to people of another nation; therefore these bold, hardy +Border men, Englishmen and Scot alike, were fond of +creeping across the boundary to steal the cattle of their +neighbours. Men devoted to such raids were called +"Freebooters" or "Mosstroopers," the name "Moss" +being given in the North Country to boggy tracts that +lie about the hill-sides.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So it happened that the Border was in a perpetual +state of petty warfare, conducted, it is true, with a +certain amount of good-will and a rough approach to +chivalry, and with the concurrence of the powerful +Border nobles of both nations, who often played an +important part therein. At times these raids developed +into important warlike expeditions, when a fierce noble, +or even a king, had some reckless game to play. Hence, +among the ballads which give us so vivid an account +of Border strife, we find descriptions not only of the +minor doings of picturesque sheep-stealers, but also +of pitched battles such as Chevy Chase and Homildon Hill.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The union of England and Scotland in 1603 naturally +put an end to all the former excuses for raiding, and +therefore terminated the true Freebooter period. After +this, despite one or two belated attempts, such as Elliot's +big raid in 1611, sheep-stealing ceased to be looked upon +as an honourable calling, and became mere thieving. +The men who would have raided one another's farms +in 1602 became friendly neighbours after the Border +Commission of 1605. There had been little malice in +their former freebooting. Both sides were of one race; +and they had the pleasure of finding that their lands +went up greatly in value in consequence of the Border peace.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>To-day, the Border presents scenes of peaceful +cattle-farming. But Romance is still in the air, hangs about +the fine, breezy moorlands and beautiful dales, and is +seen clearly in the faces of the healthy Border-folk. A +holiday at any Border farm would prove a most +enjoyable one. There are wonderful Roman remains, for +here it was that the Romans built their wall; there are +castles of the Border barons; the views are wide and +grand; the river-valleys are unmatched for beauty, +and delightful wild flowers are plentiful, chief among +which are fox-gloves, the giant wild Canterbury Bells, +the handsome North Country wild geranium, several +interesting kinds of wild orchids, and a variety of others +too numerous to mention. Last, but not least, it is +often possible in the evenings to see the farmers' sons +engaged in friendly wrestling in the meadows, when +we can realise that these great manly fellows are of the +same vigorous race that kept the Borders lively a few +centuries ago.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="a-brief-history-of-the-border"><span class="medium">II.—A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE BORDER</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Before dealing in detail with the stirring stories of +Border history and legend, to retell which is the purpose +of this book, we will first inquire—What is it that +settles exactly the position of the border-line between +two countries? To find the answer we must think +what happens when a country is invaded.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>If the invaders are stronger than the people whom they +attack, they go on thrusting back their foes till these +reach some strong position where, by the aid of mountain, +river, or marsh, they are able, at any rate for a time, +to hold their own. Thus, a border-line is always +determined by some natural feature of the country which +gives the defenders an advantage.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The attackers will not always operate from the same +locality, and the defenders will not always fall back in +the same direction; the two sides, also, will vary in +power from time to time. For these reasons a border-line, +especially in the old fighting days, was often altered.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When the Romans invaded Britain they gradually +conquered the southern part of it, but they could not +subdue the wilder north; one of their boundary lines +was drawn from the Solway to the Tyne; then they +fought their way further north and their next definite +boundary was a line running from the Forth to the Clyde. +Along each of these boundaries they built a great wall, +and to this day parts of these Roman walls remain. +But it is worth noting that neither of these wall +border-lines stands upon the present border, one being +all in England and the other all in Scotland.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When the Romans left Britain, called back to defend +their own native land from invasion, there followed a +brief period for which we have no definite record of +events in this island. This is the period of King Arthur, +and none can say how much is true in the Arthurian +legends.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But history begins to become clear again about the +time that the Angles came in their ships across the +North Sea, bent on conquest. They landed on all the +natural harbours of the east coast, driving the Britons +back and taking the land for themselves. The fact that +they landed on the East and drove the Britons westward, +leads us to think that sooner or later a boundary +would have been formed dividing the island into the east +side (for the Angles) and the west side (for the Britons).</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Now that is exactly what did happen. The border-lines +were nowhere like the present ones. The northern +kingdom of the Angles reached to the Forth, where these +people founded Edinburgh (Edwin's burgh). On the +west the Britons had sway in Cornwall (Corn-Walles), +Wales, Cumbria (which stretched from the Mersey to +the Solway), and Strathclyde (from the Solway to the +Clyde). North of the Forth was the country of the Picts; +while the Scots were a race recently come from Ireland, +and they only owned what we now call Argyleshire, and +the islands lying near to it. Not one inch of the present +Border was at that day in the border-line!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Of the various races that lay round about where the +Border now is, the Northumbrians seemed at first to be +the strongest. The capital of their kingdom was +Bamburgh, a place still famous for its castle, though +to-day it is not important enough to have a railway +station! But it still looks very picturesque on the wild +coast, with the Farne Islands, the first seat of +Northumbrian Christianity, in the near distance.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Ambition had much to do with the downfall of +Northumbria. The famous King Eadbert would not rest +content till he had scaled Dumbarton, the capital of +Strathclyde. This was to his career what the march +to Moscow was to Napoleon's, for, though Eadbert got +safely to Dumbarton (756) his army was cut to pieces +in getting back again. The Northumbrians seem to +have lost some of their northern lands, for they moved +their capital further south, to the old Roman city of +Corbridge which stood on the Tyne just where the +delightful country town of that name stands to-day.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In 844 a king of the Scots, named Kenneth MacAlpin, +became (we don't quite know how) king of the Picts also, +joining two strong races under one ruler, and thus was +powerful enough to give great trouble to the weakened +kingdom of Northumbria. He several times led his army +through Lothian, the district belonging to the Angles +between the Forth and the Tweed, but was never quite +able to conquer it. It is important to remember that +up to that date Lothian had never belonged to Scotland. +The appearance of the Danes added to the confusion +of those restless days. For some few years it was +doubtful whether Scot, Dane, or Angle would get the best of it +in Northumbria. But at last the genius of Athelstan of +Wessex revived the power of the Angles over the whole +of that large part of the island which they had settled, +right up to the Forth itself. Edinburgh was still English +in 957, and the border-line was still very far from the +present one. But there was no longer a king of +Northumbria; only an earl, who was subject to the will +of the West-Saxon kings.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>This fact of the dominance of the West Saxons, whose +capital was far to the south at Winchester, must have +added to the weakness of the Northumbrian border. +By the year 963 the Scots had conquered Edinburgh, +and it was now never again to return to English rule. +Before very long the whole of Lothian had passed under +Scottish control; but it was not yet held to be part of +Scotland. Nor must it be thought that this conquest +of Lothian fixed the border-line in its present position, +for the king of the Scots was at that time ruler over +Cumberland, which had never yet been English and was +all that was left of the old British kingdom of Cumbria.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Frontier wars with varying successes between Scot, +Angle, and Dane mark the stormy history of this time. +The power of Cnut held back the Scotch attempts upon +Nothumberland; but during a lull in the wars the grand-son +of the Scottish king married the sister of Earl Siward, +and received as her dowry twelve towns in the valley +of the Tyne, an astonishingly imprudent arrangement.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>At the time of the battle of Hastings, the earldom of +Northumberland was so far distant from Winchester +as to be somewhat out of the control of the King of +England; the power of the Scottish kings threatened it; +they held twelve towns in Tynedale, and Cumberland +was a part of Scotland. The Northumbrians refused to +accept William the Conqueror as their king; and had +they been able to make good their refusal, they must +sooner or later have been conquered by the Scots, and +the border-line between England and Scotland would +then most probably have been formed by the Tees, the +mountain boundary of Westmoreland, and Morecambe Bay.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But William was not a king to be played with. He +reduced Northumberland to subjection and carried his +army into Scotland as far as the river Tay, where he +forced the King of Scotland to admit that he, William, +was his overlord.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Notwithstanding this humiliation, when King William +returned to Winchester, the Scots several times went +back to their favourite amusement of raiding unhappy +Northumberland.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>One of these invasions took place in the reign of +William Rufus (1093), who went north in person. He +doubtless recognised the fact that owing to the Scots +possessing Cumberland they were in the strong position +of being able to attack Northumberland on two sides. +He took Cumberland by force of arms, and thus for the +first time it became a part of England (the word +"Cumberland" means the land of the Cumbrians or +Welsh, a Saxon form of the Welsh word Cymry).</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Rufus rebuilt the strong fortress of Carlisle to defend +his new border at its weakest corner. For the most part +this border is excellently protected by the natural +rampart of the wild Cheviot Hills, and is in every way as +good a border as could be devised. It runs in a fairly +straight line from south-west to north-east, across a +narrow part of the island.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But although this border-line proved to be a +permanent one, it must not be thought that it remained +undisputed. The times were rough, and hardy fighting +folk lived on the Border. They had many grounds for +quarrel, and took advantage of them all. For one thing, +the exact boundary of North Cumberland was never +quite defined till 1552; up to which year there was a +tract of land between the rivers Esk and Sark, which was +claimed by both countries, and therefore called the +"Debateable Land." Then the Scots maintained that +they were overlords of Northumberland, while the +English kings cherished the notion that they were +overlords of the whole island of Britain, and the wild spirits +on both sides were always ready to fight.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Out of this fighting spirit sprung the stirring history +of the Border, which forms the theme of the deathless +Ballads, the stories of which it is now our purpose to +retell.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="what-the-border-names-tell-us"><span class="medium">III.—WHAT THE BORDER NAMES TELL US</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Many a name holds a meaning wrapt up within itself +like a nut in its shell. For instance, "Edinburgh" +is a Saxon name—Edwin's burgh—and the word tells +us that this noble city, though now the capital of +Scotland, was originally founded by and belonged to +a Saxon king of Northumbria. The Highlanders, in +their own Gaelic language, called it Dunedin. This has +the same signification as Edinburgh, but, like most +Gaelic names, it is arranged in the reverse order to that +in which an English name is generally put together. +"Dun" means burgh, "Edin" is Edwin. This is the +same Dun that we have in "Dundee," which means +the burgh on the Tay, and might be translated as +"Tayburgh." "Dumbarton" means the burgh of the +Britons, and teaches us another notable lesson, namely, +how far north in the old times the British influence +extended. For "British" in this case means +"Welsh." Nowadays we associate the Welsh with Wales only. +Formerly there must have been a numerous colony of +Welsh in Scotland, as the name "Dumbarton" testifies, +as also many Scottish family names. The great name +of Wallace itself, for instance, suggests such an origin, +for "Wallace" is merely a corrupt form of the word +"Welsh," and proves that the great national hero was +of Welsh extraction. Then "Cumberland"—Cymry +land—means the land of the Welsh, or Cymry, as they +call themselves. The county of Cumberland did not +really belong to the English till the time of William +Rufus. The first syllable of "Carlisle" denotes a Celtic +fortified town, and must be compared with the first +syllable of "Carnarvon."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The presence of the Roman wall is shown in many +names in Northumberland, such as "Wallsend," +"Walltown," "Wallridge," "Heddon-on-the-Wall," +"Wallhouses," and "Thirlwall."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>For a very interesting instance of what a name tells +us we may leave the Border for a moment and consider +why the northernmost part of Scotland is called +"Sutherland." It must have been so named by people +living in the Orkney and Shetland isles, of a different +race from the Scotch—that is, Norse settlers in those +islands.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>With regard to surnames, how many stop to think +that "Oliphant" is merely a form of "elephant," and +was originally an allusion to a big, burly ancestor? +"Grant," which is the same as "grand," must also have +been once applied to one who was a giant in size. The +Frazers somehow got their name from the French word +for a strawberry, fraise. The odd-looking +"Scrymgeour" means simply a scrimmager or skirmisher. +"Turnbull" recalls one who turned the bull at a +bull-baiting. The well-known "Gladstains" or "Gladstone" +has nothing to do with "glad," but is from "glede," +an old word for the kite, and commemorates some stone +where these birds frequented. "Buccleuch" is from +the killing of a buck in a cleugh or ravine.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The Christian names of the Borderers are full of +life and local colour, and differ much from those of +Southern England. "Barthram" is the northern form +of "Bertram," "Nigel" of "Neil," "Jellon" of +"Julian," "Ringan" of "Ninian." It was the general +custom to abbreviate Christian names or use them in +the diminutive form, as is constantly the practice in +these Border ballads. "Hobbie" stands for "Halbert," +a fine old name which must not be confused with +"Albert." "Dandie" or "Dandrie" is "Andrew," +"Eckie" is "Hector," "Lammie" is "Lambert," +"Lennie" is "Leonard." "Adam" becomes, in the +familiar form, "Aicky," "Christian" becomes "Christy," +"Gilbert" becomes "Gibby."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Another peculiarity of the ballads is the regular +recurrence of such phrases as "the Laird's Jock," +"the Laird's Wat," "Ringan's Wat," etc. These +expressions mean, "John the son of the Laird," +"Walter the son of the Laird," "Walter the son of +Ringan or Ninian."</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="bamburgh-and-its-coast"><span class="bold large">Chapter I</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Bamburgh and its Coast</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The little town of Bamburgh has two striking +features—the great castle upon its stern rock, +and the wild coast-line at its feet where dash +the storms of the North Sea.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>To-day it is not important enough to have a railway +station of its own; yet once it was the capital of the +great Saxon kingdom of Northumbria. Its original +name was Bebbanburgh, so called after Queen Bebba; +of its Saxon fortress hardly a trace remains, the present +building being partly the old Norman castle, with repairs +and additions of a later date. The ancient pile has a +strength, dignity, and grandeur which accords well with +its truly noble situation.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The North Saxons in choosing such a spot for their +capital showed a very evident desire to keep in touch +with the sea. Over the sea they had come; and over +the sea would come both friends and enemies. Many a +meeting of both friend and foe has taken place at +Bamburgh!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps the fiercest of the enemies was Ragnar of the +hairy-breeches, a famous viking who plundered, ravaged, +and burnt without mercy. These vikings, powerful +men and fearless sea-rovers, were a standing terror to +Northumbria. Men with frames and muscles strong as +iron; at home both on the sea and on the battle-field; +fair-haired, blue-eyed men, guarded by helmet, breast-plate, +and shield, armed with heavy weapons, because +at that date the art of the smith was not equal to making +them sharp, light, and strong at once. So these mighty +warriors hewed their way through the field of battle +with great strokes, and when their foes fled in terror, the +vikings took back to their ships all the treasure they +could find, and away they went across the sea again. +But with all their fierceness they loved poetry (wild +war-poetry, most of it) and they loved their strong, +brave women.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Ragnar was a thorough viking. He loved fighting, +and his handsome wife, and the battle songs he made. +But the Saxons had no cause to love him, and when his +ship ran aground near Jarrow, they bound him and cast +him into a pit of snakes, and watched him slowly die. +The viking had no fear of death. He sang as he lay +there, of his life and his deeds—of the great banquets he +had given to the wolves and the vultures and the fierce +battles he had won, spreading the terrors of his name +from the Orkneys to the Mediterranean; of his beautiful +wife and strong sons, and of how they would avenge +him; and of how Woden, the lord of all warriors, was +calling him to his Hall.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Many a battle has been fought on that wild coast since +Ragnar died; much history has been made thereabouts, +and many legends have attached themselves to +Bamburgh. Like most famous places, it had its own special +dragon, the "Laidly Worm" or loathsome serpent of the +ancient ballad.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"For seven miles east, and seven miles west,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And seven miles north and south,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>No blade of grass or corn would grow,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>So venomous was her mouth!"</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>And yet, when the gallant knight gave her "kisses +three," she changed at once into a beautiful lady!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But despite its castle, its battles, and its legends, +Bamburgh slowly declined in importance. As the +capital of Northumbria it had been one of the chief towns +in England. But the gallant Northumbria of the Saxons +was more open to enemies than any other part of the +country; Cumbrians were on the west and Scots on the +north, and this was of all Saxon kingdoms the most +exposed to the ravages of the Danes. From the capital +of a kingdom it became the capital of a county +(Bamburghshire), returning two members to Parliament in the +reign of Edward I.; but it grew of less and still less +importance, till at last it was known only to the student +of history. It shared this fate with Lindisfarne, called +Holy Island, once the Canterbury of the North, on +whose rocky shores still stand the ruins of the fine +Norman cathedral which took the place of the old +Saxon one. Lindisfarne and Bamburgh—neighbours, +divided only by a narrow belt of sea—two names that +conjure up vivid pictures of romantic history. Yet +suddenly, early in the nineteenth century, the great +deed of a splendid heroine lent new glory to the wild, +sea-girt town.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Grace Darling was born at Bamburgh in 1817, in a +cottage on the south side of the village street, which can +still be seen to-day. Her father became keeper of the +lighthouse on the Langstone, a rocky islet five miles +from the coast, guarding ships from the dangerous +Farne Islands, a group of iron-bound rocks where +seabirds dwell. In the early morning of September 7, 1838, +during the raging of a most terrible storm, she heard +the crash of a ship dashed upon the rocks, and anguished +cries; as soon as dawn enabled them to see, the girl and +her father made out the dark outline of the wreck, and +the miserable forms of the mariners crouching on rocks +from which the rising tide would sweep them inevitably +to death. With superb heroism Grace and her father +pushed their small boat into the furious waters, and after +strenuous and dauntless efforts, always at the peril of +their own lives, they saved the whole ship's company, +nine souls in all. So fierce was the storm that it was +three days before a boat dared take them from the +Langstone to the mainland.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The roar of approbation which greeted her from the +whole country found her as modest as she was brave. +But for all her courage, this noble girl was not strong. +She died four years later, and lies buried at Bamburgh, +within sound of the sea. And the Langstone is known +to-day as "Grace Darling's Island," and the tomb of the +brave girl rouses sweeter memories than the frowning +fortress of Bamburgh.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="athelstan-at-vinheath"><span class="bold large">Chapter II</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Athelstan at Vinheath</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Famous among the old Norse sea-rovers was +Egil, son of Skallagrim. In the course of his +many voyages, he visited all the lands between +the White Sea and the Bay of Biscay, and when at last +he settled down in his Iceland home, where he lived on +till well past the age of eighty, he loved to gather his +children and grandchildren around him by the fireside +during the long Icelandic winter, and to tell the story +of his adventures. He was a true Norseman, fond of the +sea and the fight, fond of his wife and children, fond of +song, at which he was highly skilled. His songs and his +stories of adventure were listened to with eagerness, and +they were repeated after him, and were at last written +down, probably between one hundred and fifty and two +hundred years after his death. Books were scarce in +those days, and stories were treasured and faithfully +re-told. So this story of Egil was probably written out +very much in the simple, vigorous style in which the old +warrior would have told it to his grandchildren, as they +listened to him with wide-open, wondering eyes. And +as the old man had taken part in an early battle between +Saxon-English and Scots, upon the Border, we have here +a fine picture of how fights were fought in the reign of +King Athelstan.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Egil was speaking to Icelandic children who knew +little about England, so he began by telling how in the +days when Harold Fairhair was king of Norway, Alfred +the Great was the first supreme king over all England. +When Alfred died he was succeeded by his son Edward, +who was followed by Athelstan the Victorious. In +Egil's day Athelstan was young and had but just been +made king, and many chieftains, who had kept quiet +before, now thought that the time had come when they +could do as they pleased again. But Athelstan meant +to show them that he too could rule England strongly +and wisely.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>These were the days of brute force, and the king had +first to get an army together. Besides his own English +folk, many roving Norsemen came to take his pay, and +among the number were Egil and his elder brother +Thorolf, with their men. They saw the king himself, +who received them well. Athelstan was a good Christian, +known as the Faithful, and he desired that Thorolf and +Egil should submit to be marked with the Cross, that they +might take their place by his Christian soldiers without +quarrel. This they agreed to, and the king gave them +command over three hundred men. Now Olaf the Red +was king in Scotland. His father was a Scot, but his +mother was a Dane of the family of Ragnar +with-the-hairy-breeches, that savage old viking. +Northumberland, which in those days extended to the Humber, and +included York as its chief city, was half-full of Danes, +and King Olaf wished to claim it for his own, and add +it to Scotland.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Athelstan had set Earl Alfgeir and Earl Gudrek to rule +Northumberland and defend it from the Scots. But +Olaf of Scotland came south with his mighty host; +there was a fierce battle; Earl Gudrek was slain and Earl +Alfgeir fled. When Athelstan heard of the triumph of +Olaf, he began at once to march northward with all +the men he could get together; but he was yet young, +and some of the treacherous earls, hearing that Olaf +had so far been victor, deserted King Athelstan. Chief +among these traitors were Earl Hring and Earl Adils, who +should have been in the very front of the English army, +but who basely went over to the Scots. Thus Olaf's +host became exceeding great, greater by far than the +English army.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then Athelstan called together his captains and his +counsellors; Egil was there, and heard all the grave +talk as to what should be done. At last a plan +was made that all thought good, and this is what +followed.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>First, messengers were sent to King Olaf, saying that +King Athelstan would meet him in fair fight at Vinheath +by Vinwood, in Northumberland, where he would mark +out the field of battle with rods of hazel. He who won +the battle should be king over all England. The armies +should meet a week hence, and whichever was first +on the ground should wait a week for the other. King +Olaf should bide quiet, and not harry the land till the +battle was ended. North of the heath was a town; +there King Olaf stayed, for there he could best get +provisions for his army. But some of his men he sent +to the heath, to view it.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The hazel-poles were already set up on the large level +plain. A river was on one side, and a wood was on the +other. And where river and wood were nearest to one +another, there King Athelstan's tents were pitched.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Many tents there were, but the front line of tents +stood high, so that the Scots could not see how many +were behind. Every third tent was empty, but many +men were sleeping on the grass in the open, so that the +Scots might think that the English had a large army +there. Every day more English troops came in, and +when the time was come that was fixed for the battle, +English envoys went to the King of the Scots asking if +there need be the great fight and bloodshed that +threatened; if Olaf would go peaceably home, Athelstan +would give him a shilling of silver for every plough that +ploughed in England. The Scots took counsel together +and said they must have more than this. Then the +messengers begged a three days' truce to consider this. +On the third day they came again, saying that King +Athelstan would give what he offered before and also to +the Scottish army a silver shilling for every freeman +soldier, a silver mark for every lesser officer, a gold +mark for every captain, and five gold marks for every +earl. But the Scots asked not only for this, but also +for Northumberland to be yielded to them. Then the +English messengers answered that Scottish messengers +must ride back with them, to take the answer from +Athelstan himself.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Now the truth is this: that the Scottish king had +taken Athelstan by such surprise that he needed time +to get his men together; all these messages were but a +trick to gain time till the king should come up himself +with all the men he could gather. When, therefore, the +messengers rode up to King Athelstan, he had but just +arrived on the scene of battle. And when he heard the +message he said: "Tell King Olaf this, that I will give +him leave to return to Scotland safely if only he give +back all he has unjustly taken from this land, and if he +own himself my under-king, holding Scotland for me and +at my behest."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>This proud answer made the Scottish messengers at +once see what had been going on. So they hastened +back to their king to tell him how they had been received +and what the meaning of it was.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When the Scots found that the English had thus +outwitted them, they took counsel together in some anger. +Earl Adils, he who had deserted the English, said that he +and his brother, Earl Hring, would that very night make +a surprise attack; if it succeeded, well and good; if +not, then they could easily withdraw, and the main +battle could begin in the morning. This the King of +Scots held to be good advice.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So the two traitor earls and their men moved +southward under cover of the darkness. But Thorolf the +Norseman was used to the ways of war, and his sentries +were alert and blew a great war-blast on their horns. +And thus the fight began.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Thorolf was armed with a massy halberd that stood +taller than a man; broad was its blade and thick its +socket, and it ended in a four-edged spike. He had a +strong sword by his side and a big, heavy shield on his +left arm; he had a helmet but no shirt of mail. His +brother Egil was armed in much the same way. +The Norsemen's standard was borne by Thorfid the +strong.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Next to the Norsemen, in the first rank also, was the +division led by Earl Alfgeir, he who had once before fled +from the Scots. King Athelstan gave him this chance +to redeem himself. Now when the first onslaught of the +Scots took place, Earl Adils came against Earl Alfgeir, +while Earl Hring came against the Norsemen.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>And now the battle began. The two traitor earls +urged on their men, who charged with spirit. The fight +was fierce, and soon Alfgeir gave ground; this made +the foe press on the fiercer, and before long Alfgeir was +in full flight. He avoided the town where Athelstan +was, and fled night and day to the coast, where he took +ship out of the country he had served so ill.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Adils did not dare to pursue him far, for fear of being +himself cut off from his friends. So he returned to help +his brother Hring against the Norsemen. Thorolf, like +a true general, saw the danger of this, and at once told +Egil to turn aside with half their force to prevent Adils +from joining his brother. The Norsemen fought a grand +fight, but were badly outnumbered, and the battle +seemed to be going against them. Then Thorolf became +furious. Disdainful of life, he cast his shield behind his +back, grasped his great halberd with both hands, and +sprang forward, hacking down all who opposed him. +Straight for Hring's standard he went, nothing could stop +him. He slew the standard-bearer, cut through the +standard-pole, and with a mighty stroke thrust his +halberd right through the body of Hring, the traitor +earl, and lifted him up in the air that all might see that +he was slain. Then Adils and the rest of the men fled +to the wood, and thus ended the first part of the fight. +More was to come on the morrow.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>At dawn next day King Athelstan came forward +with his main army. He had heard of the great deeds of +the brothers Thorolf and Egil; most courteously he +thanked them, and said that he would always reckon +them as his friends. Then with his captains he made +his plans for the battle. Egil he put in command of the +front ranks of his men, and Thorolf he set aside to face +those of the Scots who might charge the English in loose +array.</span></p> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 61%" id="figure-146"> +<span id="egil-at-vinheath"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Egil at Vinheath" src="images/img-028.jpg" /> +<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> +<span class="italics">Egil at Vinheath</span></div> +</div> +<p class="pnext"><span>"For this is the way of the Scots," he said; "they +dash to and fro, rush forward and hither and thither, +and are dangerous except to a commander who is both +wary and bold."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Egil said, "I would rather that Thorolf and I were +near together"; but Thorolf answered, "As the king +commands, so will we do."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The battle began, and soon waged furiously. Thorolf +and his men pressed forward along the woodside, hoping +to take the enemy on the flank. Now, unknown to him, +Adils and his followers were hiding among the trees, +and of a sudden Adils sprang out and smote him down. +Thorfid, too, the brave standard-bearer, was pressed +back, but rallied the men, who fought desperately.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The Scots had raised a great shout at the fall of +Thorolf, and this was heard by Egil, who, when he saw +the standard forced back, feared that his brother was +dead, for Thorolf had never drawn back from any foe. +So with a fierce cry Egil hacked his way through to that +part of the field, and when he learnt the truth from +his men, he never rested till he had slain Adils with +his own hand.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The followers of Adils then fled, and Egil and the +Norsemen hewed their way through the flank of the Scottish +force towards the place where King Olaf's standard +was. Noting this, King Athelstan, that wary general, +caused his own standard to be set forward and all his +army to attack at once. Fierce and furious was the +fight, and great was the slaughter. King Olaf was slain, +with great numbers of his men, and the rest fled in +confusion. The English victory was complete.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>As soon as Athelstan saw that victory was his, he left +the pursuit to his captains and hastened to the town to +make his arrangements. Egil pursued far and fiercely, +and when at last he came back to the battlefield +his first thought was for his dead brother. Worn out +though he was, he would take no rest until he had buried +the warrior with full honours, with his arms and his +raiment; and before the sad farewell was said Egil +clasped a gold bracelet on both of Thorolf's wrists to +show his deep love. Then they buried the hero deep +and put a high cairn of stones over him.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then one last tribute Egil paid to his brother, the +greatest of them all. Among these old Norse warriors +there existed a great love of song; the great fighters +strove also to be great song-makers, and Egil was famous +above most for this power. The Norsemen's poems had +not rhymes like ours; they had short vigorous lines, and +in each pair of lines three of the important words had to +begin with the same letter. Wild strong chants they were. +This is the song that Egil sang at the burial of his +brother, Thorolf Skallagrimsson:—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"The halberd of the hero</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Hewed down the foe before him;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Then in the brunt of battle</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Was spilt brave Thorolf's blood.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The grass is green on Vinheath</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Where sleeps my great-souled brother;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>But death, in doubled sorrow,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Our doleful hearts must bear."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>When Egil got to the town he found the king and his +army making merry over their victory at a huge feast. +The courteous king saw Egil and bade him come and sit +near to him. The king watched the burly Norseman, +who was tall, with broad shoulders, a powerful head and +mighty strength; but now his head was bent forward, +and he kept his sword across his knees, and now and +again half drew it and then clashed it back into its +scabbard like a man who fights with heavy thoughts. +He ate little and drank less. Then King Athelstan, +watchful and courteous, took a gold ring from his arm, +and placing it on his sword-point, handed it thus to +where Egil sat. At this mark of honour the Norseman's +face grew brighter. Then the king sent round his own +horn for Egil to drink; so he drank to the king and sang +a verse of wild poetry in his praise, made on the spur +of the moment; and with this the king was much pleased.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then the king sent also for two chests full of silver, +and said to Egil:—</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"These chests carry to thy father; it is fitting that +King Athelstan make him some gift for the loss of his +son. And do thou stay with me long, and I will give +thee honour and dignity."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Thus the great king in kindness and courtesy did what +he could to soothe the grief of the warrior; and Egil +stayed the winter with Athelstan, but when the summer +came he wished to go back to his own people. But he +had much respect for King Athelstan, and ere he bade +him farewell he made a long poem to his glory.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">From the Song of Egil Skallagrimsson, to the Glory of +King Athelstan.</em></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"See how the kingly warrior,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Land-warder, battle-wakener,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Smites even to the earth</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The earls who rise against him!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Glad is now Northumberland,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>This the king she needed,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Wise and bold of race and blood,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Dauntless in the battle-field!"</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Many were the verses of this stirring song; and after +each came the refrain:—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Scottish hills where reindeer roam</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Own the rule of Athelstan!"</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The king gave Egil two heavy gold rings and a +handsome cloak that he himself had worn; then the Norseman +sailed away, for always near to his heart was the +welfare of his dead brother's wife and child. Yea, for the +rest of his long life he loved this child even as he loved +his own.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="monks-and-minstrels"><span class="bold large">Chapter III</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Monks and Minstrels</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The wild Borderland was the scene of the labours +of many ol the first great Christian leaders. +Where the arts of war were so much practised, +it was needful that the arts of peace should flourish also. +Great was the influence, even in the wildest times, of +these able, serious, devoted leaders of early religious +thought, men like Ninian and Kentigern.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Christianity first came into Britain in Roman times, +and some of the Britons were converted. After the +Romans quitted the country, King Arthur was the +leader of the Christian Britons, and he is said to have +fought with the pagan Britons, the pagan Picts, the +pagan Saxons, who had begun their invasions, and the +disorderly soldiers of various races, probably pagans +whom the Romans left behind along the wall.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In due time the fight developed into a struggle between +Christian Britons and pagan Saxons, and then the Saxons +themselves began to accept the new religion. Oswald, +a Northumbrian prince, had in a time of peril hidden in +the island of Iona, to where the great Irishman Columba +had come from Ireland as a missionary. When Oswald +returned to power he summoned to his kingdom Aidan, +a high-minded Christian teacher, whom he made first +bishop of Lindisfarne (Holy Island). Aidan being a +Celt, had to do his work through interpreters, but he +did it well, and laid the foundations of Christianity +and learning in Northumbria. Cuthbert was another +famous missionary. Rising from shepherd-boy to bishop, +he impressed both king and peasant by the dignified +simplicity and sincerity of his life. His place of +meditation was a sea-girt rock by Lindisfarne, lonely and +picturesque, and still called after his name. A curious +fossil, with the mark of a cross, is plentiful there, and +goes by the name of St Cuthbert's beads. Other famous +teachers were Wilfrid of York, who founded the churches +of Hexham and Ripon; Boisil, who founded Melrose, +and Biscop, who founded Jarrow.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But perhaps the most celebrated of all was Bede, +the "Venerable Bede," who lived at Jarrow and wrote +forty-five learned books on all subjects, including music, +astronomy, and medicine. All the scholars in England +flocked to hear his teachings, and he was justly called +"the father of English learning." He it was who first +introduced into England the art of making glass.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>His last work was to translate the Gospel of St John +into Northumbrian English. This was in the year 735. +Being too ill to hold a pen, he dictated to his favourite +pupil. "Write quickly," he said, for he felt that he was +dying. "It is finished," answered the lad, and the old +man's heart was satisfied. In a faint, brave voice he +chanted the </span><em class="italics">Gloria</em><span>, and so died singing.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In those days there was, of course, no such thing as +printing. Every manuscript was written and rewritten, +carefully, by hand, and treasured as a sacred possession +in the seats of learning. So proud were they of their +manuscripts that they beautified them with illustrations +in colour. Many of these manuscripts have, of course, +been destroyed; for instance, the Danes in 875 burnt +the priceless library of Bishop Acca at Hexham, destroying +in one day the treasured collection of a lifetime; +but many remain to show the love of learning which +existed even then. Bishop Edfrid, who lived in the little +rocky island of Lindisfarne, made a copy of the Gospels, +which is looked upon with wonder even to-day. Strings +of beautiful birds and quaint animals are drawn upon +his pages; evangelists with mantles of purple and tunics +of blue, pink, or green. With the writing clear and +beautiful, the decorations showing the greatest care and +devotion, this manuscript of one thousand two hundred +years ago has been the delight of thousands, and comes +down to us to witness to the loving care of the scholars +of old in the days before printing was known.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Great as was their love of beautiful manuscripts, they +had an equally noble passion for grand buildings. A +superb monument of simple dignity and religious +grandeur is the Norman Cathedral at Durham, commenced +by Bishop Carilef in 1093, and finished by Bishop +Flambard in 1128. Occupying a wonderful position at +the top of a wooded hill, around which flows the +beautiful river Wear, Durham Cathedral is in itself one +of the noblest buildings in the world. While the Church +in those troublous times kept thus a storehouse of +learning for serious scholars, other methods kept the +people informed of the more stirring events of their day.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In the old days, when no newspapers existed to tell +people the news, when books were scarce and history +was not taught to every lad as a part of his training, the +ballad-writer and the wandering minstrel played a very +important part. Ballads, sometimes really fine pieces of +poetry, sometimes a mere halting troop of lame lines, +were made upon every occasion of local or general +interest. They were sung to simple and often beautiful +tunes or chants. The best of the minstrels were welcome +to the halls of the nobles, and even to the king himself; +the poorest of them sang on the village green. The +ballads were learnt and repeated by the folk of the +country-side; some were in later times printed on loose +sheets, but at first they were handed on from mouth to +mouth. Alterations and errors often crept in; mistakes +due to a sameness of sound. For instance, in the old +ballad of </span><em class="italics">Mary Ambree</em><span>, a soldier is referred to as "Sir +John Major," probably meaning Sergeant-major. In +one of the versions of the battle of Chevy Chase, Henry +Percy was said to have been killed there, whereas he +really lived on to be slain at Shrewsbury. But, despite +such occasional blunders, the ballads on the whole throw +a vivid light on the manners and customs of the old days, +as well as being usually stirring and sometimes strikingly +noble and pathetic pieces of poetry. They deal as a rule +rather with the side currents than with the main stream +of history; but they express themselves with such +homely force and directness that they bring home to us +with wonderful clearness the character of the vigorous +manly men with whose doings they are chiefly concerned.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>During the last one hundred and fifty years many able +men have laboured to collect old ballads, writing them +down from the mouths of the country-folk and printing +them in books with notes of explanation. One of the +earliest thus to collect ballads seriously was Bishop +Percy; the best known is Sir Walter Scott, of whose +interest in the subject Lockhart, his biographer, writes +very pleasantly.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Prefaced to many of the stirring tales in this present +book are lines from the old Border ballads from which +they are taken. It is to be hoped that readers will be +tempted sooner or later to read the rest of these fine +ballads for themselves.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="sir-patrick-spens"><span class="bold large">Chapter IV</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Sir Patrick Spens</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"The king sits in Dunfermline town</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Drinking the blood-red wine;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>'O where shall I get a well-skilled skipper</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>To sail this new ship of mine?'"</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Almost every collection of Scottish songs +contains this picturesque old ballad, which refers +to a very remote time in Scottish history, +probably the end of the thirteenth century. King +Alexander III. of Scotland died in 1285; he had the +bitter grief of seeing all his children die before him. His +daughter Margaret had been married to Eric, King of +Norway, and she left a daughter also called Margaret, +and known as the "Maid of Norway." This maid was +now heiress to the Scottish throne, and it is natural +to suppose that the lonely king should wish her to +return to Scotland, and should send a richly appointed +ship to fetch her back. And although there is no +strictly historical record of such an expedition, the truth +of the ballad is made more probable by the fact that it +opens in the fine old town of Dunfermline.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Dunfermline was a favourite residence of Alexander, +who was killed in its neighbourhood by a fall from his +horse, and was buried in the abbey there, the ruins of +which beautiful structure still remain.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In this ballad the king is feasting at Dunfermline +town, and calls for a skilful mariner to sail his new ship. +An old knight at the king's right hand answers that the +best sailor who ever sailed the sea is Sir Patrick Spens. +So the king writes a letter, sealing it with his own hand, +and sends it to Sir Patrick, commanding him to sail +away to Norway over the white sea-foam and bring +home the maid.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Now every good sailor dreaded the rough Northern +seas in winter, so though the brave Sir Patrick laughed +aloud when he began to read, he wept blinding tears +before he had ended. "Who has done this deed?" +he cried; "who has told the king of me and urged him +to send us out at this time of the year to sail on the +stormy sea? Yet, wind, wet, hail, or sleet, we must +set out, for 'tis we who must fetch home the maid."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So they set sail on a Monday morning, and reached +Norway on a Wednesday. History tells us that Eric +of Norway was very unwilling to part with his daughter. +This probably accounts for the fact that the old ballad +tells us that the Scotsmen had only been there a +fortnight when the lords of Norway began to say that Sir +Patrick and his men were spending the gold of their +king and queen. "Ye lie," cried Sir Patrick, "loudly +I hear ye lie, for I brought with me over the sea enough +red gold and white money to supply the wants of my +men. Make ready, make ready, my merry men; we +will sail at daybreak." "Alack," quoth the men, "a +deadly storm is brewing. Yesterday evening the new +moon was seen carrying the old moon in her arms; we +shall certainly come to harm if we go to sea."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Barely had they sailed three leagues when the sky +darkened, the wind blew loudly, and the sea grew +boisterous. Soon they were in the midst of a terrible +storm. The anger of the sea was far more dreadful +than the anger of the lords of Norway. The anchors +broke away, the topmasts snapped, and the waves came +over the broken ship, tearing her sides asunder. "O +where shall I get a good sailor to take the helm while +I climb the tall topmast to see if I can espy land?" "That +I fear ye never will," cried a sailor as he took +the helm, and scarcely had Sir Patrick gone a step when +a plank started in the ship's side and the water came +pouring in.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Fetch a web of silken cloth, and fetch a web of +twine," cried Sir Patrick, "and cast them down to our +ship's side!" For it was the custom in those days, when +a leak could not be reached from inside the vessel, +to cast down some closely woven stuff in the hope that +the suction of the water would drag it across the leak +and stop thus the fatal inrush of water. Alas! all their +efforts failed. Then the ballad-writer says somewhat +grimly of the dandies among the Scottish lords that +whereas at first they grumbled to see the water spoil their +fine cork-heeled shoes, when the storm had done its +fatal work the sea was "above their hats"!</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"And many was the feather bed</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>That fluttered on the foam;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And many was the gude lord's son</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>That never mair came home!</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>The ladyes wrang their fingers white;</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The maidens tore their hair,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>A' for the sake of their true loves;</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For them they'll see nae mair.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>O lang, lang may the ladyes sit,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Wi' their fans into their hand,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Before they see Sir Patrick Spens</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Come sailing to the strand!</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And lang, lang may the maidens sit,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>With their goud kaims[#] in their hair,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>A' waiting for their ain dear loves!</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For them they'll see nae mair.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Golden combs.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>O forty miles off Aberdeen,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>'Tis fifty fathoms deep,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Wi' the Scots lords at his feet."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="auld-maitland"><span class="bold large">Chapter V</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Auld Maitland</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"'Wha holds this house?' young Edward cried,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>'Or wha gives it o'er to me?'</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>''Tis I will keep my good old house,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>While my house will keep me!'"</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The story of Auld Maitland is said to be taken +from a very old ballad, and known chiefly to +the people who lived in the neighbourhood of +Ettrick Forest. The old folks there would while away +the long winter evenings by singing of the deeds of their +ancestors, and the ballad of </span><em class="italics">Auld Maitland</em><span>, as thus +chanted, was written down by the mother of James Hogg, +the "Ettrick Shepherd."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The castle of Thirlestane stood on the river Leader, +and still, in its restored form, deserves its name of "the +darksome house." It may have often withstood the +English during the Baliol wars, and hatred of the +English and of Edward I. is expressed with extreme +virulence throughout the poem. Here is the story:—</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>There lived in the south country a king named +Edward, who wore the crown unworthily for fifty years. +This king had a nephew, strong in blood and bone, +who bore the same hateful name. One day the young +man came before the king, and kneeling low, he said, +"A boon, a boon I crave of thee, my good uncle. Oft +have I wished to take part in our long wars in fair +Scotland. Grant me fifteen hundred chosen strong men +to ride there with me."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly thou shalt have them, and more, and I +myself, though old and grey, will see thy host arrayed +for battle."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>King Edward sent hither and thither, and assembled +fifteen hundred men on Tyne side, and three times as many +at North Berwick, all bound for battle. They marched +up the banks of Tweed, burning the Merse and Teviotdale, +and up and down the Lammermoor Hills, until they came +to the darksome house called, by some, "Leader-Town."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Who holds this house?" cried young Edward, +"or who gives it over to me?" He was answered, as +proudly, by a grey-haired knight: "I hold my house +of Scotland's king, who pays me in meat and fee, and +I will hold it as long as it will stand together."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Thereupon the English brought up their sows[#] to +the wall with many a heavy sound, but the soldiers on +the wall cast down blazing pitch and tar barrels, to +consume the formidable machine. They also threw +down stones and beams and darts from their springalds,[#] +and slew many of the English.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] A military engine framed of wood, covered with hides and mounted +on wheels, so that, being rolled forward to the foot of the wall, it +served as a shed to defend the miners underneath it and their +battering-rams from the stones and arrows of the soldiers above.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Large crossbows worked by machinery.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Fifteen days they besieged the castle of Auld Maitland, +but left him at the end of that time unhurt within his +stone stronghold.</span></p> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 62%" id="figure-147"> +<span id="the-siege-of-maitland-castle"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="*The Siege of Maitland Castle*" src="images/img-042.jpg" /> +<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> +<em class="italics">The Siege of Maitland Castle</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pnext"><span>They loaded fifteen ships with as much spoil as they +could carry away from the district around, and claimed +that now they had conquered Scotland with buckler, bow, +and brand. So they sailed away to France to meet the old +King Edward, who was burning every castle, tower, and +town that he met with. They came at last to the town +of Billop-Grace, where Auld Maitland's three sons were +at school.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Edward had quartered the arms of Scotland with +his own. "See'st thou what I see?" said the eldest +son to the youngest; "if that be true that yonder +standard says, then are we all three fatherless, and +Scotland conquered up and down. Never will we bow +to the conquerer. Let us go, my two brothers, and +try our chance in an adventure?" Thereupon they +saddled two black horses and a grey, and rode before +day-dawn to King Edward's army. Arrived there, +they hovered round, and Maitland begged to be allowed +to carry the king's standard, the Golden Dragon.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Where wast thou born and bred, and in what +country?" demanded the knight who bore the banner. +"I was born in the north of England," answered +Maitland; "my father was a knight and my mother a lady, +and I myself am a squire of high renown, and may well +carry the banner of a king." "Never had the son of an +Englishmen such an eye or brow," answered the knight; +"thou art more like Auld Maitland than any man I +have ever seen; yet God grant that such a gloomy +brow I never see again; he slew and wounded many +of our men."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>At the mention of his father's name Maitland's anger +burst out, and lifting up a gilded dagger that hung low +by his knee, he struck fiercely at the standard-bearer, +and, catching hold of the corner of the standard, rode +swiftly away with it, crying to his brothers, "Is it not +time to flee?" "Ay, by my sooth," they both shouted, +"we will bear you company." So they rode off at hot +speed, the pursuers following. The youngest Maitland, +turning round in the path, drew his brand and killed +fifteen of the foremost, and the rest fell back. Then he +dug his spurs into the sides of his faithful grey, until +both the sides ran blood. "Thou must carry me away, +or my life lies in pledge," he cried.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>About daybreak the brothers arrived at their uncle's +castle, who, seeing the three Scottish lads with pursuers +riding hard at their heels, ordered the portcullis to be +drawn up and the drawbridge let down, for that they +should lodge with him that night in spite of all England.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When the three came inside the gate, they leapt down +from their horses, and taking three long spears in their +hands, they fought till it was full daylight, killing and +wounding many of the Englishmen round the drawbridge. +Some of the dead were carted away in waggons, +and stones were heaped upon the rest as they lay in +the gutter.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>King Edward proclaimed at his pavilion door that +three lads of France, disguised, and with false words, +had come and stolen away the standard, and had slain +his men in their lawful attempt to regain it.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"It ill befits a crowned king to lie," said the youngest +Maitland, "and he shall be reproved for it before I +taste meat or drink."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Straightway he went before King Edward, and, +kneeling low, begged leave to speak a word with him. +"Man, thou shalt have leave to speak, even though +thou shouldst speak all day," answered the king.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Ye said," spoke the youngest Maitland, "that three +young lads of France had stolen away the standard with +a false tale, and slain many men. But we are not lads of +France, and never have pretended to be; we are three +lads of fair Scotland, and the sons of Auld Maitland, nor +are there men in all your host dare fight us three to three."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, by my sooth," said the young Edward, who +stood by, "Ye shall be well fitted, for Percy shall fight +with the eldest, and Egbert Lunn with thee, and William +of Lancaster with the other, and the surviving brother +shall fight with me. Remember, Percy, how oft the +Scot has cowered before thee; I will give thee a rig of +land for every drop of Maitland blood."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So they set to, and the eldest Maitland clanked +Percy over the head and wounded him so deeply that +the best blood of his body ran down his hair. "I have +slain one," shouted Maitland to his brothers; "slay +ye the other two, and that will be good company, and +if the two shall slay ye both, ye shall get no help from +me."[#]</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] According to the laws of chivalry, +having slain his own man, he +could, if he pleased, come to the assistance of the others.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>But Egbert Lunn was like a baited bear and had +seen many battles, and when Maitland saw that his +youngest brother was having the worst of it, he could +not restrain himself longer, and shouting, "I am no +king; my word shall not stand," he struck Egbert +over the head and slew him. "Now I have slain two; +slay ye one for good company," he cried; "neither +shall ye get any help from me even if the one shall +slay ye both." So the two brothers slew the third, +and hung him over the drawbridge for all the host +to see.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then they rode and ran, but still got not away, +but hovered round, boasting: "We be three lads of +fair Scotland that fain would see some fighting."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When young Edward heard this, he cried wrathfully, +"I'll take yon lad and bind him, and bring him bound +to thee."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Now God forbid that ever thou shouldst try that," +said the king; "we have lost three worthy leaders; +wouldst thou be the fourth? Never again would I be +happy if thou wert to hang on yonder drawbridge."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But Edward struck fiercely at Maitland, cleaving his +stout helmet and biting right near his brain. When +Maitland saw his own blood flowing he threw away his +weapon, and springing angrily at young Edward's +throat, he swung him thrice about and flung him on +the ground, holding him there though he was of great +strength.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Now let him up," cried King Edward, "let him +come to me, and for thy deed thou shalt have three +earldoms."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay," replied Maitland, "never shall it be said +in France or in Scotland that Edward once lay under +me and got up again," and with that he pierced him +through the heart and hung him over the drawbridge +with the other three.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Now take from me my bed of feathers," said the +king, "make me a bed of straw. Would that I had +not lived to see the day that makes my heart so sad."</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="the-mystery-of-the-eildons"><span class="bold large">Chapter VI</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Mystery of the Eildons</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Before their eyes the Wizard lay</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>As if he had not been dead a day.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>His hoary beard in silver roll'd,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He seemed some seventy winters old.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>High and majestic was his look,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>At which the fellest friends had shook,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And all unruffled was his face;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>They trusted his soul had gotten grace."</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>SCOTT: </span><em class="italics">Lay of the Last Minstrel.</em></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Just above Melrose, the ruined abbey of which +is one of the beauties of Scotland, there rises a +striking mass of three hills known as "the triple +Eildons." They rise very high above the surrounding +land, and are steep enough to need a very hard scramble +to mount to the very summit; but once at the top the +view is wonderful indeed. On a fine day the Tweed +can be seen winding in and out most picturesquely, +till it loses itself in the low distant haze of the North Sea, +thirty miles away. But even grander is the view of the +entire line of the Cheviots, like a huge wall, fifty miles +long, seen to immense advantage from Eildon, which +towers over the rich valleys of Tweed and Teviot that +lie between. One of the legends of the triple Eildons +is that King Arthur lies sleeping beneath them, some +day to awaken. Tradition says that he fought a great +battle near here, by Gala Water, in the Vale of Woe.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>However that may be, it is certain that at the foot of +Eildon lie many famous dead. In Melrose Abbey lies +the heart of Robert Bruce, and also the body of the +strong King Alexander II., he who first subdued and +made obedient the wild tribes of Argyle. Here, too, +is buried the brave Douglas who died so gallantly on the +field of Otterbourne; and also of another brave Douglas +who got his death wound at Poictiers.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Walter Scott, who did more than any other man +to spread all over the world the knowledge of Scotland, +Scottish history, Scottish romance, and Scottish character, +lies buried on the southern side of Eildon, in the rival +abbey of Dryburgh. But Melrose can claim a man who +in his day was an object of the deepest wonder and +terror—Michael Scott, the famous wizard of the +thirteenth century, he who brought the learning of +Aristotle to expound to Western Europe, he whom +Dante described as learned in every deep spell of the +magic arts. Perhaps he was only a scientist, born before +his time; yet even to-day old folk in the country +remember that it was he who is said to have cleft the +head of Eildon Hill into three!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>One of the many strange tales told of Michael Scott is +this:—</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>They say that the lord of Morpeth, in Northumberland, +promised the great wizard a rich reward if he +would only make the sea roll up the valley of the +pretty river Wansbeck till it reached Morpeth, so that +vessels could sail up to the town. The distance is +seven miles, and the wizard, declaring the matter a +most simple one, prepared his magic spell. He then +said that if a certain man would run from the sea to the +town, and on no account look back, whatever he heard, +the desire of the lord would be satisfied. The man no +sooner started to run than he heard the waters following +him. Faster and faster he went, and faster and faster +came the ocean, dashing and roaring, never overtaking +him, but always so near his heels as to fill him with +ever greater and greater terror.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Before he had finished the third mile he was in such +a state of alarm that he could not resist the impulse +to see what was happening. He turned round, and +the spell was broken; the waters had followed him +thus far, but would come no further. Even the best of +wizards will fail when his instructions are not obeyed.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So says the story. People are free to believe it or +not, as they please. It is certain that the sea runs +nearly three miles up the Wansbeck valley, and there +stops; but many people think that that is explained +by the natural rise of the land!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The story of how Michael Scott came to divide the +Eildon Hill into three runs as follows:—</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The wizard had one very active little demon, who was +always bothering his master to give him something to +do. First Michael commanded him to put a barrier +across the Tweed at Kelso, thinking to keep him quiet +for at least a week; it was done in a single night, and +again the demon demanded work. Then Michael set +him to divide Eildon into three; this also was done in a +night, and again the demon came clamouring for +employment. So in despair the wizard ordered him to +make ropes out of sea-sand! This, of course, is +impossible, as the sand will not hold together. But if you +go down to the shore on the south-east coast of Scotland +on a dark and stormy night, you can still hear what +sounds like the demon moaning and groaning over his +impossible task; and there is certainly a barrier across +the Tweed at Kelso, and the Eildon Hill is certainly +divided into three! So you may believe as much as +you please of this story.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Another tale that is told of the magic powers of this +famous man relates that he was once chosen to go as +ambassador from the King of Scotland to the King +of France on urgent business. Instead of going, as is +usual in such cases, with a number of followers, he +conjured up a demon shaped like a huge black horse, +and rode away over the sea. When half-way across +the North Sea the horse said to his rider:—</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"What do the old women of Scotland say at +bed-time?" Had the magician fallen into the trap and +named a prayer, the demon would have disappeared +and the wizard would have been drowned! But Michael +Scott merely commanded his steed to go on quickly +and not to talk. Very soon he came to Paris, tied his +horse to the gate of the French king's palace, and boldly +entered and stated his business. The French king +sneered at an ambassador who was not followed by a +train of knights, and began at once to refuse all he +asked. "Wait a moment, your Majesty," said Michael, +"till you have seen my horse stamp three times."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>At the first stamp the ground so shook that every +steeple in Paris rocked, making all the bells ring loudly; +at the second stamp the king heard behind him a loud +crash that made him leap three feet in the air; looking +round, he saw that three of the towers of his palace had +fallen; the horse raised his foot to stamp a third time, +but the king was so terrified that he shouted hastily +that he would grant all that Michael asked if only he +would keep his horse from stamping!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Whether this tale is true or not, Michael Scott was +certainly one of the ambassadors sent to bring back +the Maid of Norway to Scotland on the death of King +Alexander III. He wrote many learned books, and +possessed many others; and they say that when he +was buried at Melrose many of these same magic books +were buried with him.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>To this romantic district of the Eildons belonged True +Thomas, Thomas the Rhymer, or Thomas of Ercildoune, +as he was variously called, who was held in awe by +Border-folks as a prophet. The ruins of his tower are +still shown by the pretty river Leader, just about two +miles above the spot where it joins the Tweed. The +Rhymer seems to have died a few years before 1300; +but despite the passing of six centuries he is still +remembered. The story of how he gained his prophetic +powers is quite worth hearing, whether we believe it +or not.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The tale goes that Thomas was on Huntlie bank, near +the Eildon Hills, when he saw a wonderful lady approaching +him. She was dressed in grass-green silk, with a +mantle of fine velvet, and the noble horse on which +she rode had silver bells in its mane. Thomas was so +surprised at this remarkable sight that when the lady +came near he dropped on his knee and pulled off his cap, +and cried out, reverently, that she must be the Queen +of Heaven. But she answered that she was Queen of +fair Elfland, and dared him, with a witching glance, +to kiss her lips. The bold and gallant Thomas did not +need a second invitation, and promptly kissed the fairy, +when she seized upon him and fled away with him swifter +than the wind.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Soon all living land was left behind, and they came to +a wild place where three roads met. One was a narrow +path, beset with thorns and briers; and this the fairy +said was the road of righteousness, which very few +people ever troubled to find. Another was a broad and +attractive road, which was the way of sinners; whilst +the third, a pretty winding road, led to Elfland, and +thither they went together.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Soon there was neither sun nor moon to lighten the +way, and Thomas and his companion waded through +rivers above the knee. The sea moaned and roared +in the dread darkness, and Thomas somehow found that +they waded oft through streams of red blood—blood that +had been shed on earth. Then they came to a beautiful +garden, and the Elfland queen gave Thomas an apple +to eat, saying:—</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Take this for thy wages, true Thomas; it will +give thee the tongue that can never lie." Poor Thomas +turned pale at the thought of such a gift. "Let my +tongue be my own!" he pleaded; "how shall I buy +or sell in any market, flatter a prince, or compliment +a lady, if you give me such a tongue!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But the Elfland queen would take no denial, and +Thomas had to do her behest, wherefore for the rest of +his life Thomas carried with him this gift of truthfulness.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="black-agnes-of-dunbar"><span class="bold large">Chapter VII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Black Agnes of Dunbar</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The fortress of Dunbar was always a very +important one to the Scots. It commanded the +coast road from England across the Border to +Edinburgh, not only one of the best routes in itself, +but one which had the additional advantage to the +English that by following it they could keep in touch +with their ships. So it is not surprising that many +stirring events in history took place at this historic +town.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>King Edward I. of England won a very important +victory at Dunbar during his first invasion of Scotland, +and to the place which had witnessed the triumph of the +father, his son, Edward II., fled for safety after his +defeat at Bannockburn, taking ship thence back to +England. In the time of Mary Queen of Scots the +fortress was held by Earl Bothwell; from here he +consented to the surrender of poor Mary, and here he +rested in safety before his final flight to Scandinavia. +Oliver Cromwell fought and won at Dunbar his desperate +battle with the Scottish Presbyterians, the fate of which +for some time hung in the balance. Cromwell +considered the place so valuable that he had new harbour +works made there, and a portion of his work, forming +part of the east pier of the present much larger harbour, +is still to be seen.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The last time that Dunbar resounded to the march +of an army bent on immediate fight was in 1745, when +the boastful English general, Sir John Cope, landed +here to engage the Highland followers of Prince Charles +Edward (called the "Young Pretender"). Prince +Charlie was at Edinburgh, and Dunbar Castle +commanded the road into England. Cope asserted that the +Highlanders would run away at the mere sight of his +army. He marched westward, but was surprised in the +early morning by his enemies when near Prestonpans. +In less than ten minutes it was the unprepared English +who were flying in disorder, utterly routed.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The foregoing is but a brief outline of the stormy +history of those grey and ruined battlements +overlooking the bleak North Sea at the southernmost point +of entrance to the noble Firth of Forth. The mention +of these stirring incidents, however, will serve to show +what a very important place Dunbar was, and that it +was necessary to Scottish safety that a strong hand +should have charge of its fortress. We are now to see +how at one of the most critical hours a woman was to +hold command, and to hold it worthily.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Early in the reign of King Edward III. of England +Scottish affairs were in some confusion. King Robert +Bruce had lately died, leaving a son, King David II., +then only five years old. That great leader and friend +of Bruce, Randolph, Earl of Moray, was appointed +Guardian of Scotland, but he too soon died. Edward +III., anxious to interfere in Scottish affairs, agreed +to help Edward Balliol to make himself king of the +Scots. So an English army was again in Scotland, and +one of the places they were keenest to take was the +fortress of Dunbar.</span></p> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 64%" id="figure-148"> +<span id="black-agnes"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="*Black Agnes*" src="images/img-054.jpg" /> +<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> +<em class="italics">Black Agnes</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pnext"><span>The castle was a very strong one. It was built on a +chain of great rocks that stretched out to sea, and could +only be reached from land by one road, which was, of +course, strictly guarded. The lord of the castle was the +Earl of March (the word March in those days meant a +border-land), but he was away with the Scottish army, +and his wife was in charge of the castle. She was the +daughter of that brave Earl of Moray, Guardian of +Scotland, who has just been mentioned. The English +army was led by an experienced general, the Earl of +Salisbury, and he probably thought that he would not +have much trouble in overcoming "Black Agnes," +as the dark-haired countess was called.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>He soon discovered that she was of heroic mould, +however, for though he himself led the storming-parties, +she on her side, urging on her men in person, hurled back +his every attack. The Lady Agnes was quite fearless, +and treated the siege as if it were a pastime to be enjoyed. +When the English, with machines made for the purpose, +hurled heavy stones against the walls, Black Agnes +would call one of her maidens with a napkin to wipe off +the dust that they made! The biggest of all the English +war-machines was called a sow, and when it was brought +to the walls the countess cried out in rough jest that it +was surrounded by little pigs. At the same moment +a mass of rock, which she had caused to be loosened, +was hurled by her men on to the English, crushing their +sow and many soldiers with it.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>At last there seemed a chance for the English. Near +midnight a Scot came into their camp, saying that he +was ready to betray the castle for a reward. The Earl +of Salisbury and some chosen knights rode carefully +forward, and found the gate open and the portcullis +raised, as the man had promised. But for all that, they +doubted if Black Agnes could so far relax her vigilance; +wherefore instead of the earl entering first, he sent +forward a retainer. His caution was soon justified, +for no sooner had this man passed the gate than the +portcullis fell. It was a trick to capture the earl, +but the Scots were disappointed this time.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The gallant English lord was loud in admiration of +the brave Scottish lady who was thus defying him. +Once when examining the defences with a lieutenant, +an arrow struck his companion dead. "The countess's +love-arrows pierce to the heart," said Salisbury, on his +return to the camp. Despite the courtly manner in +which the well-bred baron referred to the lady, however, +he did not relax his efforts to overcome her.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Salisbury's land forces had now surrounded the +castle on the land side, while his ships at sea completed +the blockade. The garrison was threatened with +starvation. Greater and greater became the privations +of the heroic defenders. The countess, no less brave +than ever, hoped on, though ground for hope grew less +and less. She could not bring herself to think of defeat, +and her brave, bright face still gave courage and +inspiration to all.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Meantime the story of the struggle and difficulties of +the defenders was raising up helpers, and Sir Alexander +Ramsay of Dalhousie got ready a light vessel filled with +provisions and manned by forty brave Scots, who only +waited for a dark night to make the attempt to steal +past the English fleet. They lay hidden by the Bass +Rock, a lofty islet at the mouth of the Firth of Forth, +some seven or eight miles from Dunbar, until one +starless night they stole very cautiously down the wild +coast-line of Haddingtonshire, sometimes all but bumping +into an English vessel in the dark. Fortune favours the +brave, and despite dangers and difficulties they got +safely at last to the castle, whose distant light had been +their guide. Be sure Black Agnes welcomed them! +This proved to be the turning-point of the long siege. +With fresh hope, the garrison made a sudden sally on the +English, driving back their advance guard, and after +five months of fierce but fruitless attempts, Salisbury +was compelled to withdraw his forces and admit defeat. +Nevertheless, the English were gallant enough to sing +their praises of this Scottish heroine; their minstrels +made songs in her honour, in one of which Salisbury +is made to say:—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Came I early, came I late,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I found Black Agnes at the gate."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="the-young-tamlane"><span class="bold large">Chapter VIII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Young Tamlane</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"He's ta'en her by the milk-white hand,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Among the leaves so green."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>This tale belongs to the romantic side of the +Border minstrelsy, and illustrates some of the +common superstitions of olden times concerning +elves and fairies. The scene is laid in the Selkirk +or Ettrick Forest, a mountainous tract covered with +the remains of the old Caledonian Forest. About a +mile above Selkirk is a plain called Carterhaugh, and +here may still be seen those fairy rings of which it was +believed that anyone sleeping upon one will wake in a +fairy city. And here was, and perhaps still is, an ancient +well. The ballad opens by telling how all young maids +were forbidden to come or go by way of Carterhaugh, +"for young Tamlane (or Thomalin) is there," and +every one going by Carterhaugh is obliged to leave him +something in pledge. But the Lady Janet, the fairest +of the Selkirk lasses, was obstinate, and declared that +she would come or go to Carterhaugh, as she pleased, +"and ask no leave of him," since the land there belonged +to her by hereditary right. She kilted her green mantle +above her knee, and braided her yellow hair above her +brow, and off she went to Carterhaugh. When she got +to the well, she found the steed of the elfin knight +Tamlane standing there, but he himself was away.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"She hadna pu'd a red, red rose,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>A rose but barely three;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Till up and starts a wee, wee man</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>At Lady Janet's knee.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Says—'Why pu' ye the rose, Janet?</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>What gars (makes) ye break the tree?</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Or why come ye to Carterhaugh,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Withouten leave of me?'</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Says—'Carterhaugh it is mine ain;</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>My daddy gave it me:</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>I'll come and gang to Carterhaugh,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And ask nae leave o' thee.'"</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>But Tamlane took her by the hand and worked upon +her his spells, which no maiden might resist, however +proud she might be.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When she came back to her father's hall, she looked +pale and wan; and it seemed that she had some sore +sickness. She ceased to take any pleasure in combing +her yellow hair, and everything she ate seemed like to +be her death. When her ladies played at ball, she, once +the strongest player, was now the faintest. One day +her father spoke out, and said he, "Full well I know that +you must have some lover." She said:—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"'If my love were an earthly knight,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>As he's an elfin grey,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>I wouldna give my own true love</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For no lord that ye hae.'"</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Then she prinked herself, and preened herself, all by the +light of the moon alone, and went away to Carterhaugh, +to speak with Tamlane. When she got to the well, she +found the steed standing, but Tamlane was away. She +had barely pulled a double rose, when up started the elf.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Why pull ye the rose, Janet?" says he; "why +pull ye the rose within this garden green?" "The truth +ye'll tell me, Tamlane; were ye ever in holy chapel, or +received into the Christian Church?" "The truth I'll +tell thee, Janet; a knight was my father, and a lady +was my mother, like your own parents. Randolph, +Earl Moray, was my sire; Dunbar, Earl March, is thine. +We loved when we were children, which yet you may +remember. When I was a boy just turned nine, my +uncle sent for me to hunt, and hawk, and ride with him, +and keep him company. There came a wind out of the +north, a deep sleep came over me, and I fell from my +horse. The queen of the fairies took me off to yon +green hill, and now I'm a fairy, lithe and limber. In +Fairyland we know neither sickness nor pain. We +quit our body, or repair unto them, when we please. +We can inhabit, earth, or air, as we will. Our shapes and +size we can convert to either large or small. We sleep +in rose-buds, revel in the stream, wanton lightly on the +wind, or glide on a sunbeam. I would never tire, Janet, +to dwell in Elfland, were it not that every seven years +a tithe is paid to hell, and I am so fair of flesh, I fear +'twill be myself. If you dare to win your true love, +you have no time to lose. To-night is Hallowe'en, and +the fairy folk ride. If you would win your true love, +bide at Miles Cross." Miles Cross is about half a mile +from Carterhaugh, and Janet asked how she should know +Tamlane among so many unearthly knights. "The +first company that passes by, let them go. The next +company that passes by, let them go. The third +company that passes by, I'll be one of those. First +let pass the black steed, Janet, then let pass the +brown; but grip the milk-white steed, and pull down +the rider—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"For I ride on the milk-white steed,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And aye nearest the town;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Because I was a christened knight,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>They gave me that renown."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Tamlane went on to explain that his fairy comrades +would make every effort to disgust her with her captive. +They would turn him in her very arms into an adder; +they would change him into a burning faggot, into a +red-hot iron goad, but she must hold him fast. In order +to remove the enchantment, she must dip him in a +churn of milk, and then in a barrel of water. She must +still persevere, for they would shape him in her arms +into a badger, eel, dove, swan, and, last of all, into a +naked man, but</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Cast your green mantle over me,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>I'll be myself again."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>So fair Janet in her green mantle went that gloomy +night to Miles Cross. The heavens were black, the +place was inexpressibly dreary, a north wind raged; +but there she stood, eagerly wishing to embrace her +lover. Between the hours of twelve and one she heard +strange eldrich sounds and the ringing of elfin bridles, +which gladdened her heart. The oaten pipes of the +faires grew shrill, the hemlock blew clear. The fairies +cannot bear solemn sounds or sober thoughts; they +sing like skylarks, inspired by love and joy. Fair Janet +stood upon the dreary heath, and the sounds waxed +louder as the fairy train came riding on. Will o' the +Wisp shone out as a twinkling light before them, and +soon she saw the fairy bands passing. She let the black +steed go by, and then the brown. But she gripped fast +the milk-white steed, and pulled down the rider. Then +up rose an eldrich cry, "He's won among us all!" As +Janet grasped him in her arms the fairies changed +him into a newt, an adder, and many other fantastic +and terrifying shapes. She held him fast in every +shape. They turned him at last into a naked man in +her arms, but she wrapped him in her green mantle. +At last her stedfast courage was rewarded, she redeemed +the fairies' captive, and by so doing won his true love! +Then up spoke the Queen of Fairies, "She that has +borrowed young Tamlane has got a stately groom! +She's taken the bonniest knight in all my company! +But had I known, Tamlane," said the fairy queen, +"had I known that a lady would borrow thee, I would +have taken out thy two grey eyes, and put in wooden +eyes. I would have taken out thy heart of flesh, Tamlane, +and put in a heart of stone. I would have paid my +tithe seven times to hell ere I would have let her win +you away."</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="the-gay-goss-hawk"><span class="bold large">Chapter IX</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Gay Goss-Hawk</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>In the opening lines of this old ballad Lord William +is talking to the goss-hawk, who tells his master +that he is looking pale and thin, and seeks to know +che cause.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"O waly, waly, my gay goss-hawk,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Gin your feathering be sheen!"</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>"And waly, waly, my master dear,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Gin ye look pale and lean!</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>O have ye tint[#] at tournament</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Your sword, or yet your spear?</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Or mourn ye for the Southern lass,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Whom ye may not win near?"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] lost</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"I have not tint at tournament</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>My sword, nor yet my spear;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>But sair[#] I mourn for my true love,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Wi' mony a bitter tear.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] sore</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>But weel's me on ye, my gay goss-hawk,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Ye can baith speak and flee;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Ye sall carry a letter to my love,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Bring an answer back to me."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"But how sall I your true love find,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Or how suld I her know?</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>I bear a tongue ne'er wi' her spake,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>An eye that ne'er her saw."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"O weel sall ye my true love ken,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Sae sune[#] as ye her see;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>For, of a' the flowers of fair England,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The fairest flower is she.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] soon.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>The red that's on my true love's cheek</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Is like blood-drops on the snaw;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>The white that is on her breast bare,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Like the down o' the white sea-maw.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And even at my love's bour-door</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>There grows a flowering birk;[#]</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And ye maun sit and sing thereon</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>As she gangs to the kirk.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] birch.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And four-and-twenty fair ladyes</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Will to the Mass repair;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>But weel may ye my ladye ken,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The fairest ladye there."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Lord William has written a love-letter,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Put it under his pinion grey;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>An' he is awa' to Southern land</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>As fast as wings can gae.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And even at the ladye's bour[#]</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>There grew a flowering birk;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And he sat down and sung thereon</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>As she gaed to the kirk.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] bower.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And weel he kent that ladye fair</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Amang her maidens free,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>For the flower that springs in May morning</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Was not sae sweet as she.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>He lighted at the ladye's yate[#]</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And sat him on a pin,[#]</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And sang fu' sweet the notes o' love,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Till a' was cosh[#] within.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] gate. +<br />[#] pine. +<br />[#] quiet.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And first he sang a low low note,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And syne[#] he sang a clear;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And aye the o'erword[#] o' the sang</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Was—"Your love can no win here."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] then. +<br />[#] refrain.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Feast on, feast on, my maidens a',</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The wine flows you amang,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>While I gang to my shot-window</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And hear yon bonnie bird's sang.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Sing on, sing on, my bonny bird,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The sang ye sung yestreen,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>For weel I ken, by your sweet singing</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Ye are frae my true love sen."[#]</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] sent.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>O first he sang a merry song,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And syne he sang a grave;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And syne he picked his feathers grey,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>To her the letter gave.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Have there a letter from Lord William;</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>He says he's sent ye three;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>He canna wait your love langer,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>But for your sake he'll die."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Gae bid him bake his bridal bread,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And brew his bridal ale;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And I shall meet him in Mary's Kirk,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Lang, lang ere it be stale."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>The lady's gane to her chamber,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And a moanfu' woman was she;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>As gin[#] she had taken a sudden brash[#]</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And were about to die.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] if +<br />[#] illness.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"A boon, a boon, my father dear,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>A boon I beg of thee!"</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>"Ask not that haughty Scottish lord,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For him ye ne'er shall see.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>But for your honest asking else,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Weel granted it shall be."</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>"Then, gin I die in Southern land,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>In Scotland gar[#] bury me.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] cause</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And the first kirk that ye come to,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Ye's gar the mass be sung;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And the next kirk that ye come to</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Ye's gar the bells be rung.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And when ye come to St Mary's Kirk,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Ye's tarry there till night."</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And so her father pledged his word,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And so his promise plight.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>She has ta'en her to her bigly bower</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>As fast as she could fare;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And she has drank a sleepy draught,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>That she had mixed wi' care.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And pale, pale grew her rosy cheek,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>That was sae bright of blee,[#]</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And she seemed to be as surely dead</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>As any one could be.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] bloom.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Then spake her cruel step-minnie,[#]</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>"Tak ye the burning lead,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And drap a drap on her bosome,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>To try if she be dead."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] mother.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>They took a drap o' boiling lead,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>They drapped it on her breast;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>"Alas! alas!" her father cried,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>"She's dead without the priest."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>She neither chattered with her teeth,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Nor shivered with her chin;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>"Alas! alas!" her father cried,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>"There is nae breath within."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Then up arose her seven brethren,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And hewed to her a bier;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>They hewed it frae the solid aik,[#]</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Laid it o'er wi' silver clear.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] oak.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Then up and gat her seven sisters,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And sewed to her a kell,[#]</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And every steek[#] that they put in</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Sewed to a siller bell.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] shroud. +<br />[#] stitch.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>The first Scots kirk that they cam to,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>They garred the bells be rung;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>The next Scots kirk that they cam to,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>They garred fhe mass be sung.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>But when they cam to St Mary's Kirk,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>There stude spearmen all on a row;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And up and started Lord William,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The chieftaine amang them a'.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Set down, set down the bier," he said,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>"Let me look her upon;"</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>But as soon as Lord William touched her hand,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Her colour began to come.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>She brightened like the lily flower,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Till her pale colour was gone;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>With rosy cheek, and ruby lip,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>She smiled her love upon.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"A morsel of your bread, my lord,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And one glass of your wine;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>For I have fasted these three lang days,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>All for your sake and mine.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Gae hame, gae hame, my seven bauld brothers,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Gae hame and blaw your horn!</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>I trow[#] ye wad hae gi'en me the skaith,[#]</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>But I've gi'en you the scorn.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] reckon. +<br />[#] harm.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Commend me to my grey father,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>That wished my soul gude rest;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>But wae be to my cruel step-dame,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Garred burn me on the breast."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Ah! woe to you, you light woman!</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And ill death may ye die!</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>For we left father and sisters at hame,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Breaking their hearts for thee."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="the-corbies"><span class="bold large">Chapter X</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Corbies</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Two ancient songs have come down to us in which +the principal speakers are supposed to be +Corbies, carrion-crows or ravens, birds which +feed on the flesh of the dead. In both songs the birds +discuss a dead knight upon whose rich body they wish +to feed. But deep interest lies in the fact that the two +song-writers present entirely different views of the case. +One appeals to our feelings with a beautiful and touching +picture of devotion, the knight's companions proving +true to him in death. The other is far more grim, and +causes us to shudder at the utter loneliness of the dead +man, deserted by all those who in life were beholden to +his friendship. Both are powerful and striking examples +of ancient vigour and directness.</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">THE TWA CORBIES</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>As I was walking all alane,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I heard twa corbies making a mane;[#]</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The tane unto the t'other say,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"Where sall we gang and dine to-day?"—</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] moan.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"In behint yon auld fail dyke,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I wot there lies a new-slain knight;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And naebody kens that he lies there,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>His hound is to the hunting gane,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>His hawk, to fetch the wild-fowl hame,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>His lady's ta'en another mate,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Sa we may mak our dinner sweet.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,[#]</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And I'll pick out his bonny blue een:</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>We'll theek[#] our nest when it grows bare.[#]</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] neck. +<br />[#] thatch. +<br />[#] Variant reading—"We'll theek our nest—it's a' blawn hare."</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Mony a one for him makes mane,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>But nane sall ken where he is gane;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>O'er his white banes, when they are bare,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The wind sall blaw for evermair."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 64%" id="figure-149"> +<span id="the-twa-corbies"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="The Twa Corbies" src="images/img-070.jpg" /> +<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> +<span class="italics">The Twa Corbies</span></div> +</div> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">THE THREE RAVENS</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>There were three ravens sat on a tre,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>They were as black as they might be:</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>The one of them said to his mate,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"Where shall we our breakfast take?"—</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Downe in yonder greene field,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>There lies a knight slain under his shield;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"His hounds they lie downe at his feete,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>So well they their master keepe;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"His hawkes they flie so eagerlie,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>There's no fowle dare come him nie.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Down there comes a fallow doe,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>As great with yong as she might goe.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"She lift up his bloudy hed,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And kist his wounds that were so red.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"She got him up upon her backe,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And carried him to earthen lake.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"She buried him before the prime,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>She was dead her selfe ere even song time.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"God send every gentleman,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Such hawkes, such houndes, and such a leman."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="otterbourne-and-chevy-chase"><span class="bold large">Chapter XI</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Otterbourne and Chevy Chase</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"It fell about the Lammas-tide,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>When moor-men win their hay,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The doughty Douglas bound him to ride</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Into England, to drive a prey."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The ballads of </span><em class="italics">Otterbourne</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Chevy Chase</em><span> +record the Scottish and English versions of a +most stubborn Border battle. Whichever of the +two contains the greater amount of truth, it is clear that +the day was a bloody one, and that, moreover, it was +fought on both sides with a chivalrous admiration for +the powers of the other which is characteristic of those +strife-loving days. Sir Philip Sidney wrote of it: "I +never heard the old song of Percy and Douglas, that I +found not my heart moved more than with a trumpet."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The ballad of </span><em class="italics">Chevy Chase</em><span> is of later date than its +rival, and it contains certainly one misstatement of +historical fact, since Hotspur outlived the fight at Chevy +Chase (1388) and was slain some fifteen years later at the +battle of Shrewsbury (1403).</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The Scottish version of the battle of Otterbourne tells +us that it was about the Lammas-tide or haymaking time +of the year 1388 when the brave Earl of Douglas, with his +brother, the Earl of Murray, made a foray into England, +with a gay band of Gordons, Graemes, and Lindsays. He +burned Tynedale and half of Bamborough and Otterdale, +and marching up to Newcastle, rode round about the +castle, crying, "Who is lord of this castle, and who is +its lady?"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then up spake proud Lord Percy, known as </span><em class="italics">Hotspur</em><span>, +and said, "I am the lord of this castle, and my wife is the +gay lady of it."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"That pleases me well," answered Douglas, "yet, ere I +cross the Border hills, one of us shall die."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then Percy took his long spear, shod with metal, and +rode right furiously at the Douglas; but his lady, looking +from the castle wall, grew pale as she saw her proud +lord go down before the Scottish spear.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Had we two been alone, with never an eye to see, I +would have slain thee, but thy lance I will carry with +me," said Douglas, and, to complete the disgrace, this +lance bore attached to it the Percy pennon.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Go then to Otterbourne," said Percy, "and wait +there for me, and if I come not before the end of three +days, call me a false knight."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Otterbourne is a pleasant and a bonny place," +answered Douglas; "but though the deer run wild among +the hills and dales, and the birds fly wild from tree to +tree, yet is there neither bread nor kale nor aught else to +feed me and my men. Yet will I wait thee at Otterbourne +to give thee welcome, and if thou come not in +three days' time, false lord, will I call thee!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"By the might of Our Lady, I will come," cried the +proud Percy. "And I," answered Douglas, "plight thee +my troth that I will meet thee there."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So Douglas and his men encamped at Otterbourne, +and sent out their horses to pasture.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But before the peep of dawn, up spake a little page: +"Waken ye, waken ye, my good lord; the Percy is upon +us!" "Ye lie, ye lie," shouted Douglas; "yesterday, +Percy had not men enough to fight us. But if thou lie +not, the finest bower in Otterbourne shall be thy reward, +and if what thou sayest prove false, thou shalt be hanged +on the highest tree in Otterbourne. Yet I have dreamed +a dreary dream; I dreamed that a dead man won a battle +and that I was that dead man."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So Douglas belted on his good broadsword, and ran to +the field, but forgot his helmet, and Percy and the Douglas +fought with their swords together till the blood ran down +like rain, and the Douglas fell, wounded on the brow.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then he called to him his little foot-page and told him +to run quickly and bring to him his sister's son, Sir Hugh +Montgomery.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"My good nephew," said Douglas, "the death of one +matters not; last night I dreamed a dreary dream, but +yet I know the day is thine. My wound is deep; take +thou the vanguard; bury me in the bracken high that +grows on yonder lea, and let no man living know that a +Scot lies there. And know that I am glad to die in battle, +like my good forefathers, and not on a bed of sickness."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Montgomery lifted up his noble lord, while his eyes +wept salt tears, and hid him in the bracken bush that his +followers might not see, and before daylight the Scots +slew many a gallant Englishman. The good Gordons +steeped hose and shoes in the blood of the English; the +Lindsays flew about like fire till the battle was ended, and +Percy and Montgomery fought till the blood ran down +between them.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, yield thee, yield thee, Percy," cried Sir Hugh, +"or I vow I will lay thee low!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Since it must be so," quoth Earl Percy, "to whom +shall I yield?"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Thou shalt not yield to me or to any lord, but to the +bracken bush that grows on yonder lea!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"I will not yield to briar or bracken bush, but I would +yield to Lord Douglas or to Sir Hugh Montgomery, if he +were here."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then Montgomery made himself known, and as soon +as Percy knew that it was Montgomery, he struck the +point of his sword into the ground, and Montgomery, who +was a courteous knight, took him up by the hand.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>This deed was done at Otterbourne at daybreak, where +Earl Douglas was buried by the bracken bush, and +Percy led captive into Scotland, and it is said that +Hotspur, for his ransom, built for Montgomery the castle of +Penoon, in Ayrshire.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But the English version of these stirring events can +also claim to be heard; the ballad upon it is called </span><em class="italics">Chevy +Chase</em><span>, which means the Chase on the Cheviots; and so +popular was this ballad that its name was given to a boys' +game, which is so called even to this day. It tells how +the Percy, from his castle in Northumberland, vowed that +within three days he would hunt on the mountains of +Cheviot in spite of the doughty Douglas and his men, and +that he would kill and carry away the fattest deer in +Cheviot.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"By my faith," said Douglas, when he heard of the +boast, "but I will hinder his hunting."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Percy left Bamborough Castle with a mighty company, +no less than fifteen hundred bold archers chosen out of +three shires.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The foray began on a Monday morning in the high +Cheviot Hills, and many a child yet unborn was to rue the +day.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The drivers went through the woods and raised the deer, +and the bowmen shot them with their broad arrows. Then +the wild deer rushed through the woods, only to be met +and killed by the greyhounds, and before noontide a +hundred fat deer lay dead. The bugles sounded, "A +mort!" and on all sides Percy and his men assembled +to see the cutting up of the venison.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Said Percy: "The Douglas promised to meet me +here this day, yet right well did I know that he would +fail." But a Northumberland squire saw the doughty +Douglas coming with a mighty company, with spear +and batter-axe and sword. Never were men hardier of +heart and hand seen in Christendom—two thousand +spearmen born along the banks of the Tweed and Teviotdale. +Then said Lord Percy: "Now leave off the cutting of the +deer, and take good heed to your bows, for never had ye +more need of them since ye were born."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Earl Douglas rode before his men, his armour glittering +like a burning coal, and never was such a bold baron. +"Tell me whose men ye are," said he, "and who gave ye +leave to hunt in Cheviot without word asked of me?"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then answered Lord Percy, "We will not tell thee +whose men we are, and we will hunt here in spite of thee. +We have killed the fattest harts in Cheviot and will +carry them away."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"By my troth," said Douglas, "one of us shall die this +day. Yet it were great pity to kill all these guiltless +men. Thou, Percy, art a lord of land, and I am called +an earl in my country; let our men stand by, and we will +fight together."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Now a curse on his crown, who says nay to that," +cried Lord Percy. "By my troth, Douglas, thou shalt +never see the day either in England, Scotland, or France, +when I fear to meet one, man to man."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then spoke Richard Witherington, a squire of Northumberland. +"Never shall this be told in England, to the +shame of good King Harry the Fourth. I wot ye be two +great lords, and I but a poor squire, yet would I never +stand and look on while my captain fought. While I +can wield a weapon, I will not fail, both heart and +hand."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So the English with good heart bent their bows, and +slew seven score spearmen with the first arrows they shot.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Earl Douglas stayed on the field, but that he was a +good captain was truly seen, for he wrought great woe +and mischief. He parted his host in three like a proud +chieftain, and they came in on every side with their +mighty spears, wounding the English archers and slaying +many a brave man.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then the English pulled out their brands, and it was a +heavy sight to see the bright swords light on the helmets, +striking through the rich mail, and the cloth of many folds +under it, and laying many low.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>At last the Douglas and the Percy met and fought with +swords of Milan steel till the blood spurted like rain and +hail from their helmets.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Hold thee, Percy," said Douglas, "and I will bring +thee to James, our Scottish king, where thou shalt have an +earl's wages and free ransom, for thou art the manfullest +man that ever yet I conquered fighting in the field."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, then," said Lord Percy. "I told thee before +that never would I yield to any man of woman born."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>With that there came an arrow hastily from a mighty +man, and struck Earl Douglas through the breast bone, +and never more did he speak a word but only this: +"Fight, my merry men, while ye may—my life's days are +done."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then Percy leaned on his hand, and when he saw the +Douglas die, he said, "Woe is me. I would have parted +with my land for three years to have saved thy life, for a +better man of heart and hand was not in all the north +country."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But Sir Hugh Montgomery, a Scottish knight, when +he saw the Douglas done to death, grasped a spear and +rode through a hundred archers, never slackening his +pace till he came to Lord Percy, whom he set upon, +sending his mighty spear clean through his body, so that +a man might see a long cloth-yard and more at the other +side. There were no two better captains in Christendom +than were that day slain.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When one of the Northumberland archers saw this, +he drew an arrow to his bow and set upon Montgomery, +until the swan feathers of his arrows were wet with his +heart's blood.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Not one man gave way, but still they stood hewing at +each other, while they were able.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>This battle began in Cheviot, an hour before noon, nor +was it half done at evensong, but they fought on by +moonlight though many had scarce the strength to stand. +Of fifteen hundred English archers only fifty-three +remained, and of two thousand Scottish spearmen only +fifty-five remained, all the rest being slain in Cheviot.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>With Lord Percy were slain, Sir John of Agerstone, +Sir Roger the gentle Hartly, Sir William the bold Heron, +Sir George the worthy Lovel, a renowned knight, and Sir +Ralph the rich Rugby. Woe was it that Witherington +was slain, for when both his legs were hewn in two he +kneeled and fought on his knees.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>With the brave Douglas were slain Sir Hugh Montgomery, +and worthy Sir Davy Liddle, that was his sister's +son; Sir Charles, a Murray who refused to flee, and Sir +Hugh Maxwell. On the morrow they made biers of birch +and grey hazel, and many widows bore weeping from the +field the bodies of their dead husbands. Well may +Teviotdale and Northumberland wail and moan for two +such great captains.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Word came to James the Scottish king at Edinburgh, +that the brave Douglas, Lieutenant of the Marches, lay +slain in Cheviot, and he wept and wrung his hands, and +said, "Alas! Woe is me; there will never be such another +captain in Scotland."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Word came also to London, to Harry the Fourth, that +Lord Percy, Lieutenant of the Marches, lay slain in +Cheviot. "God have mercy on his soul," said King +Harry; "I have a hundred captains in England as good +as he, yet I wager my life that his death shall be well +avenged"; and this vow he kept, at the Battle of +Homildon Hill, where he beat down six and thirty Scottish +knights on one day.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But so real to the Borderers was their grief over their +dead that the ballad ends with a quaint but heartfelt +appeal to the Prince of Peace:—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Jesus Christ our ills abate,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And to His bliss us bring!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Thus was the hunting of the Cheviot;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>God send us all good ending!"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="the-douglas-clan"><span class="bold large">Chapter XII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Douglas Clan</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The Douglas clan was at one time the strongest +of all the great Scotch families on the Border; +they were wild and proud and recklessly brave, +and no account of the Borders would be complete +without the broad details of their tragic history.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The first to raise the fame of the family to the highest +place in honour was the brave Sir James Douglas, the +friend of Bruce, and, after Bruce himself, the greatest +hero among the Scots of that stormy period. He was a +powerful, black-haired man with a dark complexion, and +was called by the English "The Black Douglas." So +great was the terror of his name that English mothers +on the Border, when their children were naughty, would +tell them that the Black Douglas would get them, or if +they were fretful they would comfort them with the +assurance—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Hush ye, hush ye, little pet ye,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Hush ye, hush ye, do not fret ye,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The Black Douglas shall not get ye."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Sir Walter Scott relates how, when the garrison of +Roxburgh Castle were making merry at Shrovetide, the +castle was surprised by the Douglas, who mounted to +the ramparts where a woman was crooning the refrain +to her babe. "You are not so sure of that," he said, +laying his hand upon her shoulder. It is pleasant to +read that on this occasion the Black Douglas did not +turn out so black as he was painted, and beyond her +fright the woman came to no harm at the hands of Sir +James and his followers.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>At one time the English had seized the Douglas +castle in Lanarkshire, and Sir James and his men +disguised themselves and came to church on Palm +Sunday, when the English soldiers were worshipping there. +Suddenly in the midst of the service Douglas dropped his +cloak and drew his sword and shouted: "A Douglas! a +Douglas!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The English soldiers were taken by surprise, and were +killed before they could recover themselves. This deed +brought Douglas great fame, but after all it was hardly a +fair fight.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In 1327, when Edward III. was only fifteen years old, +Douglas led a raid into Northumberland and Durham +which did the English much damage. Edward came +after them with an English army, and the Scots, being +outnumbered, were compelled to dodge up and down +in order to avoid a pitched battle. But in one bold +night attack, Douglas and five hundred of the Scots +penetrated to the king's tent, and almost succeeded in +taking him prisoner. Failing in this, they returned +unharmed to their own country, and shortly afterwards, +at the Treaty of Northampton in 1328, King Edward +III. agreed to acknowledge Robert Bruce as King of Scotland, +and the long war between Scotland and England ended.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>A year later Bruce died, but after a romantic custom of +that day he bequeathed his heart to his gallant friend, +Sir James Douglas. Douglas had this heart enclosed in +a silver casket and carried it hung about his neck. The +war with England being over, this restless knight sought +adventures in Spain, fighting against the Saracen +followers of Mahomet. In one fierce battle, he and his +men were surrounded by their enemies. Douglas, +probably realising that this was his last fight, took the +casket and flung it into the midst of his foes, crying: +"Go first in fight, as thou wert used to do; Douglas will +follow thee or die!" He then rushed desperately after +it, fighting his way on till at last his dead body fell on +this dearly prized relic, which he guarded to the end. +The casket lies buried in the Abbey of Melrose, but +Douglas's body was laid in his own church.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Of the bold Earl Douglas who fought and died at +Otterbourne the tale is told in our last chapter. We +may pass on to another famous Douglas, this time a +heroine, who lived in the reign of James I. of Scotland +(quite a different king from James I. of England). +When James was only twelve years old, he was taken +prisoner by Henry IV. of England, and kept captive till +he was thirty. But he was given an education fit for a +king, and in England he met the lady he devotedly +loved, Lady Joan Beaufort, daughter of the Earl of +Somerset. He addressed a beautiful poem to her and +married her, and these two always most dearly loved one +another. When at last his long captivity came to an +end, he got back to Scotland to find the kingdom in +disorder, and the nobles defying the law and acting as they +pleased. James, a strong and able king, set his strength +against their strength, and gradually got his whole +kingdom into order and ruled with wisdom and justice.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But in these days it was impossible to be firm without +sternness, and James made enemies. When he was staying +at Perth one Christmas-time, these enemies, led by a +bold villain called Sir Robert Graham, secretly encircled +the house where he was staying. The unarmed king +only heard of their presence when they were advancing, +fully armed, to his room. He tore up a plank in the +floor, seeking thus to find a hiding-place. The enemies +were almost at the door, and it was necessary to delay +their entrance, for one minute might save his life. All +the bars of the door had been removed beforehand, but +a brave heroine, Kate Douglas, thrust her arm through +the staples. The villains were angered to find the door +barred against them, and hurled their weight upon it.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The Douglas heroine stood there, her pale face set +hard, without a cry, as the crash broke the bone of her +brave strong arm, and the would-be murderers staggered +in. But alas! the sacrifice of Kate Douglas availed +nothing except to place her name upon the immortal +roll of the heroes of the ages, for after a brief search the +murderers found the king and slew him.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The queen, who had loved James with the utmost +devotion, found her love give added fierceness to her +hate against his murderers. They were all tracked down, +and she caused them to die with terrible tortures, the +cruellest of which she reserved for Graham. Thus did +great King James's "milk-white dove" revenge the +slaying of the husband she loved dearer than life itself.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Till this time it had seemed as if the Douglases were +devoted to the good of Scotland. But in those wild, +reckless times qualities that were strong for good could +also be strong for evil.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When James I. of Scotland was murdered, his young +son was only six years old. This meant that for many +years there would be no strong king able to cope with +the lawless spirit of the nobles, strongest among whom +were the proud, bold Douglases.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The lawlessness of the times is well shown by an act +of foul treachery committed by Sir William Crichton, +Governor of Edinburgh, and an enemy of the Douglas +family. He invited one of the earls to dinner at the +castle, and while there had him seized and beheaded. +It is said that a bull's head was placed on the dish in +front of Douglas, this being a sign that he was to be +killed. The people called this "Douglas's black dinner," +and sang of the wicked deed in sorrowful verse:—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Edinburgh Castle, town and tower</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>God grant thou sink for sin!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And even for that black dinner</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Earl Douglas got therein."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>But the new King James found, before he was twenty +years old, that the Douglases themselves could act with +equal cruelty and lawlessness.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The king was fond of a brave young soldier named +Maclellan, who, having some quarrel with Earl Douglas, +was thrown by him into a dungeon in his castle. So +the king wrote a letter to Douglas, saying he must set +Maclellan free, and sent this letter by Maclellan's uncle, +Sir Patrick Gray. When Douglas saw Gray riding up to +his castle, he at once guessed the errand. So he came +out as though he were delighted to see him, and insisted +on his sitting down and having dinner with him, before +the king's letter was opened and discussed. But the +treacherous earl had given secret orders that Maclellan +should be beheaded while they were dining, so that after +dinner was over, and the letter was read, he could say +that this had been done before he had seen the king's +message.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Gray dared not show his anger, for fear he too should +be killed. He mounted his swift horse and rode away, +but the moment he was outside the castle walls he shook +his mailed fist at Douglas and cried out—</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Treacherous earl, disgrace to knighthood, some day +you shall pay for this black, base deed!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Douglas mounted his men, and they pursued Gray +almost to the gates of Edinburgh; but he rode for his +life, and faster than they.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When Douglas and the king next met there was a +stormy scene. The earl was so proud and wilful that +he would not bend to any of the king's wishes or heed +the king's anger in the least. So King James, mad with +rage, stabbed the reckless earl with his dagger, and Sir +Patrick Gray, seeing this, struck him a death-blow with +his axe.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The king was in Stirling Castle, a powerful fortress at +the top of a steep hill, when the new earl, the younger +brother of the murdered man, rode up with six hundred +followers, and burnt and plundered the town before the +king's very eyes, and added to the insult by publicly +declaring that King James II. was a law-breaker.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>For three years the quarrel went on between the king +and the Douglases, but it was then evident that there +could be no peace between them. So at last the king's +army attacked the collected forces of the strong Douglas +family at a place on the Borders then called Arkinholm, +where the picturesque little town of Langholm now stands. +Here the beautiful river Esk receives the water of two +smaller streams, and so it was a good place to make a +stand for a fight. The battle was long and desperate; +three brothers of the bold black Douglases were there, and +they withstood the king's men till the rivers ran red; +but their cause was hopeless. One was slain in battle; +one was taken and executed; one escaped into England; +and the power of the Black Douglases was gone.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Thus it was that the strongest and most famous family +of the Borders was broken up, because its proud leaders +dared to dictate to the king himself.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="alnwick-castle-and-the-percies"><span class="bold large">Chapter XIII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Alnwick Castle and the Percies</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The castle of Alnwick stands on a hill on the +south bank of the river Alne; being protected +on one side by the river and on another by a +deep gorge, it stands in a strong natural position. There +are traces of earthworks that seem to show that the +spot was fortified in the old British days, but the earliest +fact which we know certainly is that there was a Saxon +fortress here, held by a Gilbert Tyson, when William +the Conqueror claimed England. Tyson hastened south +to fight on Harold's side, and was killed at the battle +of Hastings.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The fortress seems to have got into the hands of a +Norman knight, Ivo de Vesci, who married the +grand-daughter of Gilbert Tyson. King Malcolm of Scotland +was killed in front of it, in 1093, with three thousand of +his men. De Vesci's son-in-law was probably the knight +who rebuilt the castle in the Norman style, some portions +of which still remain.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In 1174, William the Lion, King of Scotland, who +had claimed Northumberland as his own, attacked +the castles of Wark and of Alnwick. Wark was +defended by a gallant knight named Roger de Stuteville. +William's brave men tried in vain to force their way +through the portcullis, but were beaten back. Then +William ordered up his </span><em class="italics">perière</em><span>, a machine made for +hurling stones. "This," said the king, "will soon +smash down the gate for us!" With great expectations +the machine was set in motion, but it acted so badly +that it threw the stones on to William's own men, and +nearly killed one of his best knights! William raved in +his fury, and swore he would rather have been captured +in fair fight than be made to look so foolish in the eyes of +his enemies. He gave word to burn the castle, but the +wind was in the wrong quarter and blew back the flames. +So he had to give up the siege. Stuteville, like a gallant +enemy, told his men not to shout taunts and jeers at the +departing Scots. But instead they blew trumpets and +horns, and sang songs, and called out a very loud and +hearty "Good-bye."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Shortly afterwards, William came before Alnwick, and +it was then De Vesci's turn. It was Saturday morning on +a hot July day, and the Scottish king's knights +flatteringly told him that the English were bound to give way +to him, and Northumberland would be his. The king +was dining in front of the castle, with no helmet on, when +suddenly a part of the English army made a surprise +attack. The bold king leapt on to his grey charger, and +unhorsed the first knight he met. So quick and brave +were the Scots that they had almost defeated the English +when an English foot-soldier stabbed the king's horse +with his lance, and it fell, bringing William down to the +ground and pinning him there. This turned the course +of battle; the Scots were beaten back, and William +taken prisoner.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In was in 1309 that the great Percy family first +obtained possession of Alnwick and its domain. Henry +Percy purchased it from Anthony Bek, Bishop of Durham, +who had somehow obtained power over it, and the brave +De Vesci family disappear. About this date Northumberland +was in a miserable condition; it was the reign +of the feeble Edward II., and Bruce had invaded the +four northernmost counties of England, and was exacting +tribute from them. The English were safe only within +their fortresses.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>However, the brave Sir Thomas Gray, who held +Norham Castle, did much to uphold the falling honour +of England, and Henry Percy almost rebuilt the castle +of Alnwick, which in his son's time successfully withstood +a siege. But at last peace was restored by the Treaty of +Northampton in 1328, by the terms of which the English +king renounced all claim to Scotland.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The Percy family were of Norman origin, deriving +their name from a Norman village. William de Percy +crossed to England just after the battle of Hastings, and +received grants of land in Yorkshire. Agnes de Percy +married Jocelin, Count of Louvain, and their son Henry +took his mother's surname. From that year onward, the +the Christian name of Henry was always given to the +eldest son; there were fourteen Henry Percies!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Even in these wild times the Percies were distinguished +by the boldness of their spirits. One of the Counts of +Louvain, grandfather of the first Henry Percy, shocked +the men of his day by hanging some of his enemies with +the church bell-ropes. It was not the hanging that was +objected to—hanging was common enough; but the use +of church-ropes for the purpose was thought very +wicked!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>After they had rebuilt Alnwick Castle and settled down +there, the Percies soon established their power in the +North. At the coronation of Richard II., in 1377, a +Henry Percy was Marshal of England, and he was then +made Earl of Northumberland. His son, "Hotspur," +was the most famous of all the Percies. In their time, the +battles of Otterbourne and Homildon Hill were fought. +But they rebelled against Henry IV. and Hotspur was +killed at the battle of Shrewsbury (1403), while his father +was slain a few years later at Bramham Moor, his head +set up on London Bridge, and quarters of his body on the +gates of Berwick, Newcastle, Lincoln, and London, to +discourage others from following in his footsteps!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Henry, son of "Hotspur," was the second earl. He +repaired and added to the castle and was present at the +battle of Agincourt. It was not the habit of the Percies +to die in their beds, and this one was killed in the Wars +of the Roses, at the first battle of St Albans, in 1455.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The fact of their having taken the losing Lancastrian +side in these wars kept the family under a cloud for a +number of years. One of them deserted Richard III. on +Bosworth field in 1485; one of them was beheaded at +York in 1572, for taking part in the "Rising of the +North"; one of them was found shot in his bed in 1585, +and another died in the Tower in 1632. So that the +family could hardly be said to be quieting down.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>They sided with Parliament during the Civil War, but +later on they favoured the Restoration. At last there +came a time when there were no male heirs left in this +great line, but only a daughter, Elizabeth. She married +the Duke of Somerset, and had thirteen children, the +eldest surviving of whom was created Earl of Northumberland +in 1748. But he died the year after, leaving only +a daughter, who had married a very able baronet, to +whom was given the title of Duke of Northumberland +in 1766. He very wisely took the surname of Percy, +and again restored the castle of Alnwick, putting the +family estates and affairs in good order. So that the +Percies of Alnwick Castle are Dukes of Northumberland +to this day.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="hexham-and-queen-margaret"><span class="bold large">Chapter XIV</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Hexham and Queen Margaret</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The town of Hexham stands on the south bank +of the Tyne, rising gradually up the hill and +presenting a most picturesque appearance. +About two miles above Hexham the North and the +South Tyne meet, and the combined river is broad +and noble, and the hills around Hexham give +strength and beauty to the scene. The commanding +appearance and central position of the priory church +adds its note of dignity, and the total effect of the town +is very pleasing to the eye.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>There is no doubt that from very early times there was +a town in this fine natural position. The burial-grounds +of primitive races have been discovered here, with stone +and bronze implements. The Romans had a town here +of some importance, although it was four miles south of +their great wall. A Roman tombstone was discovered +here, nine feet by three and a half feet, showing a Roman +officer on horseback, overthrowing in fierce fight a +savage and scowling foe. This fine relic is set up in the +church, and is not the only thing to see there. The +original church upon this spot was built in 674, in the +reign of King Egfrid of Northumbria. Wilfrid, the +very able and influential Bishop of York, was the +man who presided at the building of it, and there +were bishops at Hexham for a couple of centuries. In +875 the Danes ruthlessly burnt the town; and nearly +one thousand years later, in 1832, there was found buried +in the ground a bronze vessel containing about nine +thousand Saxon coins of the eighth and ninth century, +evidently buried to protect this treasure from the +invaders. Those who buried them were probably slain +before they had time to dig them up again. There was a +legend of another treasure hidden between Hexham and +Corbridge, and King John came to Hexham in 1201 to +search for it. He returned in 1208 and in 1212, but found +nothing. Time passed, and this tale of hidden treasure +ceased even to be local gossip, but in 1735 by accident it +was found.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The present handsome priory church must have been +built about the time of King John's visits to Hexham. +It is a noble building, well worth a visit. In 1725, when +some work was being done in the church, a wonderful +discovery was made. It was found that there was an +old Saxon crypt, a narrow vault with several passages, +underneath the church! This was so carefully hidden +that it was evidently intended as a place of refuge in +danger. It was built of Roman stones, several of which +have Roman inscriptions.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The Scots several times attacked Hexham. Once +Sir William Wallace came there with his army, but he +would not let his Scots damage the church, so that +Hexham, on the whole, had a less stormy life than many +of the Border towns, although in 1537, when Henry +VIII. caused the monastery to be suppressed, the prior and +five of the leading monks were hanged before the gates +as a gentle reminder that they were to live there no +longer.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But by far the most stirring event in Hexham's history +was the battle which raged there in 1464. The Wars of +the Roses do not form a pleasing episode in English +history. They were pitiless, and treachery was mingled +with bloodshed; desertions and executions were the +accompaniment of every battle. Edward IV. was coldly +cruel and unscrupulous, one of the blackest figures of a +black time. But romance centres round Queen Margaret, +the dauntless and resourceful wife of the feeble King +Henry VI., with whom Edward disputed the throne. +She it was who, making up for her husband's weakness, +urged ever bravely and hopefully the cause of her son. +Thus she pressed on to the very end, till that son, worthy +of his heroic mother, proudly answered the taunts of his +base enemies, even though in their power, preferring +speedy death to any lessening of his tragic dignity, and +dying before the eyes of the successful and exultant +Edward.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In this fierce drama, Hexham was but an episode. +The Lancastrians had scattered after their heavy defeat +at Towton. Margaret in person had begged a little help +of the King of Scotland, a little more of the King of +France. The Borderland was favourable to her, and +she gathered her forces together there, King Henry +VI. staying in Alnwick Castle.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Montague, brother to the powerful but crafty +Earl of Warwick, was warden of the East Marches for +Edward, and he hastily collected the Yorkist forces. He +was swift, able, and unscrupulous. He attacked a small +body of Lancastrians on Hedgeley Moor, only ten miles +from Alnwick, and defeated them, killing their leader, +Sir Ralph Percy, son of Hotspur. As this gallant man +died he consoled himself by saying, "I have saved the +bird in my bosom," by which poetical phrase he meant +that he had saved his honour by being true to his queen. +In May the greater battle of Hexham was fought. King +Henry was there in person, with the dauntless Queen +Margaret and her son, and their brave general, the +Duke of Somerset. They marched out of Hexham to +attack Lord Montague; the battle began by the village +of Linnels, on the south side of the Devil's Water, a +stream that runs into the Tyne. The fight was +desperate, for both sides knew that no quarter would +be given. It is said by some that the Scots, having +no interest in the war, deserted Margaret; anyway, bit +by bit the Lancastrians were forced back, to the very +streets of Hexham itself, two miles away. In these +narrow streets, in the quarter that is still called Battle +Hill, the last desperate fighters on the side of the Red +Rose made their final and unavailing stand.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>At last the remnant fled, and no doubt many a +Hexham maid and dame, at the risk of her own life or +limb, hid that day some devoted follower of Margaret.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The gallant Duke of Somerset was taken prisoner, and +there and then was brought to the block in the +market-place and beheaded. The cruel Montague had not the +true soldier's respect for a brave enemy, whose blood thus +mingled with that of his men. Other nobles were taken +as prisoners to Newcastle, but Edward also was devoid +of mercy, and all perished.</span></p> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 64%" id="figure-150"> +<span id="the-final-battle-in-the-streets-of-hexham"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="*The Final Battle in the Streets of Hexham*" src="images/img-094.jpg" /> +<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> +<em class="italics">The Final Battle in the Streets of Hexham</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pnext"><span>Till the last moment the queen hoped on. She was +not daunted by scenes of strife and bloodshed. When +defeat was an accomplished fact, she and her young son +fled to the Dipton Woods, where they fell into the hands +of rough men, some say a party of Yorkist stragglers. +Whilst these men were eagerly dividing and quarrelling +over the queen's jewels, she and the prince slipped away. +Deeper into the dangerous woods they had to go, for +worse than robbers were hunting for them around +Hexham. Suddenly an outlaw stood in their path with +drawn sword. Even after that day of stir and terror +Margaret's courage did not fail her. She boldly declared +to the man that she was the Queen of England, and with +her was her only son. Now, if he chose to betray them +he could do so; but if he had that natural nobility that +hailed gladly great chances to do great deeds, now was his +time to prove himself a man, and to save the ill-fated +prince and his queen.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The robber bowed before her as though she were on +her throne, and as if the trees were her army around her. +He swore to die a hundred deaths rather than betray his +rightful sovereign and her prince. He honourably kept +his word; and through his safe guidance and steady +devotion, both queen and prince were able to join King +Henry in Scotland, to which place he had safely escaped.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Thus the bandit of Hexham proved himself to be a +truer man than either Lord Montague, or Warwick, the +King-maker, or King Edward IV. of England.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="fair-helen-of-kirkconnell"><span class="bold large">Chapter XV</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Fair Helen of Kirkconnell</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Very simple, very touching, is the story of fair +Helen of Kirkconnell. This beautiful maiden +had two lovers, one rich, one poor. Her friends +favoured the rich one, she loved the poor one. She and +her chosen lover used to meet secretly in the romantic +churchyard of Kirkconnell, by the side of the river +Kirtle. Learning this, the rejected lover crept up one +evening, with his carbine, to shoot his luckier rival; +Helen saw him at the moment of firing, and threw herself +forward to receive the shot in her bosom, and so save her +lover's life at the cost of her own.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The ballad describing the grief of her lover is one of +the most beautiful and touching pieces of poetry in +existence, and must be given here entire.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold">FAIR HELEN</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>I wish I were where Helen lies;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Night and day on me she cries;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>O that I were where Helen lies,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>On fair Kirkconnell Lee!</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Curst be the heart that thought the thought,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And curst the hand that shot the shot,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>When in my arms burd Helen dropt,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And died to succour me.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>O think ye not my heart was sair,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>When my love dropt and spak nae mair!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>There did she swoon wi' meikle care,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>On fair Kirkconnell Lee.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>As I went down the water-side,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>None but my foe to be my guide,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>None but my foe to be my guide,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>On fair Kirkconnell Lee!</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>I lighted down my sword to draw,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I hacked him in pieces sma',</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I hacked him in pieces sma',</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For her sake that died for me.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>O Helen fair beyond compare,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I'll make a garland of thy hair,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Shall bind my heart for evermair,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Until the day I die.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>O that I were where Helen lies,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Night and day on me she cries;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Out of my bed she bids me rise,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Says, "Haste and come to me!"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>O Helen fair! O Helen chaste!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>If I were with thee, I were blest,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Where thou lies low, and takes thy rest,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>On fair Kirkconnell Lee.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>O that my grave were growing green,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>A winding sheet drawn ower my een,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And I in Helen's arms were lying,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>On fair Kirkconnell Lee!</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>I wish I were where Helen lies!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Night and day on me she cries,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And I am weary of the skies,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For her sake that died for me.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="johnie-of-breadislee"><span class="bold large">Chapter XVI</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Johnie of Breadislee</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Johnie of Breadislee, outlaw and deer-stealer, +was one of the "broken men," as they were +called, the Ishmaels of the Border. Johnie rose +up one May morning, and called for water to wash his +hands. He ordered to be unleashed his good grey dogs, +that were bound with iron chains. When his mother +heard that he had called for the dogs, she wrung her hands. +"O Johnie!" she cried, "for my blessing, do not go to +the greenwood to-day. Ye have enough of good wheat +bread, enough blood-red wine, therefore, Johnie, I pray, +stir not from home for any venison." But despite his +mother's tears, Johnie busked up his good bent bow, and +his arrows, and went off to Durrisdeer to hunt down the +dun deer. As he came by Merriemass he espied a deer +lying beneath a bush of furze. Johnie let fly an arrow, +and the deer leapt as the pitiless shaft found its mark, +and between the water and the brae his good hounds +"laid her pride." So Johnie cut up the venison, giving +the liver and lungs to his faithful hounds, as if they had +been earl's sons. With such zest did they eat and drink +that Johnie and the dogs fell asleep, as if they had been +dead. Then as they lay, there came by a silly old man, +and, as soon as he saw the poachers, he ran away to +Hislinton, where the Seven Foresters were. "What +news?" they asked. "What news bring ye, ye +grey-headed carle?" "I bring no news," said the grey-headed +carle, "save what my eyes did see. As I came +down by Merrimass among the stunted trees, the bonniest +child I ever saw lay asleep among his dogs. The shirt +upon his back was of fine Holland, his doubtlet, over that, +was of Lincoln twine, his buttons were of the good gold, +the mouths of his good grey hounds were dyed with blood."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Now Johnie, like many another free-hearted outlaw, +was a well-liked man. So the chief forester said, "If +this be Johnie of Breadislee we will draw no nearer." But +this was not the spirit of his men. Quoth the sixth +Forester, "If it indeed be he, rather let us slay +him." Cautiously they went through the thicket, and when they +saw their man, asleep and helpless, they shot a flight +of arrows. Johnie sprang up, sore wounded on the knee. +The seventh forester cried out, "The next flight will +kill him," but little chance did the outlaw give them for +such an easy victory. He set his back against an oak +and propped his wounded leg upon a stone; with bow +or with sword he was a better man by far than any of his +foes.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In the short, sharp fight that followed, he killed six of +the foresters, some with arrow, and some with steel; +and when the seventh turned to flee, Johnie seized him +from behind and threw him on to the ground with a force +that broke three of his ribs. Then he laid him on his +steed, and bade him carry the tidings home.</span></p> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 64%" id="figure-151"> +<span id="id1"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="*Johnie of Breadislee*" src="images/img-100.jpg" /> +<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> +<em class="italics">Johnie of Breadislee</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pnext"><span>But Johnie himself was hurt to death. "Is there no +bonnie singing bird," he cried, "that can fly to my +mother's bower and tell her to fetch Johnie away?" A +starling flew to his mother's window sill, and sang and +whistled, and the burden of its tune was ever the same. +"Johnie tarries long." So the men made a litter from +rods of the hazel bush and of the thorn and fetched +Johnie away. Then his old mother's tears flowed fast, +and she said, "Ye would not be warned, my son Johnie, +to bide away from the hunting. Oft have I brought to +Breadislee the less or greater gear, but never what grieved +my heart so sorely. But woe betide that silly old +grey-headed carle! An ill death shall he die! The highest +tree in Merriemass shall be his reward."</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Now Johnie's gude bent bow is brake,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And his gude grey dogs are slain,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And his body lies dead in Durrisdeer,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And his hunting it is done."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="katharine-janfarie"><span class="bold large">Chapter XVII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Katharine Janfarie</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>This ballad is evidently the original of Sir +Walter Scott's "Lochinvar," though Sir +Walter reversed the names of the two leading +male characters. In "Katharine Janfarie" +Lochinvar plays the part of the craven bridegroom.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>There was a may,[#] and a weel-far'd may,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Lived high up in yon glen;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Her name was Katharine Janfarie,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>She was courted by mony men.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] maiden.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Up there came Lord Lauderdale,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Up frae the Lowland Border,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And he has come to court this may,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>A' mounted in good order.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>He told na her father, he told na her mother,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And he told na ane o' her kin,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>But he whispered the bonnie lassie hersell,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And has her favour won.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>But out there cam Lord Lochinvar,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Out frae the English Border,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>All for to court this bonny may,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Weel mounted, and in order.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>He told her father, he told her mother,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And a' the lave[#] o' her kin;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>But he told na the bonny may hersell,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Till on her wedding e'en.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] rest.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>She sent to the Lord o' Lauderdale,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Gin[#] he wad come and see,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And he has sent back word again,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Weel answered he suld[#] be.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] if. +<br />[#] should.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And he has sent a messenger</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Right quickly through the land,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And raised mony an armed man</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>To be at his command.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>The bride looked out at a high window,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Beneath baith dale and down,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And she was aware of her first true love,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>With riders mony a one.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>She scoffed him, and scorned him,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Upon her wedding-day;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And said, "It was the Fairy Court,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>To see him in array!</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"O come ye here to fight, young lord,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Or come ye here to play?</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Or come ye here to drink good wine,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Upon the wedding-day?"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"I come na here to fight," he said,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>"I come na here to play,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>I'll but lead a dance wi' the bonny bride,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And mount, and go my way."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>It is a glass of the blood-red wine</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Was filled up them between,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And aye she drank to Lauderdale,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Wha[#] her true love had been.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] who.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>He's taen[#] her by the milk-white hand,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And by the grass-green sleeve;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>He's mounted her hie behind himsell,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>At her kinsmen speired[#] na leave.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] taken. +<br />[#] asked.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Now take your bride, Lord Lochinvar!</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Now take her if ye may!</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>But if you take your bride again,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>We'll call it but foul play."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>There were four-and-twenty bonnie boys,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>A' clad in the Johnstone grey;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>They said they would take the bride again,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>By the strong hand, if they may.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Some o' them were right willing men,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>But they were na willing a';</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And four-and-twenty Leader lads</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Bid them mount and ride awa'.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Then whingers flew frae gentles' sides,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And swords flew frae the shea's,[#]</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And red and rosy was the blood</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Ran down the lily braes.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] sheathes.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>The blood ran down by Caddon bank,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And down by Caddon brae,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And, sighing, said the bonnie bride—</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>"O wae's me for foul play."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>My blessing on your heart, sweet thing!</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Wae to your wilfu' will!</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>There's mony a gallant gentleman</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Whae's bluid ye have garred[#] to spill.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] caused.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Now a' the lords of fair England,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And that dwell by the English Border,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Come never here to seek a wife,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For fear of sic[#] disorder.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] such.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>They'll track ye up, and settle ye bye,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Till on your wedding-day;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Then gie ye frogs instead of fish,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And play ye foul foul play.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold">LOCHINVAR</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>In Sir Walter Scott's poem, Lochinvar is the hero, +and the story has a happier ending. The song was +supposed to have been sung to James IV. by Lady +Heron at Holyrood shortly before the fatal battle of +Flodden.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>O young Lochinvar has come out of the west,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Through all the wide border his steel was the best;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And save his good broadsword, he weapons had none,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>He staid not for brake, and he stopped not for stone,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He swam the Eske river where ford there was none,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The bride had consented, the gallant came late;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Among bride's men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word),</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?"</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And now am I come, with this lost love of mine,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>There are maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar."</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>So stately her form, and so lovely her face,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>That never a hall such a galliard did grace;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>While her brother did fret, and her father did fume,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And the bridgroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And the bride-maidens whispered, "'Twere better by far,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar."</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>So light to the saddle before her he sprung!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"She is won! we have gone over bank, bush, and scaur;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Fosters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>There was racing and chasing, on Cannobie Lee,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="by-lauder-bridge"><span class="bold large">Chapter XVIII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">By Lauder Bridge</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The Ancient Royal Burgh of Lauder, a quaint +little border town with hardly more than one +street, is on the banks of the river Leader, on +the high road between Edinburgh and Kelso. It stands +very picturesquely, among the bold hills and fine woods +of Berwickshire, and the valley is called Lauderdale, +extending to where the Leader joins the Tweed, just +below Melrose. Peacefully beautiful is the spot; and +yet it was once the scene of a harsh, grim tragedy.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>It was in the reign of King James III. of Scotland, +who offended his subjects in two particulars.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>First, to get wealth for himself, he mixed brass and lead +with his silver money, and put it into circulation as pure +silver; next, he chose favourites from the common people, +and set these above the proud noblemen of Scotland.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>This latter would not have been so bad a fault if the +king had always chosen wisely; but, as often in such +cases, he was led by flatterers rather than by worthy men.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In 1482 the king declared war against England, and, +as in these warlike days the nobles were the leaders +of the army, this brought the discontented lords +together.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When the Scottish army reached Lauder in their +southward march, the proud nobles met in Lauder +church; all were angry with the king, yet each was +afraid to make the first move. So Lord Gray told them +a mocking fable.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you remember," said he, "how all the mice got +together and agreed that it would be a splendid thing if a +bell were hung round the cat's neck, so that wherever +she went she could be heard; the only difficulty was +to find a mouse to bell the cat!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>These warlike nobles did not like to be spoken of +as if they were mice, and it roused them to deeper rage.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then out spoke Archibald Douglas, Earl of Angus, the +head of the younger branch of the Douglas family. +"Trust me, I'll bell the cat!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>There was a knock at the door; Cochrane, the architect, +whom the nobles said had been a mason, but was now the +king's chief favourite, entered, dressed in black velvet, +with a heavy chain of gold round his neck, a horn of gold +tipped with precious stones, and all his attire of the +costliest. Angus caught the chain in his hands and said, +"A rope would suit that neck better!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then the nobles laid violent hands on all the king's +low-born favourites and hanged them by the bridge of +Lauder, in front of the king's very eyes! Cochrane +was proud and brave to the last. He said that as the +king had made him an earl he should be hanged with a +rope made of silk; little did the nobles care for his +protests, the halter of a horse was in their opinion good +enough for him.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>From this time onward the headstrong Earl of +Angus was known by the nick-name of "Bell-the-Cat." It +may be taken for granted that neither he nor +the nobles who supported him would have dared to +act so arrogantly and violently unless they felt quite +sure that the king had not the power to punish them. +He returned sullenly to Edinburgh, more the captive +of the nobles than their master.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>A parliament appointed the Duke of Albany lieutenant-general +of the kingdom, but he in turn soon lost favour, +for he was suspected of too great a friendship for Edward +IV., King of England, and fled for safety to France, +giving James another chance to govern his kingdom for +himself.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>This weak and unhappy monarch, however, was not +destined to have much peace. Before very long, +another quarrel with his nobles led to their taking up +arms with a view of deposing him and placing his son on +the throne. The king and his nobles met in battle near +Stirling, but, at the very beginning of the fight, James +was thrown from his horse and stabbed by a soldier, +whose name remained unknown. Thus died this weak +but amiable and unfortunate king.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="the-battle-of-flodden-field"><span class="bold large">Chapter XIX</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Battle of Flodden Field</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>One of the most tragic episodes in the History +of the Borders was the battle of Flodden Field, +when the flower of the Scottish nobility fell +around their sovereign, James IV., while fighting against +the English under Surrey.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The causes of the war were many. Henry of England +refused to give up the jewels which had been promised +as the dowry of his sister Margaret on her marriage with +James IV.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The Lord High Admiral of England, Sir Edmund +Howard, had attacked and taken two Scottish ships, and +slain their captain, Sir Andrew Barton. James, who +was fond of Barton, demanded redress, but Henry +insolently replied that kings should not quarrel about +pirates.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But the immediate cause was the friendship between +France and Scotland. Henry was preparing for war +with France, and James stood by his ally, declaring that +if Henry warred with France, he would lead an army +into England. The Queen of France sent James a +turquoise ring, asking him to carry out his threat to +serve her interests.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>James had been warned that his action would have +terrible consequences. A man appeared to him at +Linlithgow, clad in a long blue gown, with bare head, and +carrying a pikestaff, and having told the king that his +dead mother had sent him to warn him not to go to +war against England, he disappeared as suddenly as he +had come.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Also at the dead of night a voice had been heard +proclaiming aloud at the market Cross in Edinburgh the +names of those who, within forty days, would be no more. +It was thought at the time that these happenings were +instigated by Queen Margaret, but the king still +persisted in his policy, and led his army across the Border, +in spite of the warnings of his counsellors and his queen.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>A fine description of his army is given by Sir Walter +Scott, when Lord Marmion watches the scene from +Blackford Hill.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Thousand pavilions, white as snow,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Spread all the Borough-moor below,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Upland, and dale, and down:—</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>A thousand, did I say? I ween,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Thousands and thousands, there were seen,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>That chequer'd all the heath between</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The streamlet and the town;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>In crossing ranks extending far,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Forming a camp irregular;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Oft giving way, where still there stood</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Some relics of the old oak wood,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>That darkly huge did intervene,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And tamed the glaring white with green,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>In these extended lines there lay,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>A martial kingdom's vast array.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>For from Hebudes, dark with rain,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To eastern Lodon's fertile plain,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And from the southern Redswire edge,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To farthest Rosse's rocky ledge,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>From west to east, from south to north,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Scotland sent all her warriors forth,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Marmion might hear the mingled hum,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Of myriads up the mountain come;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The horses' tramp, and tingling clank,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Where chiefs reviewed their vassal rank,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And charger's shrilling neigh;</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And see the shifting lines advance</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Whilst frequent flash'd, from shield and lance,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The sun's reflected ray.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>* * * * *</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>They saw, slow rolling on the plain,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Full many a baggage-cart and wain,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And dire artillery's clumsy car.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>By sluggish oxen tugg'd to war;</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>* * * * *</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Nor mark'd they less, where in the air</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>A thousand streamers flaunted fair,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Various in shape, device, and hue,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Green, sanguine, purple, red, and blue,</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Broad, narrow, swallow-tailed, and square,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Scroll, pennon, pensil, bandrol,[#] there</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>O'er the pavilions flew.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Highest and midmost, was descried</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The royal banner floating wide;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The staff, a pine-tree, strong and straight,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Pitch'd deeply in a massive stone,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Which still in memory is shown,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Yet bent beneath the standard's weight.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Whene'er the western breeze unroll'd,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>With toil, the huge and cumbrous fold,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And gave to view the dazzling field,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Where, in proud Scotland's royal shield,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The ruddy lion ramp'd in gold."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Each feudal ensign intimated the rank of those who displayed +them.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Marmion wondered that with such a glorious army at +his back anyone should try to dissuade James from +battle, yet Sir David Lindesay of the Mount answered +him,</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>"'twere good</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>That Kings would think withal,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>When peace and wealth their land has bless'd,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>'Tis better to sit still at rest,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Than rise, perchance to fall."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Men-at-arms were there, sheathed in plate armour, +with battle-axe and spear, and mounted on Flemish +steeds. Young knights and squires practised their +chargers on the plain. Hardy burghers marched on +foot, armed with long pikes and two-handed swords and +bright bucklers.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The yeoman, too, was on foot, dressed in steel-jack +quilted well with iron, and bearing at his back, +provisions for forty days. He seemed sad of cheer, and +loth to leave his humble cottage, wondering who would +till the land during his absence.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>There, too, was the Borderer:—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>"bred to war,</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>He knew the battle's din afar,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And joy'd to hear it swell.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>His peaceful day was slothful ease,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Nor harp nor pipe his ear could please</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Like the loud slogan yell."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>for</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"War's the Borderer's game,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Their gain, their glory, their delight,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To sleep the day, maraud the night,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>O'er mountain, moss, and moor."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 63%" id="figure-152"> +<span id="flodden-field"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="*Flodden Field*" src="images/img-116.jpg" /> +<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> +<em class="italics">Flodden Field</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>There, too, were the Celts, with savage eyes looking +out wildly through red and sable hair, with sinewy +frames and legs bare above the knees, their chiefs known +by the eagle's plumage. They wore the skin of the red +deer, a graceful bonnet, and a plaid hung from the +shoulders, and carried as weapons a broadsword, a +dagger, and quivers, bows, and shafts.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The Isles-men, too, were there, carrying the ancient +Danish battle-axe. While the army was mustering +together, James feasted the chiefs in Holyrood Palace, +for at dawn they were to march southward.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Well loved that splendid monarch aye</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The banquet and the song,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>By day the tourney, and by night</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The merry dance, traced fast and light,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The maskers quaint, the pageant bright,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The revel loud and long.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>This feast outshone his banquets past;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>It was his blithest and his last."</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And hazel was his eagle eye,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And auburn of the darkest dye,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>His short curl'd beard and hair.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Light was his footstep in the dance,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And firm his stirrup in the lists;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And oh! he had that merry glance,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>That seldom lady's heart resists."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Yet no fair lady was as dear to James as his own +Queen Margaret, who sat alone in the tower of Linlithgow +weeping for the war against her native country, and for +the danger of her lord.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>On the morrow, James marched south, crossed the +Tweed, and encamped on the banks of the Till, near +Twisel Bridge. The Scottish army moved down the side +of the Tweed to Flodden Hill taking Norham Castle, and +the Border towns of Etal, Wark, and Ford. Much time +was wasted in these petty enterprises, time which should +have been spent in marching to Newcastle before the +English were prepared to offer resistance. When the +castle of Ford was stormed, Lady Heron, wife of Sir +William Heron, then a prisoner in Scotland, was taken, +and this beautiful and artful woman induced James to +idle away his time until all chance was lost of defeating +the enemy.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The army suffered severely from want of provisions, +and many of the Highlanders and Isles-men returned +home, many who had come only for booty, deserted, +and the numbers were reduced to about thirty +thousand.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile, the Earl of Surrey had raised twenty-six +thousand men, and received other enforcements as he +came north from Durham. He therefore challenged +James to fight, and charged him with violating the +treaty of peace between the two kingdoms.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The Scottish nobles were unwilling to fight, and said it +was impossible to remain in a country so plundered; +also, if fight the king must, he would fight to much +greater advantage in his own country, to whose welfare +the loss of this battle would be fatal; while he had +sufficiently indicated his honour by crossing the Border.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>James would not listen to the counsel of his nobles, +though even the aged Earl of Angus expostulated with +him. To this old warrior he angrily said, "Angus, if you +are afraid, you may go home," at which insult the aged +Earl burst into tears.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The English army crossed the Till by Twisel Bridge +and pressed on while the Scottish army stood idly by, +the Scottish nobles in vain entreating the king to attack +the English while they were crossing.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When the English army had drawn up in order of +battle on the left bank of the river, the Scots, setting fire +to their temporary huts, came down the ridge of Flodden. +The clouds of smoke from the burning huts were driven +into the face of the English, so that the Scots had got to +within a quarter of a mile of them before they perceived +them.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"No martial shout, nor minstrel tone,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Announced their march; their tread alone,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>At times one warning trumpet blown,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>At times a stifled hum,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Told England, from his mountain-throne,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>King James did rushing come:</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Scarce could they hear or see their foes</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Until at weapon-point they close."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>With clanging blows and arrows that fell like rain, with +yelling and clamour and sword-sway and lance-thrust, +the battle continued until the evening, and when even +fell, the Scots still fought in an unbroken ring round their +king. But when darkness came, and Surrey withdrew +his men, the flower of Scotland's chivalry had fallen, and +the king lay dead on the field.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Afar, the royal standard flies,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And round it toils and bleeds and dies.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Our Caledonian pride!"</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>* * * * *</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>But yet, though thick the shafts as now,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Though charging knights like whirlwinds go,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Though billmen ply the ghastly bow,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Unbroken was the ring.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The stubborn spearmen still made good</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Their dark impenetrable wood,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Each stepping where his comrade stood</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The instant that he fell.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>No thought was there of dastard flight:</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Link'd in the serried phalanx tight,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Groom fought like noble, squire like knight,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>As fearlessly and well;</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Till utter darkness closed her wing</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>O'er their thin host and wounded King.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Then skilful Surrey's sage commands</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Led back from strife his shattered bands;</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And from the charge they drew,</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>As mountain-waves, from wasted lands,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Sweep back to ocean blue.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Then did their loss his foemen know;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Their King, their lords, their mightiest low,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>They melted from the field as snow,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>When streams are swoln and south winds blow</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Dissolves in silent dew.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>* * * * *</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Still from the sire the son shall hear</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Of the stern fight and carnage drear</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Of Flodden's fatal field,</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Where shiver'd was fair Scotland's spear,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And broken was her shield!</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>* * * * *</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And well in death his trusty brand,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Firm clench'd within his manly hand</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Beseem'd the Monarch slain."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="after-flodden"><span class="bold large">Chapter XX</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">After Flodden</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>So deeply did the tragic result of Flodden touch +the hearts of the Scottish people that no Scot +could for many a long day hear it mentioned +without a heart-thrill.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Many are the songs written about it, the most famous +perhaps, being the "Flowers of the Forest," written +two centuries later, though partly founded upon an older +and almost forgotten song.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold">THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>I've heard them lilting, at our ewe-milking,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Lasses a' lilting, before dawn o' day;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>But now they are moaning on ilka green loaning[#]</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] a broad grassy lane used as milking-ground.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>At bughts, in the morning, nae blythe lads are scorning;[#]</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The lasses are lonely, and dowie, and wae;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Wae daffing,[#] nae gabbing,[#] but sighing and sabbing;</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Ilk ane lifts her leglin,[#] and hies her away.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] rallying. +<br />[#] joking. +<br />[#] chatting. +<br />[#] milking-pail.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>In hair'st, at the shearing, nae youths now are jeering,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The bandsters[#] are runkled,[#] and lyart[#] or gray;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>At fair, or at preaching, nae wooing, nae fleeching;[#]</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] sheaf-binders. +<br />[#] wrinkled. +<br />[#] inclining to grey. +<br />[#] coaxing.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>At e'en, in the gloaming, nae younkers are roaming</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>'Bout stacks with the lasses at bogle to play;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>But ilk maid sits dreary, lamenting her deary—</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Dool and wae for the order, sent our lads to the Border!</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The English, for ance, by guile wan the day:</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>The Flowers of the Forest, that fought aye the foremost,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The prime of our land, are cauld in the clay.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>We'll hear nae mair lilting at the ewe-milking;</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Women and bairns are heartless and wae:</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Sighing and moaning on ilka green loaning—</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>JEAN ELLIOT (1727-1805).</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The following poem also gives eloquent and touching +expression to the deep gloom which descended upon +the Border after the fatal battle, and tells of the despair +felt in almost every Ettrick home:—</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold">SELKIRK AFTER FLODDEN</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span>(A WIDOW'S DIRGE, OCTOBER 1513)</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>It's but a month the morn</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Sin' a' was peace and plenty;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Oor hairst was halflins shorn,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Eident men and lasses denty.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>But noo it's a' distress—</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Never mair a merry meetin ';</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>For half the bairns are faitherless,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And a' the women greetin'.</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>O Flodden Field!</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Miles and miles round Selkirk toun,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Where forest flow'rs are fairest,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Ilka lassie's stricken doun,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Wi' the fate that fa's the sairest.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>A' the lads they used to meet</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>By Ettrick braes or Yarrow</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Lyin' thrammelt head and feet</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>In Brankstone's deadly barrow!</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>O Flodden Field!</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Frae every cleuch and clan</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The best o' the braid Border</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Rose like a single man</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>To meet the royal order.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Oor Burgh toun itsel'</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Sent its seventy doun the glen;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Ask Fletcher[#] how they fell,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Bravely fechtin', ane to ten!</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>O Flodden Field!</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] This was the man who brought an English flag back to Selkirk +from Flodden. Four brothers of that name are said to have perished +in the battle.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Round about their gallant king,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For country and for croun,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Stude the dauntless Border ring,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Till the last was hackit doun.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>I blame na what has been—</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>They maun fa' that canna flee—</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>But oh, to see what I hae seen,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>To see what now I see!</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>O Flodden Field!</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>The souters a' fu' croose,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>O'er their leather and their lingle,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Wi' their shoon in ilka hoose,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Sat contentit round the ingle.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Noo there's naething left but dool,—</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Never mair their work will cheer them;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>In Flodden's bluidy pool</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>They'll neither wait nor wear them!</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>O Flodden Field!</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Whar the weavers used to meet,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>In ilka bieldy corner,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Noo there's nane in a' the street,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Savin' here and there a mourner,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Walkin' lonely as a wraith,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Or if she meet anither,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Just a word below their braith</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>O' some slauchtered son or brither!</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>O Flodden Field!</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>There stands the gudeman's loom</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>That used tae gang sae cheerie,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Untentit noo, and toom,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Makin' a' the hoose sae eerie,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Till the sicht I canna dree;</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For the shuttles lyin' dumb</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Speak the loudlier to me</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>O' him that wunna come.</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>O Flodden Field!</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Sae at nicht I cover't o'er,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Just to haud it frae my een,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>But I haena yet the pow'r</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>To forget what it has been;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And I listen through the hoose</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For the chappin o' the lay,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Till the scrapin' o' a moose</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Tak's my very braith away.</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>O Flodden Field!</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Then I turn to sister Jean,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And my airms aboot her twine,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And I kiss her sleepless een,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For her heart's as sair as mine,—</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>A heart ance fu' o' fun,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And hands that ne'er were idle,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Wi' a' her cleedin' spun</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Against her Jamie's bridal.</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>O Flodden Field!</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Noo we've naether hands nor hairt—</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>In oor grief the wark's forgotten,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Though it's wantit every airt,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And the craps are lyin' rotten.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>War's awsome blast's gane bye,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And left a land forlorn;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>In daith's dool hairst they lie,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The shearers and the shorn.</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>O Flodden Field.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Wi' winter creepin' near us,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>When the nichts are drear and lang,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Nane to help us, nane to hear us,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>On the weary gate we gang!</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Lord o' the quick an' deed,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Sin' oor ain we canna see,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>In mercy mak gude speed,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And bring us whar they be,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Far, far, frae Flodden Field!</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>"J. B. Selkirk" (JAMES B. BROWN).</span></div> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">By permission of W. Cuthbertson, Esq.</em></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Another lyric, relating to the fatal battle of Flodden, +refers to the gallantry of the Souters, or shoemakers of +Selkirk, who, to the number of eighty, and headed by +their town-clerk, joined the army as it entered England. +They distinguished themselves greatly, and few returned. +The "yellow and green" are the liveries of the house +of Home, taxed by some with being the cause of the +defeat.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold">THE SOUTERS OF SELKIRK</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Up wi' the Souters of Selkirk,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And doun wi' the Earl of Home;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And up wi' a' the braw lads</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>That sew the single-soled shoon.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Fye upon yellow and yellow,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And fye upon yellow and green,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>But up wi' the true blue and scarlet,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And up wi' the single-soled sheen.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Up wi' the Souters of Selkirk,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For they are baith trusty and leal;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And up wi' the men o' the Forest,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And doun wi' the Merse to the deil.</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>In Aytoun's "Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers," the +following well-known poem tells how the news of the +disaster at Flodden Field was received in Edinburgh:—</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold">EDINBURGH AFTER FLODDEN</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span>I</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>News of battle! news of battle!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Hark! 'tis ringing down the street:</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And the archways and the pavement</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Bear the clang of hurrying feet.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>News of battle! Who hath brought it?</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>News of triumph! Who should bring</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Tidings from our noble army,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Greetings from our gallant King?</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>All last night we watched the beacons</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Blazing on the hills afar,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Each one bearing, as it kindled,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Message of the opened war.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>All night long the northern streamers</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Shot across the trembling sky:</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Fearful lights that never beckon</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Save when kings or heroes die.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span>II</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>News of battle! Who hath brought it?</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>All are thronging to the gate;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"Warder—warder! open quickly!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Man—is this a time to wait?"</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And the heavy gates are opened;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Then a murmur long and loud,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And a cry of fear and wonder</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Bursts from out the bending crowd.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>For they see in battered harness</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Only one hard-stricken man;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And his weary steed is wounded,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And his cheek is pale and wan.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Spearless hangs a bloody banner</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>In his weak and drooping hand—</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>God! can that be Randolph Murray,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Captain of the city band?</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span>III</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Round him crush the people, crying,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"Tell us all—oh, tell us true!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Where are they who went to battle,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Randolph Murray, sworn to you?</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Where are they, our brothers—children?</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Have they met the English foe?</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Why art thou alone, unfollowed?</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Is it weal, or is it woe?"</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Like a corpse the grisly warrior</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Looks from out his helm of steel;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>But no word he speaks in answer—</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Only with his armèd heel</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Chides his weary steed, and onward</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Up the city streets they ride;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Fathers, sisters, mothers, children,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Shrieking, praying by his side.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"By the God that made thee, Randolph!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Tell us what mischance hath come."</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Then he lifts his riven banner,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And the asker's voice is dumb.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 63%" id="figure-153"> +<span id="tell-us-alloh-tell-us-true"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""*Tell us all—oh, tell us true!*"" src="images/img-126.jpg" /> +<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> +<span class="italics">"</span><em class="italics">Tell us all—oh, tell us true!</em><span class="italics">"</span></div> +</div> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span>IV</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>The elders of the city</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Have met within their hall—</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The men whom good King James had charged</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To watch the tower and wall.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"Your hands are weak with age," he said,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"Your hearts are stout and true;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>So bide ye in the maiden town,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>While others fight for you.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>My trumpet from the Border-side</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Shall send a blast so clear,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>That all who wait within the gate</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>That stirring sound may hear.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Or, if it be the will of Heaven</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>That back I never come,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And if, instead of Scottish shout,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Ye hear the English drum,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Then let the warning bells ring out,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Then gird you to the fray,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Then man the walls like burghers stout,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And fight while fight you may.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>'Twere better that in fiery flame</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The roofs should thunder down,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Than that the foot of foreign foe</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Should trample in the town!"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span>V</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Then in came Randolph Murray,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>His step was slow and weak,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And, as he doffed his dinted helm,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The tears ran down his cheek:</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>They fell upon his corslet</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And on his mailed hand,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>As he gazed around him wistfully,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Leaning sorely on his brand.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And none who then beheld him</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>But straight were smote with fear,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>For a bolder and a sterner man</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Had never couched a spear.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>They knew so sad a messenger</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Some ghastly news must bring;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And all of them were fathers,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And their sons were with the King.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span>VI</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And up then rose the Provost—</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>A brave old man was he,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Of ancient name, and knightly fame,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And chivalrous degree.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He ruled our city like a Lord</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Who brooked no equal here,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And ever for the townsmen's rights</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Stood up 'gainst prince and peer.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And he had seen the Scottish host</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>March from the Borough muir,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>With music-storm and clamorous shout,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And all the din that thunders out</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>When youth's of victory sure.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>But yet a dearer thought had he;—</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>For, with a father's pride,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He saw his last remaining son</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Go forth by Randolph's side,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>With casque on head and spur on heel,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>All keen to do and dare;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And proudly did that gallant boy</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Dunedin's banner bear.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Oh! woeful now was the old man's look,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And he spake right heavily—</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"Now, Randolph, tell thy tidings,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>However sharp they be!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Woe is written on thy visage,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Death is looking from thy face;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Speak! though it be of overthrow—</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>It cannot be disgrace!"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span>VII</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Right bitter was the agony</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>That wrung that soldier proud;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Thrice did he strive to answer,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And thrice he groaned aloud.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Then he gave the riven banner</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To the old man's shaking hand,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Saying—"That is all I bring ye</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>From the bravest of the land!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Ay! ye may look upon it—</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>It was guarded well and long,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>By your brothers and your children,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>By the valiant and the strong.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>One by one they fell around it,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>As the archers laid them low,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Grimly dying, still unconquered,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>With their faces to the foe.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Ay! ye may well look upon it—</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>There is more than honour there,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Else, be sure, I had not brought it</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>From the field of dark despair.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Never yet was royal banner</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Steeped in such a costly dye;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>It hath lain upon a bosom</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Where no other shroud shall lie.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Sirs! I charge you, keep it holy;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Keep it as a sacred thing,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>For the stain ye see upon it</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Was the life-blood of your King!"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span>VIII</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Woe and woe and lamentation!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>What a piteous cry was there!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Widows, maidens, mothers, children,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Shrieking, sobbing in despair!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Through the streets the death-word rushes,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Spreading terror, sweeping on.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"Jesu Christ! our King has fallen—</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>O Great God, King James is gone!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Holy mother Mary, shield us,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Thou who erst did lose thy Son!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>O the blackest day for Scotland</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>That she ever knew before!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>O our King—the good, the noble,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Shall we see him never more?</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Woe to us, and woe to Scotland!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>O our sons, our sons and men!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Surely some have 'scaped the Southron,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Surely some will come again!"</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Randolph Murray describes how the monarch lies +dead on the field with his nobles round him.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"All so thick they lay together,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>When the stars lit up the sky,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>That I knew not who were stricken,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Or who yet remained to die."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>A hollow knell is rung and the miserere is sung, +and all is terror and disorder until the Provost rouses +them.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"If our King be taken from us,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>We are left to guard his son.</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>* * * * *</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Up! and haste ye through the city,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Stir the burghers stout and true!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Gather all our scattered people,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Fling the banner out once more—</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Randolph Murray! do thou bear it,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>As it erst was borne before:</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Never Scottish heart will leave it,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>When they see their monarch's gore!"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="graeme-and-bewick"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXI</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Graeme and Bewick</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Good Lord Graeme and Sir Robert Bewick were +friends. They met one day in Carlisle, and +went arm in arm to the wine, and, as was too +oft the custom of these days, they stayed and drank till +they were both merry. Good Lord Graeme took up the +cup. "Sir Robert, and here's to thee!" he said, "and +here's to our two sons at home, for they like us best in +our own country."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"O were your son a lad like mine," answered Bewick, +boastfully, "and learnt some books that he could read, +they might be two brothers in arms, and lord it over the +Borderside.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>'But your son's a lad, and he's but bad,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And billie[#] to my son he cannot be.'</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Comrade, or brother-in-arms.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<p class="pnext"><span>You sent him to school, and he would not learn; you +bought him books, and he would not read!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Graeme called angrily for the reckoning. "My +blessing shall he never earn," said he, "till I see how his +arm can defend his head." He threw down a crown, +and went to the stable, took his horse, and rode home. +"Welcome, my old father," said his son, Christie Graeme, +"but where were ye so long from home?" "I have +been at Carlisle town, and a shamed man I am by thee," +answered his father with a black look; "I have been at +Carlisle town, where Sir Robert Bewick met me. He +says you are but a bad, wild youth, and can never be +billie to his boy. I sent you to the school, and you would +not learn. I bought you books, and you would not read; +therefore you shall never have my blessing till I see +you save your head in fight with young Bewick." "Now +God forbid, my old father, that ever such a thing should +be! Billie Bewick was my master, and I his scholar, in +spite of the pains he wasted in teaching me." "O hold +thy tongue, thou foolish lad! If thou dost not soon end +this quarrel, there's my glove, I'll fight with thee myself."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then Christie Graeme stooped low. "Father, put on +your glove again, the wind has blown it from your hand."</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"What's that, thou sayst, thou limmer loon?</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>How darest thou stand to speak to me?</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>If thou do not end this quarrel soon,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>There's my right hand, thou'lt fight with me!"</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Then went Christie to his chamber, to consider what +should happen. Should he fight with his own father, or +with his brother-in-arms, Bewick?</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"If I should kill my billie dear,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>God's blessing I shall never win;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>But if I strike at my auld father,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I think 'twould be a mortal sin.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>But if I kill my billie dear</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>It is God's will, so let it be;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>But I make a vow, ere I go from home,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>That I shall be the next man's die."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>He put a good old jack or quilted doublet on his back, +and on his head he put a cap of steel, and well did he +become them with his sword and buckler by his side!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Now young Bewick had taken his father's sword under +his arm, and walked about his father's close. He looked +between himself and the sun, to see some approaching +object, and was aware of a man in bright armour, riding +that way most hastily.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"O who is yon, that comes this way,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>So hastily that hither came?</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I think it be my brother dear,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I think it be young Christie Graeme.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Your welcome here, my billie dear,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And thrice you're welcome unto me."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Christie explained that he was come to fight, that his +father had been to Carlisle, and had met with the elder +Bewick. He retailed what had passed, "and so I'll never +earn my father's blessing, till he sees how my arm can +guard my head in fight against thee."</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"O God forbid, my billie dear,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>That ever such a thing should be!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>We'll take three men on either side,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And see if we can our fathers agree."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Christie shook his head. He knew that it was useless. +"O hold thy tongue, billie Bewick. If thou'rt a man, as +I'm sure thou art, come over the dyke and fight with me."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"But I have no harness, billie, as I see you have."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"As little harness as is on your back shall be on mine."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>With that Christie threw off his coat of mail and cap of +steel, stuck his spear into the ground, and tied his horse +up to a tree. Bewick threw off his cloak, and cast aside +his psalter book. He laid his hand upon the dyke, and +vaulted over. The two fought for two long hours. The +sweat dropped fast from them both, but not a drop of +blood could be seen to satisfy the requirements of honour. +At last Graeme hit Bewick under the left breast, and he +fell to the ground wounded mortally.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Rise up, rise up, now, billie dear,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Arise and speak three words to me!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Whether thou's gotten thy deadly wound,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Or if God and good leeching[#] may succour thee?"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Doctoring.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Bewick groaned. "Get to horse, billie Graeme, and +get thee hence speedily. Get thee out of this country—that +none may know who has done this." "O have I +slain thee, billie Bewick? But I made a vow, ere I +came from home, that I would be the next man to +die!" Thereupon he pitched his sword hilt downwards into a +mole-hill, took a run of some three and twenty feet, and +on his own sword's point he fell to the ground dead.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then up came Sir Robert Bewick. "Rise up, my +son," he said, "for I think you have got the victory."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"O hold your tongue, my father dear. Let me be +spared your prideful talking. You might have drunken +your wine in peace, and let me and my billie be! Go +dig a grave, both wide and deep, and a grave to hold us +both; but lay Christie Graeme on the sunny side, for +full sure I know that the victory was to him."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Alas," cried old Bewick, "I've lost the liveliest +lad that ever was born unto my name." "Alas," quoth +good Lord Graeme, "my loss is the greater.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>'I've lost my hopes, I've lost my joy,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I've lost the key, but and the lock;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I durst have ridden the world around,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Had Christie Graeme been at my back!'"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="the-song-of-the-outlaw-murray"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Song of the Outlaw Murray</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Word is gone to our noble king,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>In Edinburgh where that he lay,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>That there was an Outlaw in Ettrick Forest</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Counted him nought, nor all his Court so gay."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The King mentioned in the ballad is supposed +to have been either James IV. or James V. +This places the date somewhere in the early +part of the sixteenth century.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The Outlaw Murray and his lady kept royal state in +Ettrick Forest. Here he lived with five hundred men, +all gaily clad in livery of Lincoln green. His castle, +built of lime and stone, stood fair and pleasantly in the +midst of the Forest, surrounded by pine trees under +which wandered many a hart and hind, many a doe and +roe and other wild creatures. In the forefront of the +castle stood two unicorns, with the picture of a knight +and lady with green holly above their brows.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The King in Edinburgh heard of all this royal state +and that the Outlaw in Ettrick Forest cared nought for +the King of Scotland and his court.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"I make a vow," said the King, "that either I shall be +King of Ettrick Forest, or the Outlaw shall be King of +Scotland."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then up spoke Lord Hamilton to the noble King, "my +sovereign prince, take counsel of your nobles and of me. +I counsel ye to send to the fine Outlaw and see if he will +come and be your man and hold the Forest in fee from +you. If he refuse, we will conquer both him and his +lands, throw his castle down, and make a widow of his +gay lady."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then the King called to him James Boyd, son of the +Earl of Arran, and when Boyd came and knelt before him, +"Welcome, James Boyd," said the noble King; "you +must go for me to Ettrick Forest where bides yonder +Outlaw, ask him of whom he holds his lands, and who is +his master, and desire him to come and be my man, and +hold the Forest free from me. I will give him safe +warrant to and from Edinburgh, and if he refuse we will +conquer him and his lands, and throw down his castle, +and make a widow of his gay lady; and hang his merry +men pair by pair wherever we see them."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>James Boyd took leave of the King and went blithely +on his way, until he came to the fair Ettrick Forest, the +first view of which he got coming down Birkendale Brae. +He saw the doe and roe, the hart and hind and wild +beasts in plenty, and heard blows ringing boldly, and +arrows whizzing near by him.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>He saw, too, the fair castle, the like of which he had +never seen before, with the two gay unicorns on the +forefront, and the picture of the knight and lady with the +green holly above their brow.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then he spied the five hundred men, all clad in livery +of Lincoln green, and shooting with their bows on +Newark Lee. In the midst of them was a knight armed +from head to foot, mounted on a milk-white steed, with +bended bow, all fine to look upon; whom Boyd knew +at once to be the Outlaw himself.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"God save thee, brave Outlaw Murray, thy lady, and +all thy chivalry!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Marry, thou art welcome, gentleman; thou seemst +to be a King's messenger."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"The King of Scotland sent me here, good Outlaw, +to know of whom you hold your lands, and who is your +master."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"These lands are </span><em class="italics">mine</em><span>. I know no King in +Christendom. I won this Forest from the English when +neither the King nor his knights were there to see."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"The King desires that you come to Edinburgh, and +hold the Forest then of him. If you refuse, he will +conquer your lands and you, and he has vowed to throw +down your castle, make a widow of your gay lady, and +hang your knights pair by pair wherever he finds them."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, by my troth! I should indeed be far behind. +Before the King should get my fair native land, many of +his nobles would be cold, and their ladies right weary."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then spoke the lady of the Outlaw, fair of face. +"That an Outlaw should come before the King without +my consent makes me fear much that there is treason. +Bid him be good to his lords at home, for my lord shall +ne'er see Edinburgh."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>James Boyd took leave of the bold Outlaw and went +back to Edinburgh, and when he came to the King, knelt +lowly on his knee.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Welcome, James Boyd," said the noble King, "of +whom is Ettrick Forest held?"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Ettrick Forest is the fairest forest that ever man +saw. There are doe and roe and hart and hind and wild +beasts in plenty; there's a fine castle of lime and stone +standing there pleasantly, and in the forefront of the +castle two unicorns all fine to see, with a picture of a +knight and a lady, and the green holly above their +brows. There the Outlaw keeps a royal company—five +hundred merry men, all gaily clad in Lincoln green, and +the Outlaw and his lady in purple. Surely they live +right royally. He says that the forest is his own, that +he won it from the English, and that as he won it, so will +he keep it against all the Kings in Christendom."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Go warn me Perthshire and Angus," cried the +King, "go warn Fife up and down and the three Lothians, +and harness my own horse, for I will myself to Ettrick +Forest."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When the Outlaw heard that the King was coming to +his country to conquer him and his lands:</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"I make a vow," said he. "I make a vow, and that +truly, that the King's coming shall be a dear one."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then he called messengers and sent them in haste +hither and thither.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"One of you go to Halliday, Laird of Corehead, my +sister's son. Tell him to come quickly to my aid, for that +the King comes to Ettrick Forest, and we shall all be +landless."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"What news? What news, man, from thy master?" +said Halliday.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"No news thou carest to hear; I come seeking your +aid; the King is his mortal enemy."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"By my troth, I am sorry for that; if Murray lose +fair Ettrick Forest, the King will take Moffatdale from +me. I'll meet him with five hundred men, and more if +need be, and before he gets to Ettrick Forest, we will all +die on Newark Lee."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Another messenger went from the Outlaw to Andrew +Murray of Cockpool, his dear cousin, to desire him to +come and help him with all the power he could get together.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"It is hard," said Andrew Murray, "very hard to go +against a crowned King and put my lands in jeopardy; +but if I come not by day I shall be there at night."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>A messenger went also to Sir James Murray of +Traquair.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"What news? What news, man, from your master +to me?" said James Murray.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"What need I tell? Well ye know that the King is +his mortal enemy and that he is coming to Ettrick Forest +to make ye all landless men."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"By my troth," said James Murray, "with yonder +Outlaw will I live and die; the King has long ago given +away my lands, so matters can be no worse for me."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So the King came on with five thousand men through +Caddon Ford. They saw the dark forest before them +and thought it awesome to look upon, and Lord Hamilton +begged that the King should take counsel of his nobles +and should desire the Outlaw to meet him at Permanscore +with four of his company and that the King should +go there also accompanied by five Earls. "If he refuse +to do that, we'll conquer both him and his lands; there +shall never a Murray after him hold lands free in Ettrick +Forest."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird of Buckscleuth, a man stalwart and stern, +thought it beneath the state and dignity of a King to +go and meet an Outlaw. "The man that lives in yonder +forest, lives by robbery and felony! wherefore, ride on, +my liege; we will follow thee with fire and sword; or if +your courtier lords fall back, our Borderers will make the +onset."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But the King spoke forth, casting a wily glance +around. "Thou mayest hold </span><em class="italics">thy</em><span> tongue, Sir Walter +Scott, nor speak more of robbery and felony, for if every +honest man had his own cattle thy clan would be a poor +one."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The King then called to him a gentleman, a royal +banner-bearer, James Hoppringle of Torsonse by name, +who came and knelt before him. "Welcome, James +Pringle of Torsonse, ye must take a message for me; go to +yonder Outlaw Murray, where he bideth so boldly; bid +him meet me at Permanscore with four of his company, +I myself will come to him with five Earls. If he +refuse, bid him look for no favour from me. There shall +never a Murray after him have free land in Ettrick Forest."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So James Pringle came before the Outlaw. "Welcome +James Pringle of Torsonse! What message bringst thou +from the King to me?"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"He bids ye meet him at Permanscore, with four of +your company, and he will go there himself with no more +than five Earls. If you refuse, he will cast down your +bonny castle, make a widow of your gay lady, and loose +on you the bloodhound Borderers to harry you with fire +and sword. Never shall a Murray after you hold free +land in Ettrick Forest."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"It goes hard with me," said the Outlaw; "judge if it +go not very hard. I mind not the losing of myself, but +when I think of my offspring after me, my merry men's +lives, my widow's tears, that is the pang that pinches +me. Yonder castle will be right dreary when I am laid +in bloody earth. Auld Halliday, young Halliday, ye +two shall go with me, with Andrew and James Murray."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When they came before the King they fell on their +knees. "Mercy, mercy, noble King, for His sake who +died on the Cross."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Such mercy shall ye have; ye shall be hanged on the +gallows."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"May God forbid, and may your mercy be better than +that, else, when ye come to the port of Edinburgh, ye +shall be thinly guarded. These lands of fair Ettrick +Forest I won from the Southrons, and as I won them +so will I keep them, against all the Kings in +Christendom."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The nobles round the King thought it a pity that he +should die.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Grant me mercy, sovereign prince, and extend me +favour. If thou wilt make me Sheriff of Ettrick Forest, +and my offspring after me, I will give thee the keys of +my castle, and the blessing of my gay lady."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"If thou wilt give me thy castle keys and the blessing +of thy gay lady, I'll make thee Sheriff of Ettrick Forest +as long as the trees grow upward, and never shalt thou +forfeit it, if thou be not a traitor to the King."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"But Prince, what shall become of my men? When +I go back they will call me traitor. I had rather lose +both life and land than be rebuked by my merry-men."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"I will pardon them all if they amend their lives. +Name thy lands where they lie, and I will render them +back to thee."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Philiphaugh and Lewinhope are mine by right, +Newark, Foulshiells and Tinnies I won by my bow and +arrow. I have farms at Newark Lee and Hangingshaw +which are mine by birth, and I have many farms in the +Forest whose names I do not know." Thereupon he +gave the King the key of his castle, with the blessing of +his fair lady, and the King made him Sheriff of Ettrick +Forest for as long as the trees should grow upward, +never to be forfeited while he and his descendants +remained faithful to the King. Much of this land belongs +to Murray's heirs, even to this day.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Wha ever heard in, in ony times,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Sicken an outlaw in his degré,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Sic favour got befor a King,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>As did the Outlaw Murray of the Foreste free?"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="johnie-armstrong"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXIII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Johnie Armstrong</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"When Johnie came before the King,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>With all his men so brave to see,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The King he moved his bonnet to him;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He knew he was a King as well as he."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>In 1529 James V. visited the Border country to +execute justice on the wild freebooters. +Of these the chief was Johnie Armstrong of +Gilnockie, who levied blackmail for many miles round his +residence at the Hollows, and spread the terror of his +name as far as Newcastle. Acting on the evil counsel +of false friends, Johnie presented himself before the +King in all the pomp of Border chivalry.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>According to the old ballad the King wrote with his +own hand a loving letter to Johnie Armstrong, Laird of +Gilnockie, bidding him come and speak with him speedily. +Whereupon the Elliots and Armstrongs convened a +meeting, to which they came in gallant company, and +decided to ride out to meet the King and bring him to +Gilnockie.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Make ready rabbits and capon and venison in +plenty," said Johnie, "and we'll welcome home our +royal King to dine at Gilnockie."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So they ran out their horses on Langholm Down, and +broke their spears, and the ladies, looking from their +high windows, cried "God send our men safe home again."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When Johnie came before the King with all his brave +fellows, the King took off his bonnet to him as to an +equal.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"My name is Johnie Armstrong," said the freebooter, +"your subject, my liege; let me find grace for my loyal +men and me."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But the King cried, "Away with thee, thou traitor, +out of my sight! Never have I granted a traitor's life, +nor will I now begin with thee!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Grant me my life, my King, and I will give thee a +bonnie gift—four-and-twenty milk-white steeds, newly +foaled—I'll give thee four-and-twenty milk-white steeds +that prance and neigh at a spear, and as much English +gold as four of their broad backs are able to bear."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Away with thee, thou traitor, out of my sight! +Never have I granted a traitor's life, nor will I now begin +with thee!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Grant me my life, my King, and I will give thee a +bonnie gift—four-and-twenty mills that are working all +the year round for me—four-and-twenty mills that shall +go for thee all the year round, and as much good red +wheat as all their happers are able to bear."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Away with thee, thou traitor, out of my sight! +Never have I granted a traitor's life, nor will I now begin +with thee!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Grant me my life, my King, and I will give thee a +great gift—four-and-twenty sisters' sons shall fight for +thee though all should flee."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Away with thee, thou traitor, out of my sight! +Never have I granted a traitor's life, nor will I now begin +with thee!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Grant me my life, my King, and I will give thee a +brave gift. All between here and Newcastle town shall +pay thee yearly rent."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Away with thee, thou traitor, out of my sight! +Never have I granted a traitor's life, nor will I now begin +with thee!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Ye lie, calling me traitor; ye lie now, King, although +ye be King and Prince. Well dare I say it, that all my +life I have loved naught but honesty, a fleet horse, a +fair woman, and two bonny dogs to kill a deer; yet had +I lived for another hundred years, England should have +still found me meal and malt and plenty of beef and +mutton. Never would a Scot's wife have been able to +say that I robbed her of aught. But surely it is great +folly to seek for hot water beneath cold ice. I have asked +grace of a graceless King, but there is none for me and +my men. But had I known before I came how unkind +thou wouldst prove to me, I would have kept the Borderside +in spite of thee and thy nobles. How glad would be +England's King if he but knew that I was taken, for once +I slew his sister's son and broke a tree over his breastbone."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Now Johnie had a girdle round his waist embroidered +and spangled with burning gold, very beautiful to look +upon, and from his hat hung down nine tassels, each +worth three hundred pounds. "What wants that +knave that a King should have, but the sword of honour +and the crown?" cried the King.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Where did ye get those tassels, Johnie, that shine +so bravely above your brow?"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"I got them fighting in the field where thou darest +not be," replied Johnie. "And had I now my horse and +good harness, and were I riding as I am used to do, this +meeting between us should have been told these hundred +years. God be with thee, my brother Christy, long shalt +thou live Laird of Mangertown on the Border-side ere thou +see thy brother ride by again. God be with </span><em class="italics">thee</em><span>, my son +Christy, where thou sitst on thy nurse's knee; thou'lt +ne'er be a better man than thy father, though thou live +a hundred years. Farewell, bonnie Hall of Gilnockie, +standing strong on Eskside; if I had lived but seven +more years, I would have gilded thee round about."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then Johnie Armstrong was slain by the King's orders +at Carlinrigg with all his gallant company, and Scotland's +heart was sad to see the death of so many brave men, +who had saved their country from the Englishmen. +None were so brave as they, and while Johnie lived on +the Border-side no Englishman durst come near his +stronghold.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="the-lament-of-the-border-widow"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXIV</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Lament of the Border Widow</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>How King James V. of Scotland, in 1529, +set forth to strike terror into the Border +freebooters, has been already told in the +account of Johnie Armstrong. A less celebrated +moss-trooper, Cockburne of Henderland, was hanged +by the pitiless King over the gate of his own tower. +The wife of Cockburne loved him most dearly, and when +she found the King would show no mercy, fled away +to the rocks behind the castle whilst the cruel sentence +was carried out. She sat by a roaring torrent of the +Henderland burn, the noise of which in her ears drowned +the savage shouts of the King's soldiers. The beautiful +song which describes the grief of this loving woman is +one of the gems of ancient poetry, and is here printed +entire.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold">THE LAMENT OF THE BORDER WIDOW</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>My love he built me a bonny bower,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And clad it a' wi' lilye flower,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>A brawer bower ye ne'er did see,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Than my true love he built for me.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>There came a man by middle day,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He spied his sport, and went away;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And brought the King that very night,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Who brake my bower, and slew my knight.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>He slew my knight to me sae dear;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He slew my knight, and took his gear;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>My servants all for life did flee,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And left me in extremitie.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>I sew'd his sheet, making my moan;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I watch'd the corpse, myself alone;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I watch'd his body, night and day;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>No living creature came that way.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>I took his body on my back,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sat;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I digg'd a grave, and laid him in,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And happ'd him with the sod sae green.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>But think na ye my heart was sair,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>When I laid the moul' on his yellow hair;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>O think na ye my heart was wae,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>When I turn'd about, away to gae?</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Nae living man I'll love again,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Since that my lovely knight was slain,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Wi' ae lock of his yellow hair,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I'll chain my heart for evermair.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 64%" id="figure-154"> +<span id="the-border-widow"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""*I sew'd his sheet, making my moan; I watch'd the corpse, myself alone.*"" src="images/img-148.jpg" /> +<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> +<span class="italics">"</span><em class="italics">I sew'd his sheet, making my moan; I watch'd the corpse, myself alone.</em><span class="italics">"</span></div> +</div> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="the-raid-of-the-kers"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXV</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Raid of the Kers</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The spirited ballad that describes this raid is +quite modern, since it was written by Hogg, +"the Ettrick Shepherd," in 1830. But the +rash raid it describes took place in 1549. The Kers were +an important Border family, the leaders of whom +afterwards became Earls of Roxburgh. Sir Andrew Ker was +warden of the Border at the time of the raid, but he +proved that it took place without his consent. The +Kers were all left-handed men, and puzzled their enemies +by their left-handed swordsmanship. Even to-day in +some parts of the borders a left-handed man is called +"Ker-handed."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>On a fine September evening Tam Ker rode out, with +fifty in his company. They were armed for a fight and +their swords were keen; they rode by the Maiden Crags +and down the Osway burn, going carefully till the +daylight closed, for they were soon in Northumberland. +Their bold plan was to get down the valley of the Coquet +even as far as Rothbury where Withrington, the +English warden, kept a magnificent herd of cattle. +They had one castle to pass, that of Biddleston, which +had been held by the Selby family since the reign of +Henry III., and still belongs to them to this day. +Biddleston Castle guarded the Allanton or Alwinton ford, +where the Alwin stream enters the Coquet. So they +sent the reckless Mark Ker first, to scout along by the +ford, and told him to set up marks on the cairns to show +his progress. Having nothing else to mark with, he +tore the shirt off his back, and left strips of it on the +cairns. At the ford a sentry challenged him, and he +answered that he had a message for Withrington. +The sentry demanded his sealed warrant, and the Scot +drew his sword. They fought bravely and long before +the Englishman was killed, and the Scot marvelled that +a common soldier should so withstand him, for he was +the best swordsman of his race. On he galloped, on +and on, till he met a comely maiden, and addressing +her he tried to imitate the Northumberland speech, +saying that he had lost his way. She told him at once +that she knew he was a Scot, but so also was she. She +had been taken captive, but word had came by an +English spy that the Kers were out upon a raid, and +while the English had set a hundred soldiers to guard +their cattle she had slipped away to warn the Scots and +to return with them. Being a gallant after the manner +of that day, he sprang from his horse, kissed her, and +invited her to mount his saddle even if he had to run +beside till he could capture another steed. But an +English soldier came up and warned him roughly off the +road. Mark Ker had been brought up to answer rough +words with rougher blows; out leapt his sword, and he +cut the rude words short by slashing the man's head off. +Then he disguised the maid in the dead man's clothes, +and they retraced their steps that he might warn his +companions. They very soon came upon them, and all +together hid in the lowest dell of the Larbottle burn while +they made their plans. Tam Ker, with twenty of the +men, was to draw off the English, while Mark with +thirty others slipped round and drove off the cattle +unperceived. This was done, and till after midnight, +Tam, aided by the darkness and by the difficulties of +the wild locality, held the English at bay.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then he heard the bugle signal, and knew that Mark +was well on the road with the beasts, and that he must +follow quickly. But Withrington also guessed what the +signal meant, and pursued with all the speed he knew. +Mark had not long crossed the ford at Biddleston before +the English were on him. First Mark and Withrington +fought in single combat, hand to hand, all their men +watching eagerly; it was still very dark, but the +clash of sword against sword lit the air with sparks. +Withrington was badly wounded, but Mark was killed. +With desperate shouts the Scots fell upon the English; +then up came Tam and his men from behind to help the +Scots, but the Captain of Biddleston had also been +awakened, and galloped down with his men to aid the +English. Tam smote his head off with his sword, but +the horse galloped on with his headless body right into +the ranks of the Scots. They thought it must be a demon +and began to scatter in full flight to the Border. Tam +was slain, trying to follow them, and his men, seeing that +they had work enough to gallop for their lives, slew +the cattle they could no longer hope to steal. On and +on the hard-pressed remnant spurred their weary horses. +It was daylight now, and the English along the road +shot arrows at them as they galloped past. Out of +fifty-one hardy, healthy Kers who had started forth +in the raid, only seventeen, weary and wounded, saw +their homes again.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>And back in the south country, the comely Scottish +maiden lay dead across the breast of the gallant Mark, +their hearts' blood mingling in a common stream. Small +wonder that a Scot should make a ballad of the story +and that Borderers should sing it even to this day.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="merrie-carlisle"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXVI</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Merrie Carlisle</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The city of Carlisle stands in the midst of a +beautiful and fertile district with pleasant but +not too steep hills around. In the old days an +easy water-supply was a first essential, and at Carlisle +three rivers meet, the Caldew and the Petterill running +here into the broad stream of the Eden. These +three rivers almost enclose the ground upon which +the city is built, so that it is most probable that +there was an ancient British settlement upon so +advantageous a site, before the Roman invasion. Our +earliest record, however, goes back no further than +Roman days, and it is certain there was then a Roman +city here called </span><em class="italics">Luguvallium</em><span> (the trench of the legion). +Even to-day, when new gas-pipes are being laid in the +ground, it is by no means rare to dig up Roman relics. +The long Roman name became gradually corrupted into +"Luel," or "Liel," and the Britons added their word +"Caer," which means a city, hence "Caer-luel"—an +earlier form of the modern Carlisle. The Roman city +stood, as might be expected, by the great Roman wall, +guarding the spot where the wall crossed the river Eden. +And visitors may see to-day that the centre of Carlisle +consists of a market-place with two main streets leading +therefrom, the usual plan in cities of Roman origin.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Carlisle was destined to have a stormy history. Draw +a line from the Solway eastward, straight through +Carlisle, and it will be seen that here the mainland of +Britain is about at its narrowest, hardly so much as +seventy miles wide, as the crow flies. Note, too, that the +wild hills of the Pennines and the Cheviots fill in most +of this narrow district, and that the mainland of Scotland +strikes sharply off to the west. It is plain from these +facts that Carlisle commands the main road between +Scotland and England, and they provide the reason why +at the present day seven different railways, most of them +important ones, run their trains into Carlisle station. +The very same reason was responsible for the fact +that in the good old times no English town was more +often burnt down by enemies than "Merrie Carlisle."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Even in Roman days, during the reign of Nero, Carlisle +was burnt down at least once by the wild Picts, who +were brave enough to venture against the well-armed +troops of Rome. After the Romans left Britain this +town was one of the strongholds of King Arthur; to +be sure, nothing very definite is known about this +romantic king, but the old ballads tell us that he was +victorious over Gauls, Dacians, Spaniards, and Romans. +This sounds very unlikely to those who do not realise +that when Rome called home her best men for her own +defence she may have left behind many rough soldiers, +of various nations, to guard the wall. Although we know +nothing about King Arthur save what is vague and +legendary, we do know that the Roman legions were +recruited from all the provinces of the empire. +Cumberland had many connexions with King Arthur; within +twenty miles of Carlisle, near Penrith, is a big round +hill called "King Arthur's Table"; while nearer still, +on the Penrith and Carlisle road, is shown the spot where +stood Tearne-Wadling Lake and Castle, where King +Arthur was bewitched and taken prisoner by the "foul, +discourteous knight," only to be released provided one +of his men would consent to marry the hideous lady +with hair like serpents! When at last Sir Gawaine +married this hag for his King's sake, she, of course, +changed at once into a beautiful young woman! This +does not sound very convincing, it is true, but in the old +days many tales just as unlikely were told of famous men. +At any rate the ballad begins with the lilting line:—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"King Arthur lives in merrie Carleile,"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>and all that concerns us at the moment is that perhaps +he really did live there, and did do some very real fighting +along the debateable line of the wall.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>We next learn of Carlisle that King Egfrid of +Northumbria rebuilt the city about the year 675, +wherefore we can only suppose that it had suffered its +somewhat usual fate, perhaps at the hands of that savage +Saxon warrior called The Burner. But in any case, +Carlisle never belonged to the Northumbrians for any +considerable space of time, but was the capital of the +Celtic or Welsh kingdom of Cumbria, from which the +present name of Cumberland is derived.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In 875 the Danes had a turn at pillaging and harrying +Carlisle, which was again in sorry plight. Both Cumbria +and Northumbria were faring very badly in the struggle +between the various kingdoms which then divided up +Britain, and for a while it looked as if the energetic +kings of the Scots would annex both these northern +dominions. But the coming of the strong-handed +Normans altered all this; and by far the most noteworthy +event in the history of Carlisle was the fact that +during 1092 and 1093 William Rufus seized Cumberland, +and for the first time added it definitely to England.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Recognising at once the strength and value of Carlisle, +Rufus caused a strong Norman castle to be built where the +old Roman fort used to stand. To-day, despite the many +rough adventures which have befallen this northern city, +there yet remain portions of William Rufus's castle, +side by side with fragments of the old Roman walls. +Many of the modern buildings put up in King George's +day are crumbling, but the old Norman and Roman +remains are firm as a rock!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The castle was strengthened by King Henry I., but +this did not prevent its seizure in 1135 by King David +of Scotland, who added to it in turn. The Scots held the +keep till 1157, when it was retaken by Henry II., but a +few years later, in 1173, William the Lion, King of +Scotland, besieged it, and for the next fifty years it +changed hands several times, according to the fortunes +of war. It is significant that a main street in the +northern part of Carlisle is called "Scotch Street," +while another in the southern part is called "English +Street!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Edward I. held a parliament here after defeating +Wallace at Falkirk; and it was from Carlisle that this +English King conducted his later operations against +Scotland. It is a pathetic picture, that of this stern +warrior in his old age, on his last march, trying to carry +out his pet scheme of uniting the entire island under +one rule. He was so ill that he had to be carried in a +litter as far as Carlisle. Finding himself again so near +the border, he felt the old fire glow within him, and sprang +upon his horse—but at Burgh-on-Sands, on the shore of +the Solway, whence he could view the goal of his +ambition, the brave King died.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>During the next thirty years Carlisle was frequently +attacked by the Scots, but they were usually defeated. +In 1337, however, they partly, and in 1345 almost +entirely burnt it down. Again in 1380 they burnt part +of what had been rebuilt! Had there been fire insurance +in these wild days, the premiums in Carlisle would have +been heavy!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>After the Wars of the Roses, the city seemed to settle +down somewhat, and was chiefly known on the Border as +the place where Scottish freebooters were hanged if +caught. In one of the Border villages there is a famous +churchyard where of old only the graves of women and +children were to be seen. The explanation was given to +a passing traveller by an old woman, who said that the +men were all buried "in merrie Carlisle," meaning, that +is, that they had all been hanged there!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In 1537 there was a rising in England known as the +"Pilgrimage of Grace," in opposition to the savage policy +of Henry's minister, Thomas Cromwell, and no less than +eighty thousand insurgents are said to have attacked +Carlisle; but after much fighting the rebels were +defeated and seventy-four of their leaders were executed +on the city walls.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When Mary Queen of Scots was imprisoned in Carlisle +in 1568 it was vainly besieged by a force that sought to +rescue her; but less than thirty years afterwards, in 1596, +by a bold stroke of daring, Lord Scott of Buccleuch +succeeded in surprising the castle and in liberating the +well-known freebooter, "Kinmont Willie."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When King James united England and Scotland, the +troubles of Carlisle might have been thought to be over. +But in the civil war between King and Parliament it was +again a storm centre, and was held alternately by each +of the parties.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The last warlike operations against this much-besieged +city were undertaken in 1745, when it was first +taken by Prince Charlie, who made a triumphal entry +without any serious fighting, and afterwards retaken +almost as easily by the cruel Duke of Cumberland, +whose entry into the place was followed, as usual, by a +series of executions.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Among those who suffered was Sir A. Primrose, a +gallant ancestor of the present Lord Rosebery. The +victims were executed, with the cruelties of the old law +against treason, on the celebrated Gallows Hill, at +Harraby, and were buried in nameless graves in the +Kirkyard of St Cuthbert's. Passing down the Botchergate +(the London Road), past the site of the old Roman +cemetery, the wayfarer may see Gallows Hill rise where +a deep cut has been made to avoid a steep rise in the road. +It was just outside the boundary of old Carlisle, and +executions were witnessed from the walls, by men and +women alike. Climb the hill—it is worth while. The +little river Petteril sparkles at our feet; the view, fresh +and green, stretches away nobly to the Pennines and the +Border Hills. Keep a warm thought in your heart for +all the gallant fellows who met death bravely in this +place.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>No history of Carlisle could omit to mention the +Cathedral. English cathedrals are shaped like a cross +lying on the ground; the long stem of the cross is the +</span><em class="italics">nave</em><span> of the cathedral; the two arms are the </span><em class="italics">transepts</em><span>; +and the upper end that continues the main stem is the +</span><em class="italics">choir</em><span>. Where choir, nave and transepts meet, the </span><em class="italics">tower</em><span> +rises. But unlike every other English cathedral, that of +Carlisle has height and width, but is too short in length, +two-thirds of the nave having been hurled down by the +Scots!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Every cathedral has its history written in its stones, +for those who know how to read it. That of Carlisle +shows a stormy history, stormier than any other. It +is not a peaceful building carried out very much in one +style and undisturbed. It is a building full of signs of +disturbance, the builders of which were interrupted in +their plans by war and frequently had their building +seriously damaged by their enemies. It is a mixture of +styles, a mass of re-buildings and afterthoughts, but for +that very reason it is a fitting symbol of the +much-harassed city. With all its signs of storm and stress +it has much beauty, and possesses the finest window in +all England, one of the finest in the world. Just outside +the Cathedral is a noble stretch of the old West Wall of +the city, which gives a vivid idea of its strength in the +old days.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The bishops of Carlisle live at Rose Castle, five miles +south of the Cathedral. This has been their residence +for over six hundred years. No doubt they thought it +advisable not to live in the "merrie city"!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In this castle King Edward I. stayed. It was once +partly burnt by Bruce, and again partly by the Puritans, +but this is a comparatively clean record for such a district! +In 1745 Captain Macdonald and his Scots came down +to besiege it, but hearing that the bishop's baby daughter +was about to be christened, the gallant captain would not +let warfare spoil so peaceful a ceremony, and not only +withdrew his men, but also left a white cockade behind +him as a sign that the place was not to be molested. In +all this he showed that true courtesy that always marks +the real Highland gentleman.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Standing to-day in this bustling, breezy, pleasant little +city, it is not easy to realise the wild scenes it has +witnessed. The charming rivers that hem it in show +no traces of the bloodshed of the past. Yet here have +contended painted Pict and war-trained Roman; here +the most skilful leaders of the Celts, Saxons, and Danes +have led their brave and sturdy men to battle; here +Norman knight has fought with hardy Scot, and fierce +Border factions have wrangled and sought speedy +justice; Puritan has fought Cavalier, and Jacobite +has faced Hanoverian; kings, generals, and warriors of +many centuries have found a fitting meeting-place before +or behind the walls of Carlisle.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>An open, airy, quaint city. There is not very much +that is old in it, for the old was not allowed to stand long +enough! But on the top of its principal hill the tall +truncated Cathedral presents a picturesque figure, and +if we stand there or by the castle the eye commands fine, +ancient walls and very delightful distances. It is a +place of lingering memories, and if these are chiefly +of strife and bloodshed we do not forget that to the +Border folk the city was "Merrie Carlisle."</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="kinmont-willie"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXVII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Kinmont Willie</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"O have ye not heard of the false Sakelde,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>O have ye not heard of the keen Lord Scroope,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>How they have taken bold Kinmont Willie</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>On Haribee to hang him oop?"</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The story of this famous freebooter, William +Armstrong of Kinmonth, belongs to the time +of Queen Elizabeth, when Lord Scroope was +Warden of the Western Marches, and Mr Sakelde of +Corby Castle was his Deputy.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Kinmont Willie was a descendant of the famous Johnie +Armstrong of Gilnockie, and his capture was a violation +of the existing truce between Scroope and Buccleuch, +the Keeper of Liddesdale. Elizabeth was indignant at +Buccleuch's action in rescuing Willie, and as the Scots +at that time were very anxious not to offend her, +Buccleuch was sent to England and came before the +Queen, who asked him how he dared to undertake such +an adventure. "What is it," answered he, "that a +man dare not do?"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"With ten thousand such men," said Elizabeth, turning +to a lord-in-waiting, "our brother of Scotland might +shake the firmest throne of Europe."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The ballad tells of the capture of Kinmont Willie, +and how the false Sakelde and his men treacherously +seized him.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>They bound his legs beneath his horse, and tied his +hands behind his back, and with five men on each side +to guard him, brought him over Liddel ford and through +Carlisle sands to Carlisle castle.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When he arrived there, Willie addressed his captor in +these words:</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"My hands are tied, but my tongue is free. Who will +avow this deed or answer for it to bold Buccleuch?"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Hold thy tongue, thou rank robber! Never a Scot +shall set thee free. Ye shall take farewell of me before +ye cross my castle gate," said Scroope.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Fear ye not that, my lord," answers Willie, "for by +the faith of my body, never did I yet lodge in a hostelry +but that I paid my reckoning before I went."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Word was sent to Branksome Hall to the Keeper of +Liddesdale that Lord Scroope had captured Kinmont +Willie, whereupon the Keeper smote the table with +his hand till the red wine sprang on high, "A curse on my +head," he cried, "if I be not avenged of Lord Scroope. Is +my helmet a widow's cap, or my lance a twig from a +willow-tree, or my fist a lady's lily hand, that an English +lord should appraise me so lightly? Have they taken +Kinmont Willie in spite of the truce, and forgotten that +the bold Buccleuch is Keeper on the Scottish side? +Have they taken Kinmont Willie so fearlessly, and +forgotten that the bold Buccleuch can back a steed and +wield a weapon? Were there but war between the lands, +then would I slight Carlisle Castle though it were built of +marble; I would set it on fire and drench it with English +blood. But since there is peace and not war, I'll set the +Kinmont free yet never harm English lad or lass!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So Buccleuch called forty bold Marchmen, all of his +own name and kin except one, Sir Gilbert Elliot, Laird of +Stobs. They came spur on heel and armour on shoulder, +with gloves of green and feathers of blue. Five and five +came first with hunting-horns and bugles; five and five +more came with Buccleuch like Warden's men arrayed +for battle; five and five came like a gang of masons, +carrying long high ladders; and five and five came like +broken men, and so they reached Woodhouselee.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When they had crossed to the English side, the first +man they met was the false Sakelde.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Where are ye going, ye keen hunters?" quoth Sakelde.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"We go to hunt an English stag that has trespassed +on Scottish ground."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Where are ye going, ye martial men?"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"We go to catch a rank robber that has broken faith +with the bold Buccleuch."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Where are ye going, ye mason lads, with all these +long high ladders?"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"We go to harry a corbie's nest not far from here."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Where are ye going, ye broken men?" said false Sakelde.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But Dickie of Dryhope, leader of the broken men, had +never a word of learning, and answered nothing.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Why trespass ye on the English side? Stand! ye +raw-footed outlaws!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Never a word yet said Dickie, but for answer ran his +lance clean through the body of the false Sakelde.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>On then they went to Carlisle town, crossing the Eden +at Staneshaw-bank, nor lost they either horse or man, +though the water was high in flood.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When they reached Staneshaw-bank the wind was rising, +and the Laird ordered them to leave there their horses +for fear they should stamp and neigh. The wind blew +loudly enough then, but when they came beneath the +castle wall there was wind and rain and flying sleet. On +they crept on their knees and held their breath till they +placed the ladders against the wall. Buccleuch himself +mounted first, took the watchman by the throat and +flung him down upon the leads. "Thou hadst gone on +the other side," said he, "had there not been peace +between our lands."</span></p> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 65%" id="figure-155"> +<span id="the-escape-of-kinmont-willie"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="*The Escape of Kinmont Willie*" src="images/img-162.jpg" /> +<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> +<em class="italics">The Escape of Kinmont Willie</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Sound out the trumpets!" quoth he; "let's wake +up Lord Scroope!" Then loud blew the Warden's +trumpet to the tune of "O wha dare meddle wi' me?"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>To work they went speedily, and cut a hole through +the lead, gaining thus the castle hall.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Those inside thought the castle had been taken by +King James and all his men, yet it was only twenty Scots +and ten that had put a thousand in such a stir. They +hammered and banged at the bars until they came to +the inner prison, where lay Kinmont Willie.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Do ye sleep or wake, Kinmont Willie, on the morn +when ye shall die?"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"O I sleep lightly and wake often; it's long since sleep +was frightened from me. Give my service to my wife +and bairns and all good fellows that enquire after me."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Red Rowan, the strongest man in Teviotdale, lifted +him up. "Stay now, Red Rowan, till I take farewell of +Lord Scroope. Farewell, farewell, my good Lord +Scroope," he cried. "I will pay ye for my lodging +when first we meet on the Border."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>With shout and cry Red Rowan bore him on his +shoulders down the long ladder, the irons clanking at +every stride.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Many a time," said Kinmont Willie, "have I ridden +a horse both wild and unruly, but never have my legs +bestrode a rougher beast than Red Rowan. Many a +time have I pricked a horse over the furrows, but never +since I backed a steed have I worn such cumbrous spurs."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Scarcely had they won the Staneshaw-bank when all +the bells in Carlisle were ringing and Lord Scroope was +after them with a thousand men on horse and on foot. +But—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Buccleuch has turn'd to Eden water</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Even where it flowed frae bank to brim,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And he has plunged in wi' a' his band,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And safely swam them through the stream.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>He turn'd him on the other side,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And at Lord Scroope his glove flung he—</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>'If ye like na my visit to merry England,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>In fair Scotland come visit me!'</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>All sore astonished stood Lord Scroope,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>He stood as still as rock of stane;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>He scarcely dared to trew[#] his eyes,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>When through the water they had gane.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Trust</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>'He is either himsell a devil frae hell,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Or else his mother a witch maun be;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>I wadna have ridden that wan water,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For a' the gowd[#] in Christentie.'"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Gold</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="dick-o-the-cow"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXVIII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Dick o' the Cow</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Fair Johnie Armstrong to Willie did say</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>'Billie, a-riding we will gae.'"</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The ballad of this name, a popular one in +Liddesdale, relates, like that of Kinmont +Willie, to the time when Lord Scroope was +Warden of the West Marches and Governor of Carlisle. +Dick o' the Cow seems to have been his fool or jester. +Dickie, some years after the events described in the +ballad, fell a victim to the vengeance of the Armstrongs.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>There had been no raids from Liddesdale for a +considerable time, and no riding, and the horses had all +grown so fat that they dare scarcely stir out of the stall. +Then fair Johnie Armstrong said to his brother Willie, +"Brother, we will go a-riding. We have long been at +feud with England, and perhaps we shall find some spoil."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So they rode to Hulton Hall and round about it, but +the laird, a wise man, had left neither goods nor cattle +outside to steal, except six sheep in a meadow. Said +Johnie, "I'd rather die in England than take those +six sheep to Liddesdale."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"But who was that man we last met as we came over +the hill?"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, he is an innocent fool, and men call him Dick o' +the Cow."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"That fool has three good cows of his own, as good +as there are in Cumberland. Betide me life or death, +they shall go to Liddesdale with me!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So they came to the house of the poor fool, broke down +his thick wall, loosed his three cows, and took also three +coverlets from his wife's bed.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In the morning at daylight when the loss was +discovered, there were loud lamentations. "Hold thy +tongue, wife," said Dickie, "and stop thy crying. I'll +bring thee back three cows for each one that thou hast +lost."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So Dickie went to Lord Scroope. "Hold thy tongue, +fool," said Scroope. "I have no time for jesting."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"A shame on your jesting, my lord!" said Dickie, +"jesting agrees not with me. Liddesdale was in my +house last night and has taken my three cows. I can +no longer dwell in Cumberland as your poor faithful fool, +unless you give me leave to steal in Liddesdale."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"I give thee leave, fool!" said Scroope; "but thou +speakest against me and my honour unless thou give me +thy hand and pledge that thou wilt steal from none but +those who stole from thee."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"There is my right hand and pledge! May my head +hang on Haribee, and may I never again cross Carlisle +sands if I steal from any man who stole not from me.",</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Dickie joyfully took leave of his lord and master, +and went and bought a bridle and a pair of new spurs +which he packed up in the thigh of his breeches, then he +came on as fast as he could to Pudding-burn house, where +were thirty-three Armstrongs.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"O what has come to me now?" said Dickie, "what +great trouble is this? For here is but one innocent +fool against thirty-three Armstrongs?" Yet he went +courteously up to the Hall board.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Well may ye be, my good Laird's Jock, but the devil +bless all your company. I'm come to complain of your +man, Johnie Armstrong, and of his brother Willie, that +they came to my house last night and took away my +three cows."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Quoth fair Johnie Armstrong, "We'll hang him."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay," said Willie, "we'll slay him."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But up spoke another young Armstrong, "We'll give +him a thrashing and let him go."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then up spoke the good Laird's Jock, the best fellow +in all the company, "Sit down a while, Dickie, and we'll +give thee a bit of thine own cow's thigh."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Dickie's heart was so sore that he could not eat a bit, +but he went and lay down in an old peat-house where he +thought to sleep the night, and all the prayers the poor +fool prayed were, "I wish I had amends for my three +good cows."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Now it was the custom of Pudding-burn house and of +the house of Mangerton, whose laird was chief of the +Armstrong clan, that any who came not to the table at +the first summons got no more meat till the next meal, so +some of the lads, hungry and weary, had thrown the key +of the stable above the door-head. Dickie took good +notice of that to turn it to his own account, went into +the stable where stood thirty-three horses and tied thirty +of them with St Mary's knot, tight to their stalls.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Of the remaining three, Dickie took two, which +belonged to Johnie and Willie Armstrong, and the one +belonging to the Laird's Jock he left loose in the stable. +Leaping on one, he took the other along with him, and +rode off as fast as he could.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When day came, there were great shouts and cries.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Who has done this," quoth the good Laird's Jock; +"see that ye tell me the truth."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"It is Dickie that has been in the stable last night, +and has taken the horses."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Ye never would listen to me," said the good Laird's +Jock, "though I told ye true tales. Ye would never +stay out of England but would steal everything, till ye +were crooked and blind."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Lend me thy bay," said fair Johnie; "he is the only +horse loose in the stable, and I'll either fetch back Dick +o' the Cow, or he shall die."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Lend thee my bay!" said Jock; "he is worth gold +and good money. Dick o' the Cow has taken two horses; +I would not ye make them three."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Johnie, however, took the Laird's steel jacket on his +back, and a two-handed sword by his side, and a steel +cap on his head, and galloped after Dickie, who was +barely three miles from the town when Johnie overtook +him on Cannobie Lee, on the borders of Liddesdale.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Abide, abide, thou traitor thief!" cried Armstrong; +"the day is come that thou shalt die!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Dickie looked over his left shoulder and said, "Johnie, +hast thou no more in thy company? There is a preacher +in our chapel who teaches all the livelong day, and when +day is gone and night has come, there are only three words +I remember—the first and second are Faith and +Conscience—the third is 'Ne'er let a traitor free.' What faith +and conscience was thine, Johnie, when thou tookest away +my three cows? And when thou hadst taken them +away, thou wast not satisfied. Thou sentest thy brother +Willie, and took away three coverlets off my wife's bed!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then Johnie let his spear fall low by his side, and +thought he would have killed Dickie, but the powers +above were stronger than he, and he only succeeded in +running through the fool's jerkin. Dickie out with his +sword and ran after him, and when he could not get at +him with the blade, he felled him with the butt-end over +the eye, felled Johnie Armstrong, the finest man in the +south country. "Gramercy," said Dickie, "I had but +two horses, thou hast made them three!"—and he took +Johnie's steel jacket off his back and his two-handed +sword, and his steel cap. "Farewell, Johnie," said he, +"I'll tell my master I met thee."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When Johnie wakened out of his swoon, he was a sad +man. "Art thou gone, Dickie?" he said. "Then the +shame and woe are left with me. Art thou gone? Then, +Dickie, the devil go in thy company, for if I live to be a +hundred, I'll never again fight with a fool."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Dickie came home to the good Lord Scroope as fast as +he could. "Now, Dickie, I'll neither eat nor drink till +thou art hanged on high." "Shame speed the liars, my +lord," said Dickie, "this was not the promise ye made +me, for I would never have gone to Liddesdale to steal +if I had not got leave from thee." "But why did ye steal +the Laird's Jock's horse? Ye might have lived long in +Cumberland before the Laird's Jock had stolen from thee."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed, I knew ye lied, my lord. I won the horse from +fair Johnie Armstrong hand to hand on Cannobie Lee. +There is the jacket that was on his back, and the +two-handed sword that hung by his side, and the steel cap that +was on his head. I brought all these tokens to show thee."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"If that be true that thou tellest me (and I think thou +durst not lie) I'll give thee fifteen pounds for the horse, all +told out in the lap of thy cloak; I'll give thee one of my +best milk cows to maintain thy wife and three children, +and they will be as good as any two of thine would be."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Shame speed the liars, my lord!" said Dickie. +"Do ye think aye to make a fool of me? I'll either have +twenty pounds for the horse or else I'll take him to +Mortan fair."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So Scroope gave him twenty pounds for the horse, all +in gold and good money, and one of his best milk cows to +maintain his wife and three children.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then Dickie rode as fast as he could through Carlisle +town, and the first man he met was my lord's brother, +Ralph Scroope, Bailiff of Glozenburrie.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Well be ye met, Ralph Scroope!" said Dickie.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Welcome, my brother's fool!" said Ralph. "Where +did ye get Johnie Armstrong's horse?"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Where did I get him? I stole him," said Dickie.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Wilt thou sell me the bonny horse?"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, if thou count out the money in the lap of my +cloak, for never a penny will I trust thee."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll give thee ten pounds for the horse and count it +into the lap of thy cloak, and one of my best milk cows to +maintain thy wife and three children."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Shame speed the liars, my lord! Do ye think aye +to make a fool of me? I'll either have twenty pounds +for the horse, or I'll take him to Mortan fair."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So Ralph gave him twenty pounds for the horse, all in +gold and good money, and one of his milk cows to +maintain his wife and three children.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Then Dickie leaped and laughed, and cried, "May the +neck of the third horse be broken if either of the two were +better than he!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So he came home to his wife and ye may judge how +the poor fool had succeeded. For her three stolen +coverlets he gave her two score English pounds, and two cows +as good as her own three. "And here," said he, "is a +white-footed nag that I reckon will carry us both. But +if I stay longer in Cumberland the Armstrongs will +hang me." So Dickie took leave of his lord and went to +live at Burgh under Stanmuir.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="the-lochmaben-harper"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXIX</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Lochmaben Harper</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The castle of Lochmaben is said to have been +the residence of Robert Bruce while Lord +of Allandale. Hence, as a royal fortress, the +keeping of it was always granted to some powerful lord. +There is extant a grant giving to one of these, Robert +Lauder, the office of Captain and Keeper of Lochmaben +Castle for seven years, and among his perquisites were +"lands stolen from the King"!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The inhabitants of four small villages near the castle +have each still to this day a right to a small piece of +ground. These people are descendants of Robert +Bruce's retainers, to whom he assigned these portions +of land in reward for faithful service, and there are still +to be found some families (</span><em class="italics">e.g.</em><span> the Richardsons of +Lochmaben) who hold their lands direct from the times of +Bruce without a break.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"O heard ye na o' the silly blind Harper,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>How long he lived in Lochmaben town?</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And how he wad gang to fair England,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>To steal the Lord Warden's Wanton Brown?</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>But first he gaed to his gude wyfe,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Wi' a' the haste that he could thole[#]</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>'This wark,' quo' he, 'will ne'er gae well</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Without a mare that has a foal.'</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Suffer.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Quoth his wife, "Thou hast a good grey mare that +can jump both high and low; so set thee on her +back and leave the foal at home with me." Away +went the Harper to England as fast as he might, and +when he came to Carlisle gate, who should be there +but the Warden himself?</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"'Come into my hall, thou silly blind Harper,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And of thy harping let me hear!'</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>'O, by my sooth,' quo' the silly blind Harper,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>'I wad rather hae stabling for my mare."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>The Warden looked o'er his left shoulder,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And said unto his stable groom—</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>'Gae take the silly blind Harper's mare,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And tie her beside my Wanton Brown.'"</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>So the Harper harped and sang, the lordlings danced, +and so sweet was the music that the groom forgot all +about the stable door. Still the Harper harped on till +all the nobles were fast asleep, when he quickly took off +his shoes, crept softly down the stair, and hied with +light tread to the stable door, which he opened and +entered. He found there three-and-thirty steeds. He +took a colt's halter which he had hidden in his hose, +slipped it over Wanton Brown, tied it to the grey mare's +tail, and turned them both loose at the castle gate.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Away they went over moor and moss and dale, and the +mare never let Wanton rest a moment, but kept him +galloping home to her foal. So swift of foot was she, and +knew her way so well, that she reached Lochmaben a +good three hours before daybreak.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When she came to the Harper's door, she neighed and +snorted. "Rise up," shouted the Harper's wife, "thou +lazy lass, and let in thy master and his mare." The lass +rose up, put on her clothes and looked through the +lock-hole. "By my sooth," cried she, "our mare has got a +fine brown foal!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Hold thy tongue, thou foolish wench, the light is +dazzling thine eyes. I'll wager all I have against a groat +that it's bigger than ever our foal will be."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Still in merry Carlisle the Harper harped to high and +low, and nought could they do but listen to him until +day-dawn. But when it was daylight they discovered +that Wanton Brown was gone and also the poor blind +Harper's mare.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Alas! alas!" cried the cunning old Harper, +"alas that I came here; in Scotland I have lost a brown +colt foal and in England they have stolen my good grey +mare."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Cease thy lamenting, thou silly blind Harper, and go +on harping; we'll pay thee well for the loss of thy colt +foal and thou shalt have a far better mare." So the +harper harped and sang, and so sweet were his harpings +that he was paid for the foal he never had lost and +three times over for the gray mare.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="id2"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXX</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Rookhope Ride</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>This Durham border song is supposed to be +spoken by a Weardale man, who begins by +denouncing the inhabitants of the Tyne valley, +"and all their companies there about" as false thieves,</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>"minded to do mischief</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And at their stealing stands not out."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>It must be confessed that the Tynedale men had an +unenviable reputation. They were such lawless +desperadoes, so addicted to rapine, that during more than +two centuries the merchants of Newcastle regularly +refused to take an apprentice born in that district. The +date is December 1572. The rebel Earl of Northumberland, +who had taken up arms for Mary Queen of Scots, +and for the old religion, had been betrayed by the Scots +and beheaded at York. Owing to this rebellion there +was great confusion in the northern counties, hence the +time was well chosen by the "limmer thieves" of +Tynedale to make a predatory raid on their neighbours. +They gathered together the stoutest men of arms and the +best in gear, a hundred or more in number, and in the +forenoon, about eleven o'clock, they came into a +"bye-fell" and stopped for a meal—the last which some of +them would eat. When they had eaten, they chose their +captains, Harry Corbyl, Simon Fell, and Martin Ridley. +Then they rode on over the moss, "with many a brank +and whew," saying to one another that they were men +enough,</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"For Weardale-men have a journey ta'en,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>They are so far out o'er yon fell,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>That some of them's with the two earls,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And others fast in Bernard castell.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>There we shall get gear enough,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For there is nane but women at hame;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>The sorrowful fend that they can make.</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Is loudly cries as they were slain."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>They came in at Rookhope Head, which is the top of +a rocky valley, about five miles long, at the end of which +Rookhope Burn empties itself into the river Wear. This +valley is as wild and open to-day as it was then. In some +four hours they gathered together about six hundred +sheep and they were engaged in "shifting" the horses, +when the hue and cry was raised by one Rowley, whose +horse they tried to take. He was the first man to see +them. The cry spread rapidly down Rookhope burn +and through Weardale, and word came to the bailiff's +house at the East-gate. He was out, but his wife had +his horse saddled and sent it to him, together with his +sword, spear, and jacket quilted with iron plates, the +sort of harness worn by the moss-troopers and other +light horsemen of the time. The bailiff had already +heard the bad news, and was sorely troubled thereby. +His own brother had been attacked three days before by +marauders, and lay sick with nineteen wounds. Yet the +bailiff shrank not at all, but hied fast after the +sheep-stealers, with as many of the neighbours as he could +gather to bear him company.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The pursuers overtook the thieves in Nuketon Cleugh, +and gave them all the fighting they wanted. Not one +of them ever thought to see his wife again. They bore +three banners against the Weardale men, "as if the world +had been all their own." The fray lasted only an hour, +but many a tall man lay weaponless and sore wounded +before that hour was done, and four of the Northumbrian +prickers were slain, including Harry Corbyl whom they +had chosen to be their captain. Eleven of them were +taken prisoners. Only one of the Weardale men fell +but—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"These Weardale-men, they have good hearts,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>They are as stiff as any tree;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>For, if they'd everyone been slain,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Never a foot back man would flee.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And such a storm amongst them fell,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>As I think you never heard the like;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>For he that bears his head on high,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>He oft-tymes falls into the dyke.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And now I do entreat you all,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>As many as are present here,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>To pray for the singer of this song,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For he sings to make blythe your cheer."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="barthram-s-dirge"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXXI</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Barthram's Dirge</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The story of how this ballad came to be +preserved to us is a very interesting one. A +Mr Surtees, who was very interested in the old +ballads, used to give work to a poor old Scotswoman to +weed in his garden. Finding that she had learnt ballads +in her young days, he encouraged her to talk about +them, and this was amongst those which she recited to +him. She told him that it referred to a young man +named Bertram or Barthrum, who made love to a young +lady against the wish of her brothers. The cruel +brothers slew him, but the lady had him buried at the +very spot where he was wont to come to visit her in the +days of their love. Sir Walter Scott thinks that perhaps +Barthram was an Englishman and the lady was Scottish, +and that the anger of the lady's brothers against him +was partly on that account.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>It must be remembered that in those stormy days, +when Border rivalry was keen, and all the Border +chiefs, on both sides, were men of war-like mould, +intermarriage between the two races was punishable by +Border law. Each side felt equally that such mixed +marriages would sooner or later produce a race that +was neither loyal English nor loyal Scotch. A spirit of +aloofness and rivalry was deliberately encouraged, right +up to the time of the union of the two countries under +one king.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold">BARTHRAM'S DIRGE</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>They shot him dead at the Nine-Stone Rig,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Beside the Headless Cross,</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And they left him lying in his blood,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Upon the moor and moss.</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>* * * * *</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>They made a bier of the broken bough,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The sauch and the aspin gray,</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And they bore him to the Lady Chapel,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And waked him there all day.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>A lady came to that lonely bower,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And threw her robes aside,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>She tore her long yellow hair,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And knelt at Barthram's side.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>She bathed him in the Lady-Well,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>His wounds so deep and sair,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And she plaited a garland for his breast,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And a garland for his hair.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>They rowed him in a lily-sheet,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And bare him to his earth,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And the Gray Friars sung the dead man's mass,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>As they pass'd the Chapel Garth.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>They buried him at the mirk midnight,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>When the dew fell cold and still,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>When the aspin gray forgot to play,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And the mist clung to the hill.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>They dug his grave but a bare foot deep,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>By the edge of the Ninestone Burn,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And they covered him o'er with the heather-flower,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The moss and the Lady fern.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>A Gray Friar staid upon the grave,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And sang till the morning tide,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And a friar shall sing for Barthram's soul,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>While the Headless Cross shall bide.[#]</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Mr Surtees observes, on this passage, that in the return made by +the commissioners, on the dissolution of Newminster Abbey, there is +an item of a Chauntery, for one priest to sing daily </span><em class="italics small">ad crucem lapideam</em><span class="small">. +Probably many of these crosses had the like expiatory solemnities for +persons slain there. They certainly did bury, in former days, near the +Ninestone Burn, for Sir Walter Scott found there, lying among the +heather, a small monumental cross, with initials, which he reverently +placed upright.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="queen-mary-and-the-borders"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXXII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Queen Mary and the Borders</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The brief reign of Mary, Queen of Scots, was so +crowded with incident that she was left with +little time to visit the disturbed borderland of +her kingdom. None-the-less her few visits to this district +were fraught with important consequences. In 1565, when +she married her cousin Lord Darnley, the head of the +Douglas faction and a Roman Catholic, the Protestant +nobles took up arms. In her very honeymoon she headed +her soldiers, pursued the rebels to Dumfries, entered +the town with a pistol in each hand, and laughed heartily +at the fun of making her enemies "skip like rabbits" +over the Border. She was only twenty-two years old—a +fearless, dashing, attractive woman, with a clever +head, a strong will, and a wild and lawless disposition.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In the next year she again visited the Border, but on a +very different errand. Mary had developed an extreme +fancy for that bold Border Lord, the Earl of Bothwell, +whose Castle of Hermitage commanded the picturesque +and important valley of the Liddel. The Queen had +given him authority to control the fierce Borderers; and +when the earl was riding out he met the most lawless +of them, Jock Elliot, of whom the couplet—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"My name is little Jock Elliot</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And who dare meddle wi' me?"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Bothwell fired straight at Elliot with his pistol, wounding +him in the leg. Elliot aimed a mighty blow at Bothwell +with his two-handed sword, giving the earl so sore a +wound that he was glad enough to gallop home while +there was yet time to save his life.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Mary was holding solemn court at Jedburgh when +she heard of her favourite's danger. She straightway +took horse and rode to Hermitage, a hard cross-country +ride of twenty miles, through a district infested with +reckless men. When she galloped back to Jedburgh, she +was in high fever and nearly died. Later on, in the +misery of her long imprisonment, she often said, +"Would I had died at Jedburgh!" Years later, a +broken piece of a silver spur was found at Queensmire, +on this difficult and dangerous road, just where Queen +Mary's horse was said to have come to grief.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Yet another time Queen Mary came to the Border, +this time to cross it—after her imprisonment at Lochleven, +her escape, and the disastrous rout of her followers +at Langside. Daring and resourceful as ever, she fled +across the Solway in an open boat; Scotland had failed +her, she sought the protection of England. She landed +at Cockermouth, and was led to Carlisle by Sir +R. Lowther, and kept there, in reality a prisoner, while +Elizabeth was musing of the dangers of the position. +The Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland took +up Mary's cause and attempted to rescue her, but the +Warden of Carlisle, Lord Scroope, defended the town +successfully against the two earls, and they were soon +in flight, eastward for their very lives. After this +attempt at rescue Mary was, for greater safety, sent +down to Bolton Castle in Yorkshire.</span></p> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 64%" id="figure-156"> +<span id="queen-mary-crossing-the-solway"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Queen Mary crossing the Solway" src="images/img-180.jpg" /> +<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> +<span class="italics">Queen Mary crossing the Solway</span></div> +</div> +<p class="pnext"><span>Leonard Dacre, a member of the powerful Cumberland +family of the Dacres, seems to have played a treacherous +part, first promising the earls his help, and then betraying +them to Elizabeth. He seized Nawarth Castle, which +properly belonged to his young niece, and collected +together three thousand men to the old Border war-cry, +"A Red Bull, a Red Bull!" (probably the nickname of +some fierce red-haired Celtic champion). The defeated +earls came to Nawarth for shelter, and Dacre refused to +harbour them. But by this time Elizabeth was +convinced of Dacre's treason, and ordered Lord Hudson, +the Governor of Berwick, to arrest him.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Hudson appears to have marched by rather a round-about +way, for Dacre met him at Geltbridge, on the +west of Nawarth. A bridge is always a good point of +vantage for meeting an enemy, especially when the river +runs, as the Gelt does, through a deep and wooded gorge. +The enemy has only a narrow way by which to approach, +and no doubt Dacre posted his archers behind the trees +and among the great rocks. The fight was a desperate +one, but Hudson's men prevailed and pursued their foes +far up the hill of Gelt, scuffling fiercely among the forest +trees and dyeing a deeper hue the red sandstone cliffs +and quarries.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>All the rebels who could escape fled across the Border +to Scotland, where the Borderers, who were till then +their enemies, received them with that open and fair +hospitality which was one of their many great qualities. +Elizabeth demanded that the leading noblemen should +be given up to her; but although the Scottish Regent, +Murray, made a pretence of trying to secure the Earl of +Westmoreland, the Scots had too much sense of honour +to allow him to proceed.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The Earl of Northumberland, was however betrayed +to the Scottish Regent by Hector Armstrong of Harelaw; +but this the gallant Borderers held to be shameful, and +Armstrong was a ruined man from that day forth.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Two years later, this Earl was actually sold to Elizabeth +and beheaded at York. Thus ended this small rebellion, +called in history the Rising of the North, but which is +known locally in Cumberland as Dacre's Raid.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>There is a little stream which rushes down a deep and +beautiful glade to join the river Gelt above Geltbridge; +this stream is known as "Hellbeck," and villagers tell +us that the reason for this name is that it was stained +with blood for two whole days after some battle that +took place there. This battle is probably the one spoken +of here.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>A wicket gate by Geltbridge leads us to the path +through Gelt woods. The noble gorge is deeply cleft +through the grand red sandstone rocks. Below roars and +dashes the impetuous river; the path winds, sometimes +high, sometimes low, through wonderful weeds, carpeted +with beautiful mosses, gemmed with delightful flowers. +On one of the rocks is an inscription carved by a Roman +soldier, over fifteen hundred years ago. Follow the river, +up, up, till the little Hellbeck is seen trickling down from +the east; cross the little bridge and follow the streamlet +on its opposite bank, along a path so little trod as to be +scarcely visible; wander among ferns along one of the +loneliest glens in the whole of Britain, passing the great +railway bridge (</span><em class="italics">under</em><span> if the stream be low or </span><em class="italics">over</em><span> if it be +high) till you join the main road again. There is no spot +more beautiful or more peaceful. Yet this is the Hellbeck +where men fought and hacked, and slashed and slew, +among these woods, up and down these steep hillsides. +These old trees, when young, have felt warm blood at +their roots; and all because of a young, wild wilful +queen, who fascinated men's hearts then, and the +memory of whom fascinates them still.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="the-raid-of-the-reidswire"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXXIII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Raid of the Reidswire</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"To deal with proud men is but pain,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For either must ye fight or flee,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Or else no answer make again,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>But play the beast, and let them be."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Reidswire, the name of a place about ten miles +from Jedburgh, means the Red Swire. Swire +is an old northern term for the descent of a +hill, and the epithet red may refer to the colour of the +heath.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The affair about which we are to tell took place on the +7th of July 1575, at a meeting held, on a day of truce, +by the Wardens of the Marches, for redressing wrongs and +adjusting difficulties which could not be prevented from +arising upon the Border. The Scottish Warden was Sir +John Carmichael, and among his following were the +Armstrongs and Elliots, Douglas of Cavers (a descendant +of the Douglas who fell at Otterbourne), Cranstoun, whose +ferocious motto was "Ye shall want ere I want," +Gladstain, "good at need," and the ancient head of the +Rutherfoords, called in tradition the Cock of Hunthill, +"with his nine sons him about." The English Warden +was the haughty Sir John Forster, and he had full fifteen +hundred men with him, chiefly Northumbrians, Tynedale, +and Reedsdale men, who looked with scorn upon the +much smaller array of their hereditary foes.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The meeting, however, began meekly enough, with +merriment and jests. Such Border meetings of truce, +though they might wind up in blood, as was to happen +now, always began as occasions of marketing and +revelry. Both parties came fully armed to such a +tryst, yet intermixed in mutual sports and familiar +intercourse,</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Some gaed to drink, and some stood still,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And some to cards and dice them sped."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The Scots planted their pavilions or tents and feared +no ill, even when they saw five hundred Fenwicks (a +powerful Northumbrian clan) "marching in a flock." The +clerk began to call the rolls, and to deal with one +complaint after another for the loss of cows or ewes or +other property. In the course of the proceedings an +accusation was raised against an English freebooter +named Farnstein, at the instance of a Scotch complainant. +A "true bill" was found against the man, which means +that he ought to be handed over to justice. But the +English Warden alleged that he had fled, and could not +be found. Carmichael, considering this as a pretext to +avoid making compensation for the felony, bade the +Northumbrians speak out plainly, and "cloke no cause +for ill nor good." Upon this Sir John Forster, a proud +and insolent man, "began to reckon kin and blood," +by which picturesque phrase the ballad probably means +that he swiftly added up his forces. Then he drew +himself up, backed by his Dalesmen, all fingering their bows, +and with insulting expressions against Carmichael's kin +he bade him "match with his equals." The men of +Tynedale, who only wanted a pretext for a quarrel, drew +their bows and let off a flight of arrows among the Scots. +The more moderate men on both sides at first tried to +quell the tumult, but in vain. The fight was bound to +come.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Then there was naught but bow and spear,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And every man pulled out a brand."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The English showed their usual dexterity with the bow. +The Scots, for some reason, never took to this weapon; +they had fire-arms, pistolets, and the like. The terrible +cloth-yard arrows "from tackles flew," and the old +proverb bade fair to justify itself, that every English archer +carried twenty-four Scots under his belt—an allusion to +his bundle of shafts. Success seemed certain for the +English side; some of the foremost men among the Scots +fell, and even Carmichael was thrown to the ground and +was within an ace of being made a prisoner. The air +resounded with the rallying cries of the English, the +names of their captains, "A Shaftoe! A Shaftoe!" "A +Fenwick! A Fenwick!" The Scots had little +harness among them, only a few had the jack which +served them as a defence for the body. Nevertheless, +they laid about them sturdily, with "dints full dour," +and there was many a cracked crown. Then suddenly a +shout was heard. "Jedburgh's here!" A body of +Jedburgh burgesses appear to have arrived just in the nick +of time to add to the outnumbered force of Scots. They +probably wore armour and what were called "white +hats," that is steel caps. Meanwhile, the English, too +confident of easy victory, instead of slaying more Scots +and turning the repulse into a rout, thought only to +plunder the unhappy merchants, who, trusting to the +truce which had been proclaimed, had attached +themselves to the meeting. Had it not been for the English +greed, the Scots would have been defeated. As it was, +the Tynedale men, throwing themselves on the merchants' +packs, fell into disorder, their adversaries recovered from +their surprise, and the timely arrival of the Jedburgh men +turned the tables. A short, sharp bout ended in the +triumph of the Scots and the Northumbrians fled, +"Down ower the brae, like clogged bees." The Scots +took many prisoners, amongst whom were the English +Warden, and his son-in-law, Sir Francis Russell; but the +most gallant soldier taken that day was that courteous +knight, Sir Cuthbert Collingwood, to whose family +Admiral Collingwood belonged. Several of those +"Fenwicks fierce," who had turned up five hundred +strong at the commencement of the fray, had the +mortification of being carried off in triumph by their +enemies. All these prisoners were sent to the Earl of +Morton, Regent of Scotland, who detained them at +Dalkeith for some days, until the bitter feeling natural +after such an affair had died down, at any rate in part, +and by this prudent precaution the Regent is thought to +have probably averted a war between the two kingdoms. +He ultimately permitted them to return to their own +country, parting from them with great expressions of +regard. The interest taken in the matter by Queen +Elizabeth, and the representations of her Ambassador +at Edinburgh, no doubt had something to do with this +happy issue.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>It will probably occur to the careful reader of this +book as somewhat strange to find the ruling powers of +England and Scotland both so set upon peace; but it +must be remembered that at this period in the reign +of Queen Elizabeth the heir-apparent to the English +throne was the young James VI., King of Scotland, +who would naturally not wish for any quarrel with +the country which he hoped later on to rule. +Elizabeth, on the other hand, had Mary Queen of Scots as +her prisoner, and did not wish in any further way +to strain the already delicate relations between the +two countries.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The Carmichael mentioned in this ballad, known in full +as Sir John Carmichael of Edrom, Scottish Warden of the +Middle Marches, was afterwards murdered by one of the +wild Armstrongs, who is said to have composed, the +night before his execution, the following manly and +pathetic "Good-night." The third and fourth lines +show clearly the disrepute into which this once honoured +clan was falling; the seventh and eighth lines could only +have been written by one who, despite his faults, had +the true gallant instincts deep in his blood.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span>ARMSTRONG'S GOOD-NIGHT</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"This night is my departing night,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For here nae langer must I stay;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>There's neither friend nor foe o' mine,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>But wishes me away.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>What I have done thro' lack of wit,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>I never, never can recall;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>I hope ye're a' my friends as yet;</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Good-night and joy be with you all!"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="jock-o-the-side"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXXIV</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Jock o' the Side</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"He is well kend, John of the Syde,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>A greater thief did never ryde."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The subject of this ballad bears some resemblance +to Kinmont Willie, and such adventures were +not uncommon in those turbulent times. The +events we are to relate originated in a raid ridden by the +famous Liddesdale spearmen (the hardiest of the Scotch +moss-troopers) upon English ground.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"They had better hae staid at home," for the outcome +was that one of their best men, Michael of Winfield, was +killed, and Jock o' the Side, nephew to the Laird of +Mangerton, was taken prisoner, and promptly lodged in +Newcastle Jail. When the news reached Jock's mother +she kilted her coats up to her knee, and ran down the +water with the tears falling in torrents from her eyes. +She ran to Mangerton House, on the banks of the Liddel, +and told her brother, the good old lord, the bad news. +"Michael is killed, and they have taken my son John." "Never +fear, sister," quoth Mangerton, "I have eighty-three +yokes of oxen, my barns, my byres, my folds are all +filled, I'll part with them all ere Johnie shall die." Then +he thought out his plan. "Three men I'll send to set him +free, all harnessed in the best steel; the English loons +shall feel the weight of their broad swords. The Laird's +Jock shall be one, the Laird's Wat two, and Hobbie +Noble, thou must be the third. Thy coat is blue, and +since England banished thee thou hast been true to +me." Now this Hobbie was an Englishman, born in Bewcastledale, +the wildest district in Cumberland. Like numerous +other English outlaws, he had made his own country too +hot to hold him; his misdeeds had banished him to +Liddesdale, and he was now in high favour with the Laird +of Mangerton. The Laird gave the dauntless three +orders to reverse the shoes of their horses, so that anyone +crossing their trail might think they were proceeding in a +contrary direction. He also warned them not to seem +gentlemen, but to look like corn-carriers; not to show +their good armour, nor appear like men of war, but to +be arrayed as country lads, with halter and cart-collar +on each mare. So Hobbie mounted his grey, Jack his +lively bay, and Wat his white horse, and they rode for +Tyne water. When they reached the Tyne they lighted +down at a ford, and by the moonlight they cut a tree, +with fifteen nogs on each side, to serve them as a scaling +ladder, to climb Newcastle wall with. However, when +they came to Newcastle town and alighted at the wall, +their tree proved three ells too short, and there was +nothing for it but to force the gates. At the gate a proud +porter attempted to withstand them. The Armstrongs +wrung his neck, took his life and his keys at once, and +cast his body behind the wall. Soon they reached the +jail, and called to the prisoner,</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Sleeps thou, wakes thou, Jock o' the Side,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Or art thou weary of thy thrall?"</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Jock answered dolefully, "Often I wake, nay, +sleep seldom comes to me—but who's this knows my +name so well?" Then out and spoke the Laird's +Jock, his cousin and namesake, "Now fear ye not, +my billie!" quoth he; "for here are the Laird's Jock, +the Laird's Wat, and Hobbie Noble the Englishman +come to set you free." Jock o' the Side did not think it +possible that they could effect his release. "Now hold +thy tongue, my good cousin," said he. "This cannot be—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>'For if all Liddesdale were here the night,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The morn's the day that I must die.'</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>They have laid full fifteen stone of Spanish iron on me, +I am fast bound with locks and keys in this dark and +dreary dungeon." But the Laird's Jock replied. "Fear +not that; faint heart never won fair lady. Work thou +within, we'll work without, and I'll be sworn we'll set +thee free." They loosed the first strong door without a +key, the next chained door they split to flinders. The +Laird's Jock got the prisoner on his back, irons and all, +and brought him down the stairs with no small speed +and joy. Hobbie Noble offered to bear some of his +weight, but the Laird's Jock said that he was lighter than +a flea. When they had all gone out at the gates, the +prisoner was set on horseback, and they all joked +wantonly. "O Jock," they cried, "you ride like a +winsome lady, with your feet all on one side." The night +was wet, but they did not mind. They hied them on full +merrily until they came to the ford at Cholerford, above +Hexham. There the water was running mountains +high. They asked an old man, "Honest man, tell us in +haste, will the water ride?" "I've lived here thirty +years and three," replied he, "and I never saw the Tyne +so big, nor running so like a sea." The Laird's Wat +counselled them to halt. "We need not try it, the +day is come we all must die!" "Poor faint-hearted +thief!" cried the Laird's Jock. "There'll no man die +but him that's fated; I'll guide you safely through; lift +the prisoner behind me." With that they took to the +water and managed to swim through. "Here we are all +safe," said the Laird's Jock triumphantly. "Poor faint +Wat, what think ye now?" They now saw twenty men +pursuing them, sent from Newcastle, all English lads, +stout and true. But when their leader saw the water he +shook his head. "It won't ride, my lads," said he. +Then he cried to the party of Scots: "Take the prisoner, +but leave me my fetters." But the Laird's Jock was not +a Scot for nothing. "I wat weel no," he shouted back, +"I'll keep them, they'll make horse-shoes for my +mare—for I am sure she's bought them right dear from +thee." Then they went on their way to Liddesdale, as fast as +they could, and did not rest until they had brought the +rescued prisoner to his own fireside, and made him free +of his irons.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="hobbie-noble"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXXV</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Hobbie Noble</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Keep ye weel frae the traitor Mains!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>For gold and gear he'll sell ye a'."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>In the ballad of "Jock o' the Side," we have seen +Hobbie Noble act a distinguished part in the deliverance +from captivity of Jock, cousin of the Laird of +Mangerton, chief of the Armstrong clan. Now in the +following ballad we shall learn how ungrateful the +Armstrongs were for his faithful services. The Armstrongs +were one of those outlawed or broken clans, whose hand +was against every man, and living as they did in what +was called the Debateable Land, on the frontier between +Liddesdale and England, these stark cattle-lifters and +arrant thieves levied tribute from English and Scotch +alike. Halbert or Hobbie Noble was an Englishman, a +Cumbrian born and bred, but his misdeeds were so great, +they banished him never to return, and he established +himself among the Armstrongs. From their territory he +continued his depredations upon the English, in +resentment of which they at length offered a bribe to the +Armstrongs to decoy him into England under pretence of +inviting him to join them in a foray.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"At Kershope foot the tryst was set,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Kershope of the lily lee,"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>and the name of the chief traitor and leader of the gang +was Sim o' the Mains. Hobbie harnessed himself "both +with the iron and with the steel," buckled spur on his +heel and belted brand to his side, leaped upon his +"fringed grey," and rode down the banks of the Liddel. +As soon as he saw the others, "Well be ye met, my +comrades five," he cried. "Now, what is your will with +me?" They all answered, with one consent, "Thou'rt +welcome here, brave Noble; wilt thou ride with us into +England, and we will be thy safe warrant? If we get a +horse worth a hundred pounds thou shalt soon be upon +its back." But Hobbie said that he dared not ride into +England by day, as he had a feud with the Land-Sergeant +(an officer under the Warden, to whom was entrusted the +arrest of delinquents).</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"But will ye stay till the day gae down,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Until the night come o'er the ground,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And I'll be a guide worth any two</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>That may in Liddesdale be found?</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Though the night be black as pitch and tar,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I'll guide ye o'er yon hill so high;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And bring ye all in safety back,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>If ye'll be true and follow me."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>They let him guide them over moss and moor, over hill +and hope, and over many a down, until they came to the +Foulbogshiel. But meanwhile word was gone to the +Land-Sergeant, in Askerton, about seventeen miles from +Carlisle. "The deer that you have hunted so long, is in +Bewcastle Waste this day." The Sergeant understood +at once. Quoth he, "Hobbie Noble is that deer! He +carries the style full high. He has often driven our +bloodhounds back. Now go, warn the bows of Hartlie +Burn, see they sharpen their arrows on the wall! Warn +Willeva and Speir Edom, take word to them that they +meet me on the Rodric-haugh at break of day. We will +on to Conscouthart-green, for there, I think, we'll get our +quarry." In the meantime Hobbie had alighted and +was sleeping in the Foulbogshiel. He dreamed that his +horse was shot beneath him, and he himself was hard +put to it to get away. The cocks crowed, the day +dawned, and if Hobbie had not wakened he would have +been taken or slain in his sleep.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Awake, awake, my comrades five!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I trow here makes a full ill day;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Yet the worst cloak o' this company</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I hope shall cross the Waste this day,"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Thus cried he to his companions, thinking the gates were +clear. But alas! it was not so. They were beset by +the Land-Sergeant's men, cruel and keen, and while +the Englishmen came before, the traitor Sim o' the Mains +came behind. Had Noble been as masterful a champion +as Wallace himself, he could not have won under such +untoward circumstances. He had but a laddie's sword, +but he did more than a laddie's deeds, for that sword +would have cleared Conscouthart-green had it not broken +over one of the English heads. So his treacherous +companions delivered Hobbie up to the officers of justice; +they bound him with his own bowstring, but what made +his heart feel sorest of all, was that it was his own five +who bound him. They took him on to Carlisle. They +asked him mockingly if he knew the way. He thought +much, but said little, though he knew it as well as they +did. As they took him up the Carlisle streets, the old +wives cast their windows wide, every woman whispering +to another, "That's the man loosed Jock o' the Side." The +poor fellow cried out, "Fie on ye, women! why +call ye me man? It's no like a man that I'm used, but +like a beaten hound that's been fighting in the gutter." They +had him up through Carlisle town, and set him by a +chimney fire, where they gave him a wheaten loaf to eat, +and a can of beer. "Confess my lord's horse, Hobbie," +they said, "and to-morrow in Carlisle thou shalt not +die." "How can I confess them," says the poor man, +"when I never saw them." And he swore a great oath, +by the day that he was born, that he had never had +anything of my lord's. He had but short shrift and +they hung him the next morning.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>According to the ballad, his last words were of manly +pride:—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Yet wad I rather be ca'd Hobbie Noble,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>In Carlisle, where he suffers for his fault,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Than I'd be ca'd the traitor Mains,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>That eats and drinks o' meal and malt."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Thus died the doughty Noble. It is proper to add, +however, that the Armstrong's chief, Lord Mangerton, +with whom Hobbie had been a favourite, took a severe +revenge on the traitors who betrayed him. The +contriver of the scheme, Sim o' the Mains, fled into England +to escape the resentment of his chief, and was there caught +by the English, and himself executed at Carlisle, two +months after Hobbie's death in the same place! Such +is, at least, the tradition of Liddesdale.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="the-laird-o-logie"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXXVI</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Laird o' Logie</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>In 1592, the Earl of Bothwell, Francis Stuart, failed +in an attempt against King James VI., whom +he tried to surprise in the palace of Falkland. +Amongst his adherents, whom he sought about the King's +person, was the hero of this ballad, the Laird of Logie, +who was taken prisoner and laid in Edinburgh chapel in +the keeping of Sir John Carmichael, the hero of the ballad +called the "Raid of Reidswire." Carmichael was at this +time captain of the King's Guard, and had the keeping +of State criminals.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>I will sing, if ye will hearken,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>If ye will hearken unto me;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The King has ta'en a poor prisoner,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The wanton laird o' young Logie.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Young Logie's laid in Edinburgh chapel,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Carmichael's the keeper o' the key;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And may Margaret's lamenting sair,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>A' for the love of young Logie.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Lament, lament na, may Margaret,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And of your weeping let me be;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>For ye maun to the King himsell,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To seek the life of young Logie."</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>May Margaret has kilted her green cleiding,[#]</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And she has curl'd back her yellow hair—</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"If I canna get young Logie's life,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Farewell to Scotland for evermair."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Clothing.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>When she came before the King,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>She kneelit lowly on her knee—</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"O what's the matter, may Margaret?</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And what needs a' this courtesie?"</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"A boon, a boon, my noble liege,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>A boon, a boon, I beg o' thee!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And the first boon that I come to crave,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Is to grant me the life of young Logie."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 63%" id="figure-157"> +<span id="a-boon-a-boon-my-noble-liege"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""*A boon, a boon, my noble liege, A boon, a boon, I beg o' thee!*"" src="images/img-198.jpg" /> +<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> +<span class="italics">"</span><em class="italics">A boon, a boon, my noble liege, +A boon, a boon, I beg o' thee!</em><span class="italics">"</span></div> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"O na, O na, may Margaret,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Forsooth, and so it mauna be;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>For a' the gowd o' fair Scotland</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Shall not save the life of young Logie."</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>But she has stown[#] the King's redding kaim,[#]</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Likewise the Queen her wedding knife,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And sent the tokens to Carmichael,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To cause young Logie get his life.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Stolen. +<br />[#] Dressing comb.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>She sent him a purse of the red gowd,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Another o' the white monie;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>She sent him a pistol for each hand,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And bade him shoot when he gat free.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>When he came to the Tolbooth stair,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>There he let his volley flee;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>It made the King in his chamber start,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>E'en in the bed where he might be.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Gae out, gae out, my merrymen a',</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And bid Carmichael come speak to me;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>For I'll lay my life the pledge o' that,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>That yon's the shot o' young Logie."</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>When Carmichael came before the King,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He fell low down upon his knee;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The very first word that the King spake,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Was—"Where's the laird of young Logie?"</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Carmichael turn'd him round about</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>(I wot the tear blinded his ee),</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"There came a token frae your grace,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Has ta'en away the laird frae me."</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Hast thou play'd me that, Carmichael?</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And hast thou play'd me that?" quoth he;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"The morn the justice-court's to stand,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And Logie's place ye maun supplie."</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Carmichael's awa to Margaret's bower,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Even as fast as he may dree—</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"O if young Logie be within,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Tell him to come and speak with me!"</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>May Margaret turn'd her round about</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>(I wot a loud laugh laughed she),</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"The egg is chipp'd, the bird is flown,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Ye'll see nae mair of young Logie."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="jamie-telfer-of-the-fair-dodhead"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXXVII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Jamie Telfer of the Fair Dodhead</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"'Tis I, Jamie Telfer, of the fair Dodhead,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And a harried man I think I be!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>There's nothing left at the fair Dodhead</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>But a woeful wife and bairnies three!"</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>About Martinmas time, when Border steeds get +corn and hay, the Captain of Bewcastle rode +over to Tividale to forage. And first he met a +guide high up in Hardhaughswire, and next he met a +guide low down in Borthwick water.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"What tidings, what tidings, my trusty guide?" +"No tidings have I—yet if ye go to the fair Dodhead, +I'll let ye see many a cow's calf." Right hastily they +came to the fair Dodhead, loosed the cows and ransacked +the house.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Jamie Telfer's[#] heart was sore when he saw this, and +the tears ran down his cheeks, and he pleaded with the +Captain to give him back his gear, or else he would have +revenge upon him. But the Captain only laughed and +said, "Man, there's nothing in thy house but an old sword +without a sheath that could scarcely kill a mouse."</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] The Telfers, though they had become Scotch at the time of this +ballad, were originally a Norman family, descended from the knight +"Taille-fer" (cut-iron), who came over with William the Conqueror.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The sun was not up though the moon had gone down, +and there was a sprinkling of new-fallen snow upon the +ground when Jamie Telfer ran ten miles a-foot between +the Dodhead and Stob's Hall. When he came to the +tower gate he shouted aloud, and old Gibby Elliot came +out and asked the meaning of such disturbance.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"It is I, Jamie Telfer, of the fair Dodhead, and a +harried man am I, for nothing is left at fair Dodhead but +a sad wife and three bairnies."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Go and seek help at Branksome Hall, for ye shall +get none from me—seek help where ye paid blackmail, +for, man, never did ye pay </span><em class="italics">me</em><span> any."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>James turned him about, his eyes blinded with tears. +"Never shall I pay blackmail again to Elliot. My hounds +may all run masterless, my hawks may fly as they will +from tree to tree, and my lord may seize the lands of his +vassal, for never shall I see again the fair Dodhead."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>He turned him to Tiviotside and made as fast as he +could for Coultart cleugh, and there he shouted aloud +until out came old Jock Grieve, and asked who it was +that made such a noise.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"It is I, Jamie Telfer, of the fair Dodhead, and a +harried man am I, for nothing is left at fair Dodhead +but a weeping wife and three bairnies, and six poor calves +stand in the stall crying aloud for their mothers."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Alack!" quoth Jock Grieve, "alack, my heart is +sore for thee! for I married the eldest of three sisters, and +you married the youngest."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So he took out his bonny black horse, right well fed +with corn and hay, and set Jamie Telfer on his back, to +take his troubles to Catslockhill. When he came to +Catslockhill he shouted aloud until out came William's +Wat to ask what was the matter.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"It is I, Jamie Telfer, of the fair Dodhead, and a +harried man am I. The Captain of Bewcastle has driven +away my gear; for God's sake rise and help me."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Alas and alack," quoth William's Wat, "my heart is +sore for thee. Never did I yet come to the fair Dodhead +and found thy basket bare."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>He set his two sons on coal-black steeds, and he himself +mounted a freckled grey, and with Jamie they rode to +Branksome Hall, where they shouted so loud and high +that old Buccleuch came out to ask what was the matter.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"It is I, Jamie Telfer, of the fair Dodhead, and a +harried man am I; there is nought left at fair Dodhead +but a weeping wife and three bairnies."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Alack," quoth the good old lord, "my heart is sorry +for thee; go call Willie, my son, to come speedily. Go +call up hastily the men that live by the waterside. They +who will not ride for Telfer's cattle, let them never again +look me in the face. Call up Wat o'Harden and his sons, +call up Borthwick Water, Gaudilands and Allanhaugh, +call Gilmanscleugh and Commonside; ride by the gate +at Priesthaughswire and call the Currors of the Lee, and +call brave Willie of Gorrinberry as ye come down the +Hermitage slack."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So the Scotts rode and ran bravely and steadily, +shouting "Ride for Branksome," and when Willie +looked ahead he saw the cattle being driven fast up the +Frostylee brook, and to the plain.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Who drives yon cattle?" cried Willie Scott, "to +make us a laughing stock?" "'Tis I, the Captain of +Bewcastle; I will not hide my name from thee."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Let Telfer's cattle go back, or by the faith of my +body," said Willie, "I'll ware my dame's calf-skin on +thee."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"I will not let the cattle go back neither for thy love +nor fear; I will drive Jamie Telfer's cattle in spite of all +your company of Scotts."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Set on them, lads!" cried Willie; "set on them +cruelly; there will be many an empty saddle before they +come to Ritterford."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So they set to with heart and hand, and blows fell like +hail until many were slain and many a horse ran +masterless. But Willie was struck by a sword through the +headpiece and fell to the ground, and auld Wat of Harden +wept for rage when he saw that his son was slain. He +took off his steel cap and waved it thrice, and the snow +on the Dinlay mountain was never whiter than the locks +of his hair.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Revenge! revenge!" he cried; "lay on them, lads. +Willie's death shall be revenged or we will never see +Teviotside again."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The lances flew into splinters, and many another brave +rider fell, and before the Kershope ford was reached, +the Scots had got the victory. John of Brigham was +slain, and John of Barlow, and thirty more of the +Captain's men lay bleeding on the ground. The Captain +himself was run through the right thigh and the bone +broken, and never would woman love him again, if he +should live a hundred years.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Take back the kye!" said he; "they are dear kye +to some of us; never will a fair lady smile on me if I +should live to be a hundred."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Word came to the Captain's bride in her bower, that +her lord had been taken prisoner. "I would rather have +had a winding-sheet," said she, "and helped to put it over +his head than that he should have been disgraced by the +Border Scot when he led his men over Liddel."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>There was a wild gallant there named Watty +Wudspurs (Madspurs) who cried, "Let us on to his +house in Stanegirthside, if any man will ride with us!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>So they came to Stanegirthside, pulled down the trees, +burst open the door, and drove out all the Captain's kye +before them.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>An old woman of the Captain's kin cried, "Who dare +loose the Captain's kye, or answer to him and his men?"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"It is I, Watty Wudspurs, that loose the kye; I will +not hide my name from thee; and I will loose them in +spite of him and his men."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When they came to the fair Dodhead they were a +welcome sight, for instead of his own ten milk kye Jamie +Telfer had now got thirty-three. He paid the rescue shot +in gold and silver, and at Willie Scott's burial, there were +many weeping eyes.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="muckle-mou-d-meg"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXXVIII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Muckle-mou'd Meg</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The Scott family was very powerful on the +Border in the days of Queen Elizabeth, the +bravest and strongest of them being the bold +Lord of Buccleuch. His name is often mentioned in +Border history, and so is that of another Scott, "auld +Wat Scott of Harden." He was a fit man for these wild +times, being both brave and canny. He married a +beautiful Border lass, "the Flower of Yarrow," and it is +surprising how many able men have descended from this +marriage. Not only did Sir Walter Scott and Robert +Louis Stevenson claim descent from this fine old +freebooter; his daughter Maggie married Gilbert Elliot of +Stobs, nicknamed "Gibbie wi' the Golden Garters," +and from them were descended George Augustus Elliot +(Lord Heathfield), famous for his splendid defence of +Gibraltar, worthy of the best Border traditions, and also +the Elliots of Minto, who have twice been Viceroys of +India, once late in the eighteenth and once early in the +twentieth century.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But on one occasion one of the sons of Scott of Harden +came perilously near to finding out how far his neck was +capable of carrying the weight of his body. It was late +in Queen Elizabeth's reign, and King James VI. of +Scotland was extra anxious to live at peace with England, +for he expected now very soon to be King over both +countries. So he told his Warden, the bold Buccleuch, +to restrain the wild Scotch freebooters; and you may +imagine that the order was little to their liking. Young +Willie Scott, Scott of Harden's son, quickly determined +that cattle he must steal anyhow; he was his father's +son, and did not his father once say, as he gazed longingly +at a fine English haystack, "if only ye'd got four legs, +haystack, ye would not be standing there!" So as +Willie Scott was forbidden to steal English cattle, he +decided to steal Scotch.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Gideon Murray, of Elibank Castle, was an old +enemy of the Scott family, having once been told off to +punish them for some audacious act of theirs. And Sir +Gideon had some cattle that would make any Borderer's +mouth water and his arm itch to drive them home. So +Willie and a few boon companions started off one night +for Elibank. But a warning voice had reached Sir +Gideon, and Willie received a warm reception, and was +taken prisoner. He lay in the castle dungeon all night, +reflecting on the folly of being caught, and fully expecting +to be hanged very early next morning, perhaps without +even his breakfast to comfort him!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But early on the fatal morning, Lady Murray startled +her husband by asking him if he really meant to hang +Willie Scott. He looked at her as if she were mad; of +course, what else was there to do? Then she unfolded +her scheme. She had a very plain-looking daughter +known as "Muckle mou'd Meg," or Margaret with the +extremely large mouth. Young Scott was handsome +and of good family, and poor Meg would never again have +such a chance of getting a good husband. Why not +release Willie Scott, if only he would marry +Mucklemou'd Meg?</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>They were men of action in those days, and the priest +was instantly sent for. Then, all being ready, the +prisoner was brought forth. He was shown on the one +hand the priest and the girl, and on the other hand the +tree and the noose, and was asked to take his choice. His +first proud feeling was that he would be mocked at if he +married such a girl on such terms, and he walked bravely +towards the rope. But the nearer he got to it the uglier +it looked. He had to confess to himself that it was not +at all a comfortable looking rope; he had a nasty feeling +round his neck from merely looking at it, and thought it +would probably feel worse when it got round his throat. +Then he looked at the girl; she certainly was not as +beautiful as his mother, the lovely Flower of Yarrow; and +a Borderer loved a beautiful wife. But if he hanged he +would have no wife at all! Then he suggested that he +should have three days to think it over, but Murray said +no, neither priest nor noose was prepared to wait, he +must decide at once. Then he looked again at Meg and +saw a kind glance in her eye; she felt sorry for the +handsome young fellow. Then he knew she had a good heart, +and that decided the matter; he went up and kissed her +with a good grace, and the priest married them straight +away.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Afterwards he became Sir William Scott, and an +important man on the Border. And, best of all, Meg +proved to be a real good wife to him, and he never +regretted the day when he elected to suffer the knot to be +tied by the priest instead of by the hangman.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="the-dowie-dens-of-yarrow"><span class="bold large">Chapter XXXIX</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Dowie Dens of Yarrow</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>This is one of the most famous and widely known +of all the Border ballads, and has proved a +source of inspiration to several poets, including +Wordsworth, who wrote three poems upon the subject. +The bard does not relate the full particulars, but gives +only the barest outlines of facts, which were well known +in his day, and still live in tradition. The story tells of a +duel between two brothers-in-law. The very spot where +it took place is still pointed out, a low muir on the Yarrow +banks. The slain knight was apparently Walter Scott, +one of the ancestors of Lord Napier. His murderer was +his brother-in-law, John Scott. "Dowie" means +melancholy, and "den" is a word used to describe a +narrow, rocky valley, usually wildly beautiful.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Late at e'en drinking the wine,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And e'er they paid the lawing,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>They set a combat them between,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To fight it in the dawing.[#]</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Dawn.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"O stay at home my noble lord,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>O stay at home my marrow.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>My cruel brother will you betray,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>On the dowie houms[#] of Yarrow."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Hillocks.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"O fare ye well, my lady gay!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>O fare ye well, my Sarah!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>For I must go, though I ne'er return</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>From the dowie banks of Yarrow."</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>She kissed his cheek, she combed his hair,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>As oft she had done before, O,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>She belted him with his noble brand,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"And he's away to Yarrow."</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>As he gaed up the Tennies bank</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I wot he gaed with sorrow,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Till down in a den he spied nine armed men,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>On the dowie houms of Yarrow.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"O come ye here to part your land,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The bonnie forest thorough?</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Or come ye here to wield your brand,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>On the dowie houms of Yarrow?"</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"I come not here to part my land,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And neither to beg nor borrow,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I come to wield my noble brand</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>On the bonnie banks of Yarrow.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"If I see all, ye're nine to ane;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And that's an unequal marrow;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Yet will I fight, while lasts my brand,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>On the bonnie banks of Yarrow."</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Four has he hurt, and five has slain,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>On the bloody braes of Yarrow,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Till that stubborn knight came him behind,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And ran his body thorough.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Gae hame, gae hame, good brother John,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And tell your sister Sarah,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To come and lift her leafu'[#] lord;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He's sleepin' sound on Yarrow."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Lawful.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Yestreen I dreamed a dolefu' dream,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I fear there will be sorrow!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I dreamed I pu'd the heather green,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Wi' my true love on Yarrow.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"O gentle wind, that bloweth south,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>From where my love repaireth,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Convey a kiss from his dear mouth,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And tell me how he fareth!</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"But in the glen strive armed men;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>They've wrought me dole and sorrow;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>They've slain—the comeliest knight they've slain,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He bleeding lies on Yarrow."</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>As she sped down yon high, high hill,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>She gaed wi' dole and sorrow,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And in the den spied ten slain men,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>On the dowie banks of Yarrow.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>She kissed his cheek, she kaim'd his hair,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>She searched his wounds all thorough,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>She kiss'd them till her lips grew red,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>On the dowie houms of Yarrow.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Now haud[#] your tongue, my daughter dear,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>For a' this breeds but sorrow;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I'll wed ye to a better lord,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Than him ye lost on Yarrow."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Hold.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"O haud your tongue, my father dear!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Ye mind me but of sorrow;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>A fairer rose did never bloom</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Than now lies cropp'd on Yarrow."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 64%" id="figure-158"> +<span id="she-kissed-his-cheek-she-kaim-d-his-hair"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""*She kissed his cheek, she kaim'd his hair, She searched his wounds all thorough.*"" src="images/img-210.jpg" /> +<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> +<span class="italics">"</span><em class="italics">She kissed his cheek, she kaim'd his hair, +She searched his wounds all thorough.</em><span class="italics">"</span></div> +</div> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="belted-will-and-the-baronry-of-gilsland"><span class="bold large">Chapter XL</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Belted Will and the Baronry of Gilsland</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"When for the lists they sought the plain</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The stately lady's silken rein</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Did noble Howard hold;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Unarmed by her side he walk'd</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And much, in courteous phrase they talk'd</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Of feats of arms of old.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Costly his garb; his Flemish ruff</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Fell o'er his doublet, shaped of buff,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>With satin slashed and lined;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Tawny his boot and gold his spur,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>His cloak was all of Poland fur,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>His hose with silver twined.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>His Bilboa blade, by Marchmen felt,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Hung in a broad and studded belt;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Hence, in rude phrase, the Borderers still</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Call'd noble Howard, Belted Will."</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>SCOTT, </span><em class="italics">Lay of the Last Minstrel</em><span>.</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>One of the many picturesque figures of Border +history was "Belted Will," or to call him +by his proper name and title, Lord William +Howard, a younger son of the powerful Duke of Norfolk.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>His mother had died when he was an infant, and +his father, the foremost Roman Catholic nobleman in +England, took up the cause of Mary Queen of Scots, +whom he wished to marry. For this treason against +Queen Elizabeth he was beheaded in 1572, when young +Lord William was only nine years old. At the age of +fourteen the young lord's guardians arranged for him a +marriage with Elizabeth Dacre, a member of a powerful +Border family, and heiress to the Baronry of Gilsland. +As the bride was even younger than her boy-husband, +let us hope that they both went to school again +immediately after the marriage!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When he grew to manhood, Lord William warmly +supported the Roman Catholic cause and was imprisoned +by Elizabeth; but when James became King, he was +released and restored to his estates on the Border. +Throughout the remainder of his career he was the most +notable man of his district. He knew how to make +himself respected by his wild neighbours. His fame and +power were great. He founded the fortunes of his family +so surely that he it is who is usually thought of as the +ancestor of the Earls of Carlisle, though his great-grandson +was the first to hold the title.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Lord William had great energy and many interests, and +was remarkable as being an "all-round" man. He was +equally a leader of men and a lover of books; no detail +in the management of his estates was too small for him +to study; he was a good husband to his wife, and a +splendid father to his fifteen children. He selected the +most beautiful of his several castles, that of Naworth, and +repaired and almost rebuilt it; he took there the fine old +oak ceiling from the ancient castle of Kirkoswald, which +was ornamented with portraits of all the kings of England. +Visitors to Naworth can see to-day the "hall of Belted +Will," by kind permission of the present Earl of Carlisle.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>He was something of a poet and very much of an +antiquarian. His estates were full of interesting things, +and none knew them better than he. There were miles of +the Roman wall, still in excellent condition; there were +many Roman altars and inscriptions, which he copied and +translated; quite near him, at Coome Crags, was a Roman +quarry, which can still be seen to-day, with marks of Roman +tools on its stones. It stands in a beautiful wood by the +side of the lovely river Irthing. And only a little further +on, standing on a fine cliff overlooking the river, is the old +Roman station of Amboglanna, a fort that covered +five and a half acres, with walls that were once five feet +thick, the main foundations of which are still standing, +clear enough for anyone to trace them out. It is quieter +there to-day than it was in Roman times, or in the stirring +days of Belted Will!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>It is good to think that this broad-shouldered, +gallant, powerful nobleman, who could ride, shoot, fight +and keep this wild district in order, was at the same time +such a clever student and book-worm. They tell a story +that he was once sitting in his library intent on a book +when his men brought in a robber whom they had caught +red-handed, and asked Lord William to try him. Belted +Will, angry at being interrupted, cried out:—"Don't +disturb me; hang him!" Half an hour later he rose +and came down to try the man, but finding that he +was already hanged he went on with his book. It is +only fair to add that robbers in those days expected no +mercy when caught.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>One of the many clever things that Lord William did +was to have figures carved in oak to represent soldiers; +these he placed on the top of his high towers, and deceived +the Scots into thinking that he had a large and very +watchful garrison! These figures can still be seen at Naworth. +Near Naworth Castle is Lanercost Priory, where King +Edward I. stayed on his way to Scotland. There is a +secret passage from Naworth tower which is supposed +to run under the river to Lanercost. No one is allowed +to go through it, as it is considered dangerous; the +people of the district say that the last man to do so was +Oliver Cromwell.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Visitors to Naworth to-day should certainly go on +to Gilsland itself, the picturesque straggling little town, +which was the head of the Baronry which Elizabeth +Dacre brought to her boy-husband. The Irthing at +Gilsland runs through a wonderfully beautiful gorge, +rocky and wooded, wild and romantic. Stand on the +venturesome stepping stones near the old church, with +the river rushing at your very feet, and see if this is an +exaggeration of the beauties of the scene. Right in the +midst of the glen you can see the "Popping-stone" where +Sir Walter Scott walked with the lady of his choice and +asked her to marry him. Readers of "Guy Mannering" +can see in Over Denton church near Gilsland the grave of +Meg Merrilees, who died here at the age of ninety-eight. +The town is also interesting for the fact that the county +border is at Gilsland, and there is an inn so built that it +stands in both counties, and contains a bed in which you +can sleep with your head in Northumberland and your +feet in Cumberland!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>There is a story of Belted Will that tells eloquently of +the strength of his character. When he was released +from prison by King James he found his estates so ruined +by careless management that he knew that great care was +needed to put things right again; so until he got his +affairs into order, all the pocket-money that he would +allow himself was twenty shillings per month!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Bold William, Belted Will, gallant Lord Howard, as +you will, died at Naworth in 1640 aged seventy-seven, +one year after the death of his devoted wife. His +descendants were, like himself, students and men of +action; the present Earl of Carlisle is directly sprung +from him, and is very proud of the fact.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="gilderoy"><span class="bold large">Chapter XLI</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Gilderoy</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Gilderoy was a celebrated and most daring +highwayman, who roamed far, and was well-known +all over Scotland and indeed in London. +His death inspired a very striking ballad, but this is +hardly a Border Lowland ballad, but refers chiefly to +another Border district, namely, that between the +Lowlands and Highlands. Just as the Scottish Lowlanders +thought the English their legitimate quarry, so the +Highlanders in turn looked upon the Lowlanders as +created to supply them with all they lacked. There is a +story on record of a Highland chief who, finding his men +had carelessly robbed another Highlander, returned the +spoil with a handsome apology, and issued stringent +orders that in future nothing was to be taken except in +the Lowlands, "where all men make their prey."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Among the robber clans of the Highlands, the +MacGregors stand easily in the first rank. In a long series +of Scottish Acts of Parliament, they are habitually +referred to as "the wicked clan Gregor, so long continuing +in blood, slaughter, theft, and robbery." One of their +most famous exploits was the battle of Glenfruin, when +they defeated their enemies, the Colquhouns, and slew +two hundred of them. The Colquhouns appeared before +the King at Stirling with the bloody shirts stripped off +their dead, and the law was put in motion against the +MacGregors more vigorously than ever. This was in +1603. The execution of Gilderoy, as described in our +poem, took place in 1638. His real name was Patrick +MacGregor, and the fact that he belonged to this +Ishmaelite clan, whose hand was directed against every +man, and whose very name had been solemnly abolished, +may well serve as an excuse for his career of crime. +Gilderoy, in Gaelic, means the red-haired gillie or lad, +and besides the name there are many other points of +similarity between him and Rob Roy, who was the head +of the Clan MacGregor in the following century. Both +Gilderoy and Rob Roy were professional blackmailers, +that is, they could be relied on never to plunder anyone +who was prudent enough to buy them off by paying a +fixed contribution. This is what is meant in the +following lines of the ballad—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"All these did honestly possess</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He never did annoy,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Who never failed to pay their cess</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To my love, Gilderoy."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The "cess" is the blackmail, or insurance against +robbery. The widespread reputation of Gilderoy is +attested by the many legends of him which are printed +in the old chap-books and "Lives of the Highwaymen." According +to these authorities, Gilderoy once robbed +Oliver Cromwell near Glasgow; but an even more +romantic episode of his career was a roaming trip upon the +continent, in the course of which he is said to have picked +Cardinal Richelieu's pocket while he was celebrating +mass in the King's presence, at the church of St Denis in +Paris. He made his way even to Madrid, where he +succeeded in carrying off the Duke of Medina-Cell's +plate. Altogether a most notorious and dashing cateran. +The ballad is supposed to be spoken by a young +woman who had all her life been attached to him.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Gilderoy was a bonnie boy,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Had roses to his shoon;[#]</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>His stockings were of silken soy,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>With garters hanging down.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>It was, I ween, a comely sight</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To see so trim a boy;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He was my jo, and heart's delight,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>My handsome Gilderoy.</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>* * * * *</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>My Gilderoy and I were born</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Both in one town together;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>We scant were seven years before</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>We 'gan to love each other.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Our daddies and our mammies they</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Were filled with meikle joy,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To think upon the bridal day</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Of me and Gilderoy."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Shoes.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>But there intervened the spirit of adventure which +had ever been the birthright of all of his surname,</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Oh, that he still had been content</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>With me to lead his life!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>But ah! his manful heart was bent</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To stir in deeds of strife;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And he in many a venturous deed</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>His courage bold would try;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And now this gars[#] my heart to bleed</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>For my dear Gilderoy."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Makes.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>No doubt those who knew Gilderoy personally would +have agreed, as was actually said of Rob Roy, that he +was a benevolent and humane man "in his way."</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"My Gilderoy, both far and near,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Was feared in every town;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And boldly bore away the gear</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Of many a Lowland loun,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>For man to man durst meet him none,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He was so brave a boy;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>At length with numbers he was ta'en,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>My winsome Gilderoy."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>He was not so fortunate as Rob Roy, who ultimately +died peacefully in his bed. Gilderoy had lost the game, +and he had to pay the stakes.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Of Gilderoy so feared they were,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>They bound him fast and strong;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To Edinbro' they led him there,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And on a gallows hung.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>They hung him high above the rest,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He was so trim a boy;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>There died the youth whom I loved best,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>My handsome Gilderoy."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Thus perished one of the characteristic products of +an age whose standards were so different from ours that +we can hardly judge him fairly. He was banned before +his birth, a scion of a race so indomitably and innately +ferocious that the law attempted to extirpate them, root +and branch. The very name of Gregor could be given +by no clergyman at baptism, under penalty of +deprivation and banishment. Cunning and politic neighbours +were not slow to take advantage of the stubborn +disposition of the MacGregors, and gradually stripped them +of their once extensive lands in Argyle and Perthshire. +Gilderoy might well consider that he was "an honester +man than stood on any of their shanks," and we may be +excused for feeling a very lively sympathy with him, and +for echoing in our inmost hearts the exquisitely feminine +point of view expressed by the lady composer of the +ballad.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"If Gilderoy had done amiss,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>He might have banished been;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Ah! what sore cruelty is this</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To hang such handsome men!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>To hang the flower of Scottish land,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>So sweet and fair a boy!</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>No lady had so white a hand</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>As thee, my Gilderoy!</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>When he had yielded up his breath</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I bare his corpse away;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>With tears, that trickled for his death,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I washt his comely clay;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And sicker[#] in a grave sae deep</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I laid the dear lo'ed boy;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And now for ever maun I weep,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>My winsome Gilderoy."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Safely.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="archie-armstrong-s-oath"><span class="bold large">Chapter XLII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Archie Armstrong's Oath</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"And oft since then, to England's King,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The story he has told;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And aye, when he 'gan rock and sing,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Charlie his sides would hold."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Archie Armstrong lived in Eskdale, where +he did his best to keep up the grand reputation +of his family as being among the very boldest +sheep-stealers of the Border. His house was at Stubholm, +where the Wauchope stream runs into the river Esk, +near where the picturesque town of Langholm now +stands. Living in the reign of Charles I., after the union +of crowns, the profession of freebooter was far less +honourable than of old. He could not now plead that he was +a Border soldier, fighting against his nation's enemy. +The wild Border blood in him might cry out for the old +adventurous career, but he could no longer hope for the +aid of powerful Border families. When cornered, his sole +protector would be his own wits, and woe betide him if +they failed!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Archie's house was about eight miles from the Border, +and he could not help strolling towards the fascinating +line and tasting the sweetness of temptation. When +the chance came that seemed to him sufficiently safe, +he would go home in company though he had walked out +alone; the "company" being a good fat English sheep. +One night a shepherd had marked him lingering about, +and had watched him, and raised an alarm. Away went +stout Archie at a Marathon pace; half way home he +passed Gilnockie tower, where his ancestor bold Johnie +Armstrong lived so gaily. "Alas!" thought Archie, +dolefully, "he too was hanged in the end!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>He got home well in front of his pursuers, but his wife +gave him small encouragement. With typical Scottish +dourness she remarked to him, "Ye will be ta'en this +night and hanged i' the morning."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But Archie put a braw face on it, and declared that he +would never hang for one silly sheep. Quicker than any +butcher he skinned and roughly trimmed the dead animal, +throwing the rejected parts into the swift stream. +Then rejoicing in the fact that his child was away with +its aunt, he put the carcase carefully in the cradle and +began rocking it and singing a lullaby to it, as if he were +the most loving father in all the British Isles.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The pursuers now rushed in, and began to accuse +Archie triumphantly; but he rebuked them for making +so much noise, telling them that his child was at death's +door! As for stealing their sheep, he took a solemn oath +that if he had done such a thing he would ask to be +doomed to "eat the flesh this very cradle holds!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Such an oath on the Borders was a very serious matter; +they little knew that the only flesh in the cradle was +sheep's flesh, which Archie asked nothing better than to +devour!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Impressed but not convinced, his enemies carefully +searched the whole of Archie's house and garden; it +was only with very great unwillingness that they at last +decided that they must miss the supreme pleasure of +hanging him! They went away saying that they must +have been deluded by the devil or by witches; and the +shepherd resolved to hang a branch of rowan-tree +(mountain-ash) by his fold, for that was well-known to +have the power to keep witches away.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>As soon as they were all on their road to England again, +Archie skipped about like a dancing fiddler. "Wife," +he said, "I never knew before that I would make such +a good nurse."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>After this Archie wandered down to London, and his +wild jests becoming famous, he was made Court Jester +by King Charles I. And many a time he acted the story +to the King, rocking a pretended cradle, and singing a +persuasive lullaby, to the King's intense amusement.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Nevertheless, Archie lost his place by his boldness. +These were the days of Archbishop Laud (1637), who was +hated by the Scots. One day, as the archbishop was +about to say grace before dinner, Archie asked the King's +permission to say grace instead. The King consented, +and the jester's double-meaning words were as follows:—</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"All </span><em class="italics">praise</em><span> to God, and little </span><em class="italics">laud</em><span> to the devil!"</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The archbishop, in many senses a little man, had Archie +dismissed in disgrace. But, such were the chances of +these uncertain times, the archbishop was executed in the +end, while the sheepstealer escaped that fate!</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="christie-s-will"><span class="bold large">Chapter XLIII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Christie's Will</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The resourceful Archie, whose tale we have just +told, was not the only one of the reckless +Armstrongs to keep up the old freebooting habits +in the reign of Charles I. There lived at Gilnockie tower +(the old residence of the famous Johnie Armstrong) in +the parish of Cannobie, a notorious Willie Armstrong, +known as Christie's Will. Like Archie, he more than +once owed his life to his ready wit. He was shut up +in Jedburgh jail when the Earl of Traquair, Lord High +Treasurer, paid the prison an official visit. When he +asked Will the cause of his being there, the freebooter +answered:—</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"For stealing two halters, my lord."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Traquair was surprised, but Will afterwards owned +that there was a fine colt at the end of each halter.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Traquair was amused and pleased by the boldness of +the man, and had him set free.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Some little time afterwards Traquair was involved in +a law-suit which was set down to be decided by Lord +Durie, who seems to have let it be known before-hand +what his opinion was upon the case. Nothing would save +Traquair's interests except that Durie must be got out +of the way before the case began. But how was it to be +done?</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Christie's Will was appealed to, and merely said +"Leave it to me."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>It was the judge's habit to take horseback exercise on +the sands of Leith without any attendant. One +morning, whilst so riding, a well-dressed and gentlemanly +stranger, on a good horse, happened to overtake him; +a courteous greeting led to a friendly conversation, in +which the stranger proved himself so affable and entertaining +that the judge rode on by his side without suspicion. +Suddenly, when they had come to a lonely spot, Lord +Durie found himself seized by this muscular gentleman, +smothered up in a big cloak, whisked off his horse and on +to the stranger's, who galloped off, mischief knows where! +It was Christie's Will, carrying out his promise.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The judge's horse galloped home, riderless. Search +was made, but the judge could not be found. It could +only be supposed that he had been thrown off into the sea. +His successor was appointed, and Lord Traquair's case +was heard and won!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Durie had languished for several months in a +dreary underground vault. I wonder if he thought of +the many poor wretches he had sentenced to a similar +fate? Suddenly at midnight he was roughly awakened, +muffled up as before, and carried away again by his +captor on horseback. Next morning, by the light of the +newly-risen sun, he found himself on the very spot by +the sands of Leith from which he had been kidnapped! +We will hope that every one, including his successor, was +glad when he thus came to life again.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When the Civil War began, the Earl of Traquair was +faithful to King Charles I. Having some papers of +importance that he wished to have given into the King's +own hands, he entrusted these to the bold freebooter. +Christie's Will did his errand, and received an equally +important answer. But spies at Court had given +Cromwell word of the matter, and the command was +sent up to Carlisle that Will Armstrong must be +intercepted there. Not knowing his danger, Will halted in +the town to refresh his horse, then pushed forward to +the bridge which crossed the Eden on the Northern +boundary of the city. Cromwell's soldiers were waiting +for him; the bridge was high and narrow, the broad +Eden waters were swirling in high flood.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Christie's Will, without one second's hesitation, spurred +his horse over the parapet. He sank ... he came up +... he sank ... he came up ... he sank ... he +came up, this time at the very bank. He cut his +heavy, dripping cloak from his shoulders; relieved of +the weight, his horse struggled to the land. Away went +Will, away went the troopers after him. It was a hard +race to the river Esk, and this also Will had to swim. +But now he was in Scotland, and his friends were at +hand; gaily Will turned to his pursuers, who dared not +cross the water; "Good friends," cried he, "come over +and drink with me!" But they showed him their backs, +and their horses's tails, and he saw no more of them.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Such were the exploits of Christie's Will; he was the +last of the free-booters, but he certainly knew how to +live up to their boldest traditions.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="northumberland-at-the-time-of-the-civil-war"><span class="bold large">Chapter XLIV</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Northumberland at the time of the Civil War</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>During the stormy days of King Charles I., the +Borders, and especially Northumberland, saw +many stirring scenes. It must be remembered +that shortly before the Long Parliament was elected, King +Charles almost came to war with the Scottish Presbyterians, +because they would not obey the harsh rule of +Archbishop Laud. The Scots raised an army under the +lead of shrewd general Alexander Leslie, the "old, little, +crooked soldier," of great experience, trained by the great +Gustavus of Sweden. In 1639 Charles sent ships up to +the Forth, in reply to which Leslie marched his army to +threaten the border. The old quarrel between the two +countries began to blaze up again. King Charles led an +army to the border and was received with splendid +applause at Newcastle. Many joined his army, and +shouted with joy at the thought of meeting the Scots in +battle. But they were an untrained disorderly crew, who +fired their guns off at random and kept no military order +whatever. Gallant Leslie marched his men down to +Duns Law, in South Berwickshire, and was ready to +fight. But King Charles would not trust his army that +length; he made terms with his opponents, promising +them the reforms they set their hearts upon, and the two +armies melted away like school-boys at the end of the +term.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Things were soon as bad as before. Lord Conway +was sent by the King to put Newcastle into a strong +defensive state. His greatest difficulty was to get money +for the purpose, for the King's quarrel with his various +Parliaments had deprived him of supplies. The badly +paid troops mutinied, and the ring-leader was shot. +Very soon the Scottish army came across the Tweed, the +Highlanders armed with bows and arrows.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>They pitched their camp on Heddon Law, and soon +proved to the country folk that they had not come for +plunder, but would pay for all they wanted to eat. This +re-assured the country people, who had no real quarrel +with the Scots, and even became most friendly to them.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>With Lord Conway it was otherwise; he was the +King's officer, and was bound to offer resistance. His +opinion was that if once the Scots crossed the Tyne, and +attacked Newcastle from the south or Gateshead side, +they were sure of victory. Accordingly, leaving a strong +garrison to protect the town, he marched out with two +thousand or more foot and fully one thousand horse to +command the important ford across the Tyne at Newburn, +a place five or six miles due west of Newcastle. It +is interesting to remember that here also the Romans had +had fortifications, along the line of the wall, and the very +spot where the Scots and English fought may well have +been the scene of contests between the Roman Legions +and the wild Picts.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The English arrived first, on the south bank of the +river, and threw up earth-works hastily. Very soon +they saw the Scots march into Newburn village, on the +north bank, where they employed themselves by hauling +their cannon up to the church tower. Remarkable +cannon they were, made out of bar-iron hooped together +with cord and wet, raw hides! But they were not +required to carry any distance, the foe was only on the +other side of the Tyne. All the morning the enemies +looked at one another across the river, each hesitating +to fire the first shot of the war. At last an English +officer shot a Scotch officer, and the fight began. The +Scots were on the higher ground, and their cannon, rough +as they were, sent heavy shot on to the English. Then +when the river tide went down, the Scots rushed across +the ford, and the battle was soon won, the royal standard +being taken. English runaways rushed through the +woods and into Newcastle, crying, "Fly for your lives, +naked devils have destroyed us!" Whether they +referred to kilted Highlanders is uncertain. Anyway, +Leslie and his Scots entered Newcastle in triumph, but +were afterwards bought off with a payment of £60,000 +and recrossed the Tweed into Scotland.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>This was in 1641, a year in which King Charles was +quarrelling bitterly with his Long Parliament, though +the actual civil war in England did not begin till 1642. +Early in 1642 it was decided that so important a +town as Newcastle ought to be put in a stronger state +of defence.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>William Cavendish, Earl of Newcastle, was made +governor of the town, but he was much hindered in his +plans by lack of money. King Charles, however, +promoted him from Earl to Marquis of Newcastle, and the +lack of funds he made up as best he was able. However, +the Governor of Holy Island, off the Northumberland +shore, found himself left for sixteen months without any +pay! He wrote to the King's treasury a protest in verse, +beginning:—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"</span><em class="italics">The great commander o' the Cormorants,</em></div> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">The geese and ganders of these hallowed lands,</em></div> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">Where Lindisfarne and Holy Island stands,</em></div> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">These worthless lines sends to your worthy hands.</em><span>"</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The allusion in the first two lines is to the fact that +Holy Island and the Farne Islands were then, and are still +to-day, so thinly peopled that sea-birds gather there in +large numbers, adding greatly to the wild beauties of +these islets and rocks.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In January 1644 a serious struggle began. Leslie and +his soldiers crossed the Tweed at Berwick bridge and +again entered Northumberland. General Bayly marched +his men from Kelso across the frozen river and joined +Leslie at Alnwick. Warkworth Castle, though it +contained cannon and provisions, surrendered at once. The +Scottish general gravely told Bemerton, the governor, +that if he had learnt to fight as well as he had learnt to +dance his castle could never have been taken! The +country districts of Northumberland had no quarrel with +the Scots, and it was soon evident that the real fight +would be at Newcastle, bravely held by the Marquis +and by the Mayor, Sir John Marley.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The Scottish "murthering pieces," as the cannon were +called, were brought down by sea, and the obstinate +conflict began. Despite the terrible weather of a very +rough February, frequent skirmishes took place, while +the Scots closed nearer and nearer round the gallantly +defended town. Leslie soon found that the defences +had been put into good order; the ditch round the town +was dug deep, and close to the walls; the walls +themselves were strongly underpinned. The battlements were +strengthened by stone and lime, but the top stones were +loosened so as to slip if the enemy attempted to mount +them. Every cannon was placed carefully, to the best +advantage.</span></p> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 65%" id="figure-159"> +<span id="the-storming-of-newcastle"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="*The Storming of Newcastle*" src="images/img-228.jpg" /> +<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> +<em class="italics">The Storming of Newcastle</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pnext"><span>But the Marquis of Newcastle was called southward +by the needs of his King. With him were his thousand +brave "White coats," so called because they wore white +coats which they promised to dye in the blood of the +enemy. But they met the terrible Ironsides at Marston +Moor, and in a conflict of furious bravery on both sides, +all of the gallant thousand except thirty were slain on +the field of battle.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>This was in July of 1644, but it did not affect the siege +of Newcastle, which still dragged obstinately on, under +the skilful guidance of the dauntless Mayor. By +October, Sir John Marley was so buoyed up by his success +that he sent a letter to General Leslie to ask if he was +still alive! This the Scots took to be an insult, and a +grand assault was begun. The Scots were furious, and +the defence was desperate. The roar of the cannon and +the rattle of the musketry were succeeded, as the assault +got nearer and nearer to its aim, by the clashing of swords +and the clanging of pikes. At last, the regiments of +Loudoun and Buccleugh succeeded in forcing their way +into the town. In vain the defenders made their last +gallant charge; their cause was now hopeless, and soon +the market-place was filled with fugitives, who flung +down their arms and cried aloud for quarter at the hands +of the triumphant Scots.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In these days the defender was often made to feel the +anger of the victors, who in the flush and cruelty of +victory avenged their dead, only too terribly, upon the +losing side. Not so at Newcastle. Prominent in its day, +it stands out because of the mercy of the Scottish +conquerors as much as for the heroism of its defence. In +this, the last great struggle on English ground between +Scots and English, it is pleasing indeed to recall facts +that redound to the high honour of both parties.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="montrose-and-lesly"><span class="bold large">Chapter XLV</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Montrose and Lesly</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>James Graham, the great Marquis of Montrose +who at first sided with the Scottish Covenanters +against Charles I., was so out of sympathy with +the extreme turn which affairs took later against that +unhappy monarch that he went over to the King's side. +Gathering the Highland Clans under his standard, he +marched Southward and defeated the Covenanters in +a series of brilliantly fought battles. He occupied +Edinburgh, and laid great plans to complete the conquest of +Scotland by subduing the Borderland.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>If the Borders had remained in their old fighting state +no doubt many a Border chief would have joined +Montrose's army and aided his bold plans. But, +unfortunately for King Charles, the Borders had been +tamed and disarmed since the union of England and +Scotland under James I. Only a few adventurous spirits like +Christie's Will remained as examples of the old wild days.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The remnant of the army of the Covenanters was +commanded by the stern General David Lesly (not the +Alexander Leslie who figures in the preceding chapter), +and was somewhere in the Border district. Gay Gallant +Montrose did not bother as to exactly where this army +was; he despised it too heartily. He himself was at +Selkirk, while his army was encamped on the +neighbouring plain of Philiphaugh.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Montrose was busy writing a cheering message to King +Charles to the effect that he had now no enemy left in +Scotland who could offer an effective resistance to his +arms. Little did he think that General Lesly was +gradually creeping nearer, nearer, and was now actually within +four miles of his army. With the advantage of a thick +Scotch mist, Lesly's men actually burst upon Montrose's +infantry without a single scout having seen them to give +warning of their approach! In such confusion, +Montrose's men had no chance whatever.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The Marquis galloped up, only to find his soldiers +hopelessly defeated and great numbers slain. There was +nothing left but for those to escape who could. The +Marquis succeeded in cutting his way through, and +gathered his troops to fight again later on; but his +efforts were doomed to failure.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>A popular ditty of these days, sung to a stirring tune, +was called "Lesly's March." Sir Walter Scott seems to +regard this as wholly serious, and ranks it as a Covenanter +song. It appears to me, however, that many of the lines +have a very sarcastic flavour; no doubt the Covenanters +did really think that</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"There's none in the right but we,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Of the old Scottish nation";</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>but they would probably have phrased it a little less +baldly. To me it appears as if this song were the work of +an onlooker and not a partisan; one ready to see the +faults of both sides, and very much inclined to hold back +his final opinion till he saw which was going to win. +But let the March speak for itself.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold">LESLY'S MARCH</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>March! march:</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Why the de'il do ye na march?</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Stand to your arms, my lads,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Fight in good order;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Front about, ye musketeers all,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Till ye come to the English Border;</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Stand till 't, and fight like men,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>True gospel to maintain.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>The parliament's blythe to see us a' coming!</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>When to the kirk we come,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>We'll purge it ilka room,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Frae popish relics, and a' sic innovation,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>That a' the world may see,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>There's nane in the right but we,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Of the auld Scottish nation.</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>A truly partisan ballad of the day describes the battle +of Philiphaugh and exults in the defeat of Montrose, +"our cruel enemy," it calls him. As a ballad it has no +great poetic merit; the very sober Covenanters probably +regarded ballad-making as a frivolity. But it describes +rather graphically how an "aged father," from the +country-side, led Lesly's army very cautiously and +wisely to the very tents of the foe. These details are no +doubt accurate; though the ballad-writer (whoever +he was) displays his ignorance of other matters by making +the old soldier say that he was at the battle of Solway +Moss (which took place one hundred years before) and at +that of Dunbar, which was not fought till five years +later!</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The following are the opening verses of the ballad, +giving an idea of its plain, straightforward style:—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>On Philiphaugh a fray began,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>At Hairhead-wood it ended;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>The Scots out o'er the Graemes they ran,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Sae merrily they bended;</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Sir David frae the Border came,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Wi' heart an' hand came he;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Wi' him three thousand bonny Scots,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>To bear him company.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Wi' him three thousand valiant men,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>A noble sight to see!</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>A cloud o' mist them weel conceal'd,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>As close as e'er might be.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>When they came to the Shaw burn,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Said he, "Sae weel we frame.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>I think it is convenient</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>That we should sing a psalm."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>It is not necessary to quote more of it, but it may be +remarked that in place of the last line as given here, the +</span><em class="italics">unregenerate</em><span> substituted,</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"That we should take a dram."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>In point of actual fact, </span><em class="italics">both</em><span> versions are probably true!</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="the-death-of-montrose"><span class="bold large">Chapter XLVI</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Death of Montrose</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>During the imprisonment of King Charles I., at +a time when active war on his behalf might +do the unhappy monarch more harm than good, +the gallant Montrose had retired to France. His bright +military fame, his courteous manners, and manly bearing +made him friends everywhere, and when he visited +Germany the Emperor conferred on him the rank of +Marshal. Hearing of the execution of Charles I., +Montrose at once placed himself at the disposal of Charles II., +now a fugitive in Holland. This prince named him +Captain General of Scotland, and the daring hero set out +for the Orkney Islands with about five hundred paid +soldiers, mostly adventurous Germans and Dutchmen. +Only a reckless spirit like Montrose would have +undertaken so wild a commission.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Scotland was heartily sick of war, and learnt with +consternation of the arrival of this firebrand. Lesly was +sent forward with four thousand men to attack Montrose's +five hundred! Colonel Strachan led the advanced +guard, which fell unexpectedly upon the invading army, +and, after a brief, fierce struggle, totally defeated it.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Montrose, disguised as a peasant, entrusted his life to +one he believed to be his friend, M'Leod, Laird of +Assaint. But this unworthy man betrayed him to his +bitterest enemy, General Lesly. Thus, at last, this +brilliant commander was in the hands of the bitter +Covenanters, into whose hearts his brilliant victories +had once spread such terror. Their treatment of him is +a black stain upon their memory. For days he was led +about in the peasant's disguise, which he had put +on; he was carted through the streets of Edinburgh, +accompanied by such insults that the populace cried +shame upon his captors.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>When tried before the Scottish Parliament for treason, +he made a most eloquent defence, one of the most notable +of his assertions being that he had never stained his +victories by slaughtering his foes in cold blood after the +battle. In this he was far above his enemies, who had +disgraced their victory of Philiphaugh by many an +execution, and who were now bent upon taking the life of +Montrose himself. The sentence against him was +probably decided before his defence had been heard; it +ran thus:—</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"That James Graham should next day be carried to +Edinburgh cross and there hanged on a gibbet 30 feet +high for the space of three hours; then to be taken down, +his head to be struck off on a scaffold and affixed to the +prison; his arms and legs to be stuck up on the four +chief towns of the Kingdom, his body to be buried +in the place set aside for common criminals."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>To this sentence the great Marquis haughtily replied +that he would rather have his head so placed than his +picture in the King's bedchamber, and that he wished he +had limbs enough to be dispersed into all the cities of +Christendom, to prove his dying attachment to his king. +And in the one evening of life that still remained to him, +this accomplished and fearless nobleman employed his +time in turning these loyal sentiments into verse.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Despite the fact that he triumphed undaunted over all +the mean inventions of their malice, his enemies persisted +to the end.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The executioner tied mockingly round his neck the +book that had been published describing his victories; +Montrose thanked him, saying that he wore it with more +pride than he had ever worn the garter of honour. He +uttered a short prayer; then asking them what more +indignities they had prepared for him, he patiently and +with unbroken spirit yielded his life to the hangman, at +the too early age of thirty-eight.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Whatever opinions we may have as to the rights and +wrongs of the quarrel, this brutal killing of a gallant +soldier and accomplished gentleman can only rank as a +hideous blot upon all concerned in it. Every insult +hurled at Montrose has returned in the verdict of time +with redoubled force against the malice of those who +stooped to such vindictiveness. The execution of a +soldier who has violated no rule of war is at any time +a thing that revolts the human conscience, and a +sentence hoarse with the vile taunts of its utterers has so +far lost all semblance of justice that it is needless to +argue upon it.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In the verdict of history, the great Marquis of +Montrose, whether right or wrong in his political views, +lived and died like a man of honour.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The ballad of the "Gallant Grahams," written about +this time, reflects very sincerely and touchingly the +devotion and affection surrounding the great Marquis, +accompanied by the very Scottish feeling that in +addition to his own personal power and genius, he +was also the head of the great Border family of Grahams.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold">THE GALLANT GRAHAMS</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Now, fare thee well, sweet Ennerdale![#]</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Baith kith and countrie I bid adieu;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>For I maun away, and I may not stay,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>To some uncouth land which I never knew.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] A corruption of Endrickdale. +The principal and most ancient +possessions of the Montrose family lie +along the water of Endrick, in +Dumbartonshire.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>To wear the blue I think it best,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Of all the colours that I see;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And I'll wear it for the gallant Grahams,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>That are banished from their countrie.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>I have no gold, I have no land,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>I have no pearl nor precious stane;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>But I wald sell my silken snood,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>To see the gallant Grahams come hame.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>In Wallace days, when they began,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Sir John the Graham[#] did bear the gree</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Through all the lands of Scotland wide:</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>He was lord of the south countrie.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] The faithful friend and adherent of the +immortal Wallace slain at +the battle of Falkirk.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And so was seen full many a time;</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For the summer flowers did never spring,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>But every Graham, in armour bright,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Would then appear before the king.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>They were all drest in armour sheen,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Upon the pleasant banks of Tay;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Before a king they might be seen,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>These gallant Grahams in their array.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>At the Goukhead our camp we set,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Our leaguer down there for to lay;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And, in the bonny summer light,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>We rode our white horse and our gray.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Our false commander sold our king,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Unto his deadly enemie,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Who was the traitor, Cromwell, then;</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>So I care not what they do with me.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>They have betray'd our noble prince,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And banished him from his royal crown;'</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>But the gallant Grahams have ta'en in hand</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For to command those traitors down.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>In Glen-Prosen[#] we rendezvous'd,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>March'd to Glenshie by night and day.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And took the town of Aberdeen,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And met the Campbells in their array.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Glen-Prosen is in Angusshire, +usually called Forfarshire. The +Glenshee road, over the Grampians, +is the highest road in Great +Britain.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Five thousand men, in armour strong,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Did meet the gallant Grahams that day</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>At Inverlochie, where war began,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And scarce two thousand men were they.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Gallant Montrose, that chieftan bold,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Courageous in the best degree,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Did for the king fight well that day;—</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The Lord preserve his majestie!</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Then woe to Strachan, and Ilacket baith!</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And, Lesly, ill death may thou die!</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>For ye have betray'd the gallant Grahams,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Who aye were true to majestie.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And the Laird of Assaint has seized Montrose,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And had him into Edinburgh town;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And frae his body taken the head,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And quarter'd him upon a trone,</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And Huntly's[#] gone the self-same way,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And our noble king is also gone;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>He suffer'd death for our nation,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Our mourning tears can ne'er be done.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] The Marquis of Huntly, +one of the few Scottish nobles who never +wavered in his devotion to King Charles I., +was beheaded by the +sentence of the Parliament of Scotland.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>But our brave young king is now come home,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>King Charles the Second in degree;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>The Lord send peace into his time,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And God preserve his majestie!</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The ballad-writer's reference to the "coming home" +of Charles II. probably means his signing of the Covenant +and placing himself entirely at the mercy of the violent +bigots who had killed his most faithful servant, Montrose. +To this was Charles reduced by the desperate nature of +his fortunes. But this course of action entirely severed +the Scottish Covenanters from the English Puritans, and +admirers of the gallant Montrose can take a grim pleasure +in the fact that his arch-enemy, General Lesly, was most +disastrously defeated by Cromwell at the battle of +Dunbar.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="the-borderers-and-the-jacobites"><span class="bold large">Chapter XLVII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Borderers and the Jacobites</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>During the Jacobite Rising, many of the Border +chiefs took up arms in the Stuart cause. Two +of these, Lord Derwentwater and Viscount +Kenmure, were beheaded on Tower Hill for their part in +the unsuccessful rising of 1715, and another, Lord +Nithsdale, was only saved from the same fate by the +courage of his wife.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>This brave woman travelled in the depth of winter +from Scotland, but when she reached York the snow was +so deep that the stage coach could go no further. She +continued her journey alone, though the snow was +above the horse's knees, and by good luck she reached +London and the Tower in safety, where, by bribing the +guards, she managed to see her husband.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>She then resolved to petition the King for his life, and +she herself tells in a letter to her sister how she waited +in the ante-room to see the King (George I.), and how she +threw herself at his feet to present the petition. The +King tried to get away from her, but she seized hold of his +coat, and was dragged on her knees along the floor. This +scene produced no result, and as other efforts to procure +Nithsdale's release also failed, the Countess determined to +save him by a stratagem. She again bribed the guards +to let her in, telling them she had joyful news for her +husband about the petition. She dressed him in woman's +clothes, which she had smuggled in for the occasion, and +painted his face, and brought him out, speaking to him +as to the woman friend who had accompanied her, but +who had already left the prison, calling him "Mrs Betty," +and asking him for the love of God to go as quickly as he +could to her lodging and fetch her maid, as she wished +to go and present her final petition for the release.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>All went well, and Nithsdale escaped to France; but +the King was highly incensed and declared that the +Countess cost him more trouble than any woman in Europe.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Her adventures were not yet over, however. In spite +of the fact that the King had wished for her arrest, she +travelled to Scotland to fetch her son, and the valuable +papers which she had taken the precaution to bury +underground on her departure for London.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>She was successful in this second journey, and, after +concealing herself and her son, until no further search +was made for them, this noble and enterprising +woman escaped to France and joined her husband. +They afterwards went to Rome, where they lived +happily for many years.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In an old ballad called "Lord Nithsdale's Dream," he +is described as dreaming in the Tower the night before +his execution, after having said farewell to his beloved +wife.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Farewell to thee, Winifred, pride of thy kind,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Sole ray in my darkness, sole joy in my pain."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>He listens for the last sound of her footfall, and catches +the last glimpse of her robe at the door, and then all +joy and gladness depart out of his life, and he prays +alone in his dungeon, thinking of the dreadful dawn +that awaits him.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>He falls asleep and dreams that he is a frolicsome boy +again, playing amongst the bracken on the braes of the +Nith, bathing in its waters and treading joyfully the +green heather. Or again he is riding to the hunt on his +gallant grey steed, with a plume in his bonnet and a star +on his breast, chasing the red deer and the wild mountain +roe.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The vision changes, and he dreams that he is telling +his love to Winifred, and swearing to be faithful to +her, watching the red blushes rise on her cheeks at his +words of love, and hearing her sweet voice replying.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Again he is riding at the head of his gallant band.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"For the pibroch was heard on the hills far away,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>And the clans were all gathered from mountain and glen.</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>For the darling of Scotland, their exile adored,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>They raised the loud slogan—they rushed to the strife;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Unfurl'd was the banner, unsheathed was the sword,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>For the cause of their heart, that was dearer than life."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>And now the darksome morn has come, the priest is +standing by his side, saying the prayers for the dead. +He hears the muffled drum and the bells tolling his death +knell; the block is prepared, the headsman comes; and +the victim is led bare-headed from his cell.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Waking, he turns on his straw pallet, and sees, by the +pale, misty light of a taper, the form of his wife.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"'Tis I, 'tis thy Winifred!" softly she said,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>"Arouse thee and follow, be bold, never fear,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>There was danger ahead, but my errand has sped,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>I promised to save thee, and lo! I am here!"</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 64%" id="figure-160"> +<span id="tis-i-tis-thy-winifred"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""*'Tis I, 'tis thy Winifred!*"" src="images/img-242.jpg" /> +<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> +<span class="italics">"</span><em class="italics">'Tis I, 'tis thy Winifred!</em><span class="italics">"</span></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Then she puts woman's garb upon him, and together +they pass the unsuspecting guards and weary sentinels.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>When the peasantry on the Nithsdale estates heard of +their Lord's escape their joy was unbounded.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>One of the songs published and sung everywhere at the +time, begins:—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"What news to me, carlin'?</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>What news to me?"</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>"What news!" quo' the carlin',</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>The best that God can gie."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>The speaker asks if the true king has come to his own, +and the carlin' answers.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Our ain Lord Nithsdale</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Will soon be 'mang us here.</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Then the speaker says:—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Brush me my coat, carlin',</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>Brush me my shoon;</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>I'll awa and meet Lord Nithsdale,</span></div> +<div class="line"><span>When he comes to our town."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>"Alack-a-day," says the carlin'. "He has escaped to +France, with scarce a penny."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>"Then," says the first speaker, "we'll sell our corn +and everything we have and send the money to our lord, +and we'll make the pipers blow and lads and maidens +dance, and we'll all be glad and joyful and play 'The +Stuarts back again,' and make the Whigs go mad."</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Lord Derwentwater's fate was not so happy as that of +Lord Nithsdale, though Lady Derwentwater made a +desperate effort to save him.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>It was she indeed who had urged him to throw in his +lot with the Stuarts, saying that it was not good that he +should hide his head when other gentlemen were mustering +for the cause.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The peasantry still think that Lady Derwentwater +sits on her ruined tower lamenting the evil counsel she +gave her husband, and they hasten by in fear when they +see her lamp-light flickering.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Derwentwater is described in the old ballads, as "a +bonny lord," with hair of gold, and kind love dwelling +in his hawk-like eyes.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>He passionately loved his beautiful home in Tynedale, +the foundations of which may still be seen. The wooded +glen below the castle, with the little burn running through +it, spanned by a grey bridge is romantically beautiful.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>His "Farewell" to all this beauty is pathetic.</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"Farewell to pleasant Ditson Hall,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>My father's ancient seat;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>A stranger now must call thee his,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Which gars[#] my heart to greet.[#]</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Farewell each kindly well-known face,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>My heart has held so dear:</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>My tenants now must leave their lands,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Or hold their lives in fear.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] makes. +<br />[#] weep.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>No more along the banks of Tyne,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>I'll rove in autumn grey;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>No more I'll hear, at early dawn,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The lav'rocks[#] wake the day:</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Then fare thee well, brave Witherington,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And Forster ever true.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Dear Shaftsbury and Errington,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Receive my last adieu.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] larks.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And fare thee well, George Collingwood,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Since fate has put us down,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>If thou and I have lost our lives,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Our King has lost his crown.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Farewell, farewell, my lady dear,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Ill, ill thou counsell'dst me:</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>I never more may see thy babe</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>That smiles upon thy knee.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And fare thee well, my bonny grey steed,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>That carried me aye so free;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>I wish I had been asleep in my bed,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The last time I mounted thee.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>The warning bell now bids me cease;</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>My troubles nearly o'er;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Yon sun that rises from the sea,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Shall rise on me no more.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>Albeit that here in London town</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>It is my fate to die,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>O carry me to Northumberland,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>In my father's grave to lie:</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>There chant my solemn requiem</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>In Hexham's holy towers,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And let six maids of fair Tynedale</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Scatter my grave with flowers.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>And when the head that wears the crown,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Shall be laid low like mine,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Some honest hearts may then lament</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>For Radcliff's fallen line.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Farewell to pleasant Ditson Hall,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>My father's ancient seat;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>A stranger now must call thee his,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Which gars my heart to greet."</span></div> +<div class="line"> </div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="pfirst"><span>Before his death, Earl Derwentwater signed a paper +acknowledging "King James the Third" as his +sovereign, and saying that he hoped his death would +contribute to the service of his King.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>He is said to have looked closely at the block, and +to have asked the executioner to chip off a rough place +that might hurt his neck. Then, pulling off his coat +and waistcoat, he tried if the block would fit his head, +and told the executioner that when he had repeated +"Lord Jesus receive my soul" for the third time, he +was to do his office, which the executioner accordingly +did at one blow.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>History tells that Derwentwater was brave and +open-hearted and generous, and that his fate drew tears from +the spectators, and was a great misfortune to his country. +He was kind to the people on his estates, to the poor, the +widow and the orphan.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>His request to be buried with his ancestors was refused, +and he was interred at St Giles, Holborn, but his corpse +was afterwards removed and carried secretly to +Northumberland, where it was deposited in Dilston Chapel. The +aurora borealis, which appeared remarkably vivid on +the night of his execution, was long called in that part +of the country "Lord Derwentwater's Lights."</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Immediately after Derwentwater's execution, Lord +Kenmure also suffered death. After his execution, a +letter was found in his pocket addressed to the Pretender, +by the title of King James, saying that he died in his +faithful service, and asking him to provide for his wife +and children.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The following ballad describes his rising in the Stuart +cause—</span></p> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>"O Kenmure's on and awa', Willie,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>O Kenmure's on and awa';</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And Kenmure's lord's the bravest lord</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>That ever Galloway saw.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Success to Kenmure's band, Willie!</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Success to Kenmure's band!</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>There's no a heart that fears a Whig,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>That rides by Kenmure's hand.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>His lady's cheek was red, Willie,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>His lady's cheek was red,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>When she saw his steely jupes[#] put on,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Which smell'd o' deadly feud.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Here's Kenmure's health in wine, Willie,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Here's Kenmure's health in wine;</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>There ne'er was a coward o' Kenmure's blude,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Nor yet o' Gordon's line.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] armour.</span></p> +<!-- --> +<blockquote> +<div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>There's a rose in Kenmure's cap, Willie,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>There's a rose in Kenmure's cap,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>He'll steep it red in ruddie heart's blade,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Afore the battle drap.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Here's him that's far awa', Willie,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>Here's him that's far awa',</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And here's the flower that I lo'e best,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>The rose that's like the snaw.</span></div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block outermost"> +<div class="line"><span>O Kenmure's lads are men, Willie,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>O Kenmure's lads are men,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>Their hearts and swords are metal true,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>And that their foes shall ken.</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>They'll live, or die wi' fame, Willie,</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>They'll live, or die wi' fame,</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line"><span>And soon wi' sound o' victorie</span></div> +<div class="inner line-block"> +<div class="line"><span>May Kenmure's lord come hame."</span></div> +</div> +</div> +</div> +</blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="the-nine-nicks-o-thirlwall"><span class="bold large">Chapter XLVIII</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Nine Nicks o' Thirlwall</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>If you stand upon Rose Hill, which rises from the +banks of the river Irthing just where Northumberland +meets Cumberland, you have lying around you +one of the finest wild prospects in the United Kingdom. +Hills to the north, stretching away into Scotland; hills +to the east, broken into picturesque valleys, especially +the great gap through which rushes the young Tyne; +hills to the south, dominated by the powerful head of +Cross Fell, a great sprawling mountain, not a peaked one, +the highest stretch of which is nearly three thousand feet +above sea level.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But while drinking in the glories of the distances, the +eye will note with curiosity a strange-looking but +picturesque hill only a couple of miles to the South-east, +with a long rocky ridge at its top deeply cut into or +"nicked" in nine different places, this giving it a very +wild appearance. It is one of these hills which tempts +the keen observer to go on and explore it. If we cut +direct to it, over the fields, it is rough going, but the view +is good all the way. And there are four special objects of +interest, all close together; the rushing Tipalt river, +Thirlwall Castle, the Roman wall, and the Nine Nicks.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Thirlwall Castle rises tall, square, and stern, with a dark +fir-wood behind it at the foot of the hill, where a bend in +the river makes a natural moat. Approaching it from +Rose Hill, it looks as if the building were still nearly +complete, but the south side has almost entirely fallen +away and all the floors and the roof are out. Edward +I. slept in this Castle when it was newly built, in 1306; +but now it is grass-grown and moss-grown, and its +three bare walls rise gaunt and grim to the sky. It is +entirely built out of stones with Roman chisel marks, +taken from the great Roman wall, which unfortunately +was once regarded as a handy stone-quarry for anyone +to take from.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The name "Thirlwall" means "Drill-wall," and marks +the spot as that at which the wild Northern tribes first +"drilled" or broke through the wall. The name was, +of course, given to the place long before this castle was +built.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>To mount from Thirlwall Castle to the top of the Nine +Nicks is an easy enough task for any vigorous person. +It is just a fine healthy scramble. When at the top, it +becomes evident that some sort of fortification once +existed there. In point of fact this was the important +Roman station called "Magna" which stood at about +the middle of the Roman Wall. The wall ran from sea +to sea, that is to say, from the mouth of the Tyne to the +Solway. Thus it was nearly eighty miles long, and a +very elaborate structure indeed.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>It consisted of three distinct portions:—</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>1. The main stone wall, with a ditch to the north +of it.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>2. An earth-work to the south of this, consisting of +either two or three ramparts about seventy feet apart, +with a ditch between.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>8. Stations, Castles and Watch-towers. Sometimes +these were to the north of the wall, sometimes in the +middle, sometimes south, according to the nature of the +country.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The height of the main wall was from sixteen to twenty +feet, including battlements. It was six to nine feet +thick. Fancy a powerful military wall of about eighteen +feet high stretching nearly eighty miles right across +England! It hardly seems possible that the Romans +could undertake such a work. The square strong stones +were carefully selected and often brought from quarries +at a distance. These stones flanked the outsides of the +wall, and in between was strong concrete which was +poured in while in liquid.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>The second wall was of earth and stones, and, of +course, lower than the first. Then there was a castle +every mile, some of which can still be clearly traced, and +a "station," about every four miles, of which several +interesting ruins remain. There was a road eighteen feet +wide between the two walls.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Those who have the energy to toil on for a full dozen +miles of rough walking, along the wall, eastward from +Thirlwall, will be rewarded by some of the most romantic +scenes in Britain. They will see the wall at its best. +They will pass Whinshields, the highest point in the wall, +1230 feet above sea level. The wild Northumbrian +lakes will lie at their feet; if the day is fine, the Solway +will be seen glistening, thirty miles to the west; and on +the east the eye follows the Tyne almost to the sea. The +Pennine Ridge bars the view twenty miles to the south, +while on the North the High Cheviot is clear and strong, +thirty miles away.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Passing Whinshields, it is not far to Borcovicus (often +called Housteads) where lie the remains of a large Roman +Station, wonderful remains, showing the whole outline +with startling clearness. This station covered five acres, +and here was quartered a cohort of the Tungrian infantry, +consisting of a thousand brave soldiers, servants of +Imperial Rome.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But, after all, nothing is so impressive as the remains +of the wall itself. Stand at the top either of Whinshields +or of the Nine Nicks, and try to imagine what it looked +like in Roman days. Eastward along the Tyne valley +and westward along the Irthing valley ran this wonderful +work, this powerful girdle of stone. The very spot was +chosen with great judgment, for these valleys gave the +Romans a district protected by the bleak hills, where +they could live and where they could keep cattle and grow +grain. But the hilly nature of the ground must have +added to the difficulty of the builders. The wall had to +run up steep hill sides and cling to the edge of cliffs, and +precipices; it had to be carried by bridges over roaring +torrents, and when it reached low-lying ground it had to +avoid the treacherous swamps and morasses. And yet, +despite every obstacle, the great wall ran on its direct +way, as strong and persistent as the great people who +built it.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>It withstood the shock of war, it was not flung down +by soldiers marching against it. But to the people who +wanted to build castles or houses or farms, or even to +mend roads, the wall offered a mass of material ready to +hand, and it suffered not from man's energy so much as +from his laziness. Century after century it was robbed +of its stones; to-day a series of long grass-grown mounds, +a few feet high, running across the meadows, are nearly all +that remain of one of the most wonderful pieces of +building that was ever erected in Great Britain. Even today, +in its decay, it is one of the most romantic features +of a highly romantic district.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst" id="in-wild-northumberland-to-day"><span class="bold large">Chapter XLIX</span></p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">In Wild Northumberland To-day</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> +</div> +<p class="pfirst"><span>These tales of the Borders would hardly be +complete without a few concluding words about +the great romantic charm which still invests +the Borderline. Let us, for example, make a brief survey +of some of the haunting spots in wild Northumberland. +We will pass over such towns as Warkworth, Alnwick, +Alnmouth; beautiful as they are, they have moved with +the times and are too modern to be more than mentioned +here. But in a place like Holy Island we feel the call +of the old days, and the charm that was theirs. This +Island was the scene of the first efforts of Christianity to +curb the wild and warlike Northumbrians; St Aidan, +and St Cuthbert, both men of remarkable genius and +great influence, taught there lessons of peace and justice +without which every warlike state would descend into +mere savagery. The island is about two miles square, +and at low tide it is easy to walk across the sands to or +from the mainland of Northumberland. The distance is +two and a half miles, and it is necessary to take off shoes +and stockings, for the water on the sands will often be +six inches deep. A row of posts marks the way, and some +of them have ladders, reaching up to a barrel on the top, +so that any caught by the tide can find a safe harbour +wherein they will suffer nothing more serious than a long +wait! The island is inhabited by fishing folk, living +simple healthy lives. There are fine rocks and splendid +sands; beautiful flowers and lovely shells. The +seabirds are wonderful. The ruins of the old Cathedral +and castle are very interesting, it is a delightful +old-world place, out of the rush and hurry of modern life.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>Retracing our steps to the mainland, and proceeding +westward for a dozen or so miles as the crow flies, we +reach the River Till, and the field of Flodden. Here we +are near to the big wild wall of the Cheviot hills, and to +keep on the English side of the border we need to turn +due south. It is then about thirty miles of rough +walking through these grandly rugged hills before +we come to the field of Otterburn.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>But we realise in that walk how it was that the district +produced and still produces a hardy race of hunters and +sheep-farmers, and why it is that the towns and farms +nestle in the valleys, so that the Borderers, when they +meant to say, "Rouse the neighbourhood," used the +phrase, "Raise the </span><em class="italics">water</em><span>" (meaning, of course, the houses +along the waterside). Further south, still going among +splendid shaggy hills, we reach the North Tyne River, +and soon afterwards some highly interesting Roman +remains, including the arches of a fine bridge over the +river at the Roman Station of Cilurnum, near Chollerford. +This is on the Roman Wall, which has already been +described under the heading of Thirlwall. A few miles +to the west would bring us to the picturesque but +little-known Northumberland Lakes, where the wild swans +nest. If we continue south and south-west we can follow +the beautiful valleys of the Allan or the South Tyne. +This is a district of hills, roads, and castles; the domain +of the fated Lord Derwentwater was near here. For +beauty the whole of this neighbourhood would be hard to +beat; yet it is too little known.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>If we still go south, the scenery grows wilder and +wilder as we approach the huge mountain of Cross Fell. +We may cross into south-east Cumberland and visit +the quaint old town of Alston, one of the highest towns +in England. Here were once the royal silver mines, +when English coins were made from Alston silver. +Lead is chiefly mined there now, and the mines are +worth a visit. Near Cross Fell also is a rough road +called the "Maiden Way," and an old legend says it +was made by women, who carried the stones in their +aprons! The western slope of the Fell is famous for +a specially violent wind called the "Helm wind," +which rages there at certain seasons. It is just as if +it were rushing fiercely down the hill, with a roaring +noise and strength enough to overturn a horse and cart, +and to beat the grass and grain till it is black! But +though it does a deal of damage it is very exhilarating, +making people feel merry in spite of themselves. And +on Cross Fell slopes can be seen the beautiful River +Tees, which can be followed to its grand waterfalls of the +the Cauldron and the High Force. In the first the +water dashes on to huge rocks, and is thrown back +on itself, roaring, foaming, and fighting; in the second, +it tumbles sheer down a dark and noble cliff. And +everywhere on the heights there are splendid views.</span></p> +<p class="pnext"><span>In making any such excursions as the ones here +outlined, into the out-of-the-way parts of Northumberland +and the Borders, we find an added pleasure in the +character of the people. The Borderers are still a +grand race; big men, vigorous, honest, courteous, +hospitable, free from all that is mean and small. In +some districts you can hear "thou" and "thee" +still used, and meet old men who have never seen a +railway. One dear old farmer, a real picture of a +simple honest man, hearing I had come from London, +asked me if the London men had got their hay-crop +in yet! One typical Northumbrian, of great natural +intelligence, bearing a name famous on the Borders, +is station-master at a local station that stands in a wood, +and between trains, studies bird and wild-flower till +he has made himself a most interesting naturalist. A +stranger who has lost his way will find these courteous +folk ready to walk a mile or two with him, out of their +own way, just to set him right; and he who is tired +and hungry will be invited to step in and eat, and +perhaps find himself introduced to all the family and +treated like an honoured guest; then, not a penny of +payment taken, they will set him on his way with a +bunch of the best flowers from the garden! For hearts +on the Border are very human and warm. So that +in due time he who knows the Borderers will delight +to hear the unmistakeable Northumbrian or the +pronounced Border accent. And he will say to himself: +Splendid is the Border scenery, and stirring are the +Border ballads, but best of all are the Border men.</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * * * * *</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">TOLD THROUGH THE AGES</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Legends of Greece and Rome +<br />Favourite Greek Myths +<br />Stories of Robin Hood and his Merry Outlaws +<br />Stories of King Arthur and his Knights +<br />Stories from Herodotus +<br />Stories from Wagner +<br />Britain Long Ago +<br />Stories from Scottish History +<br />Stories from Greek Tragedy +<br />Stories from Dickens +<br />Stories from the Earthly Paradise +<br />Stories from the Æneid +<br />The Book of Rustem +<br />Stories from Chaucer +<br />Stories from the Old Testament +<br />Stories from the Odyssey +<br />Stories from the Iliad +<br />Told by the Northmen +<br />Stories from Don Quixote +<br />The Story of Roland +<br />Stories from Thucydides +<br />The Story of Hereward +<br />Stories from the Faerie Queene +<br />Cuchulain: The Hound of Ulster +<br />Stories from Xenophon +<br />Old Greek Nature Stories +<br />Stories from Shakespeare +<br />Stories from Dante +<br />Famous Voyages of the Great Discoverers +<br />The Story of Napoleon +<br />Stories of Pendennis and the Charterhouse +<br />Sir Guy of Warwick +<br />Heroes of the Middle Ages +<br />The Story of the Crusades +<br />The Story of Nelson +<br />Stories from George Eliot +<br />Froissart's Chronicles +<br />Shakespeare's Stories of the English Kings +<br />Heroes of Modern Europe +<br />The Story of King Robert the Bruce +<br />Stories of the Scottish Border +<br />The Story of the French Revolution +<br />The Story of Lord Kitchener +<br />Stories of the Saints +<br />The Story of St Elizabeth of Hungary +<br />In Feudal Times +<br />The High Deeds of Finn +<br />Early English Travel and Discovery +<br />Legends of Ancient Egypt +<br />The Story of the Renaissance +<br />Boyhood Stories of Famous Men +<br />Stories from French History +<br />Stories from English History +<br />Famous English Books and their Stories +<br />Women of the Classics +<br />In the Days of the Guilds +<br />Science through the Ages</span></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pfirst"><em class="italics small">Other volumes in active preparation</em></p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> +</div> +<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> +<div class="backmatter"> +</div> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 38845 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |