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THE 
 
 LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, 
 
 & ®oem. 
 
 IN SIX CANTOS. 
 
 BY 
 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 BOSTON COLLEGE LIBRARY 
 CHESTNUT HILL, MASS. 
 
 ' # 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 WILLIAM SMITH, 113, FLEET STREET. 
 
 * 
 
 MDCCCXXXIX. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 BRADBURV AND EVANS, PRINTERS TO THB QUBBN, 
 WHITEFRIARS. 
 
AV S b 
 
 \ e b'$°\ 
 
 TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
 EARL OF DALKEITH, 
 
 J 
 
 THIS POEM IS INSCRIBED BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 -9 «-* r-j 
 
- 
 
 .4 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The Poem, now offered to the Public, is intended 
 to illustrate the customs and manners, which an- 
 ciently prevailed on the Borders of England and 
 Scotland. The inhabitants, living in a state partly 
 pastoral and partly warlike, and combining habits 
 of constant depredation with the influence of a rude 
 spirit of chivalry, were often engaged in scenes 
 highly susceptible of poetical ornament. As the 
 description of scenery and manners was more the 
 object of the Author, than a combined and regular 
 narrative, the plan of the ancient Metrical Romance 
 was adopted, which allows greater latitude, in this 
 respect, than would be consistent with the dignity 
 of a regular Poem. The same model offered other 
 facilities, as it permits an occasional alteration of mea- 
 sure, which, in some degree, authorises the change 
 
viii 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 of rhythm in the text. The machinery also, adopted 
 from popular belief, would have seemed puerile in a 
 Poem, which did not partake of the rudeness of the 
 old Ballad, or Metrical Romance. 
 
 i / 
 
 For these reasons, the Poem was put into the 
 mouth of an ancient Minstrel, the last of the race, 
 who, as he is supposed to have survived the Revolu- 
 tion, might have caught somewhat of the refinement 
 of modern poetry, without losing the simplicity of 
 his original model. The date of the Tale itself is 
 about the middle of the sixteenth century, when 
 most of the personages actually flourished. The 
 time occupied by the action is three nights and 
 three days. 
 
THE 
 
 LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The way was long, the wind was cold, 
 
 The Minstrel was infirm and old ; 
 
 His withered cheek, and tresses grey, 
 Seemed to have known a better day ; 
 
 The harp, his sole remaining joy, 
 
 Was carried by an orphan boy; 
 
 The last of all the bards was he. 
 
 Who sung of Border Chivalry. 
 
 For, well-a-day ! their date was fled, 
 
 His tuneful brethren all were dead ; 
 
 And he, neglected and oppressed, 
 
 Wished to be with them, and at rest. 
 
 No more, on prancing palfrey borne, 
 
 He carolled, light as lark at morn ; 
 
 No longer courted and caressed, 
 
 High placed in hall, a welcome guest, 
 
 He poured, to lord and lady gay, 
 
 The unpremeditated lay : 
 
 Old times were changed, old manners gone, 
 A stranger filled the Stuarts throne ; 
 
 B 
 
2 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The bigots of the iron time 
 
 Had called his harmless art a crime. 
 
 A wandering Harper, scorned and poor, 
 
 He begged his bread from door to door ; 
 And tuned, to please a peasant's ear, 
 
 The harp a king had loved to hear. 
 
 He passed where Newark's stately tower 
 Looks out from Yarrow’s birchen bower : 
 The Minstrel gazed with wishful eye — 
 
 No humbler resting-place was nigh. 
 
 With hesitating step, at last, 
 
 The embattled portal- arch he passed, 
 Whose ponderous grate and massy bar 
 Had oft rolled back the tide of war, 
 
 But never closed the iron door 
 Against the desolate and poor. 
 
 The Duchess* marked his weary pace, 
 
 His timid mien, and reverend face, 
 
 And bade her page the menials tell 
 That they should tend the old man well : 
 For she had known adversity, 
 
 Though born in such a high degree ; 
 
 In pride of power, in beauty's bloom, 
 
 Had wept o’er Monmouth’s bloody tomb ! 
 
 When kindness had his wants supplied, 
 And the old man was gratified, 
 
 Began to rise his minstrel pride : 
 
 And he began to talk anon, 
 
 Of good Earl Francist, dead and gone, 
 
 * Anne, Duchess of Buccleueh and Monmouth, representa- 
 tive of the ancient lords of Buccleuch, and widow of the un- 
 fortunate James, Duke of Monmouth, who was beheaded in 
 1685. 
 
 t Francis Scott, Earl of Buccleuch, father of the Duchess. 
 
INTRODUCTION, 
 
 3 
 
 And of Earl Walter*, rest him God ! 
 
 A braver ne’er to battle rode : 
 
 And how full many a tale he knew, 
 
 Of the old warriors of Buccleuch ; 
 
 And, would the noble "Duchess deign 
 To listen to an old man’s strain, 
 
 Though stiff his hand, his voice though weak, 
 He thought even yet, the sooth to speak, 
 
 That, if she loved the harp to hear, 
 
 He could make music to her ear. 
 
 The humble boon was soon obtained ; 
 
 The Aged Minstrel audience gained ; 
 
 But, when he reached the room of state. 
 Where she, with all her ladies, sate, 
 
 Perchance he wished his boon denied : 
 
 For, when to tune his harp he tried, 
 
 His trembling hand had lost the ease 
 Which marks security to please ; 
 
 And scenes, long past, of joy and pain, 
 
 Came wildering o’er his aged brain — 
 
 He tried to tune his harp in vain. 
 
 The pitying Duchess praised its chime, 
 
 And gave him heart, and gave him time, 
 
 Till every string’s according glee 
 Was blended into harmony. 
 
 And then, he said, he would full fain 
 He could recal an ancient strain, 
 
 He never thought to sing again. 
 
 It was not framed for village churls, 
 
 But for high dames and mighty earls ; 
 
 He had played it to King Charles the Good, 
 When he kept court in Holy rood ; 
 
 And much he wished, yet feared, to try 
 The long-forgotten melody. — 
 
 * Walter, Earl of Buccleuch, grandfather of the Duchess, 
 and a celebrated warrior. 
 
 b 2 
 
4 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Amid the strings his fingers strayed, 
 
 And an uncertain warbling made, 
 
 And oft he shook his hoary head : 
 
 But when he caught the measure wild, 
 The old man raised his face, and smiled ; 
 And lightened up his faded eye, 
 
 With all a poet’s ecstasy ! 
 
 In varying cadence, soft or strong, 
 
 He swept the sounding chords along : 
 The present scene, the future lot, 
 
 His toils, his wants, were all forgot : 
 
 Cold diffidence, and age's frost, 
 
 In the full tide of song were lost ; 
 
 Each blank, in faithless memory void, 
 The poet's glowing thought supplied ; 
 And, while his harp responsive rung, 
 'Twas thus the Latest Minstrel sung. 
 
 \ 
 
 * 
 
CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 The feast was over in Branksome tower, 
 
 And the Ladye had gone to her secret bower ; 
 
 Her bower that was guarded by word and by spell, 
 Deadly to hear, and deadly to tell — 
 
 Jesu Maria, shield us well ! 
 
 No living wight, save the Ladye alone, 
 
 Had dared to cross the threshold stone. 
 
 n. 
 
 The tables were drawn, it was idlesse all ; 
 
 Knight, and page, and household squire, 
 Loitered through the lofty hall, 
 
 Or crowded round the ample fire : 
 
 The stag-hounds, weary with the chase, 
 
 Lay stretched upon the rushy floor, 
 
 And urged, in dreams, the forest-race, 
 
 From Teviot-stone to Eskdale-moor. 
 
 in. 
 
 Nine-and-twenty knights of fame 
 
 Hung their shields in Branksome Hall ; 
 Nine-and-twenty squires of name 
 
 Brought them their steeds from bower to stall ; 
 
6 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST 3IINSTREL. [cANTO I. 
 
 Nine-and-twenty yeomen tall 
 Waited, duteous, on them all ; 
 
 They were all knights of mettle true, 
 Kinsmen to the hold Buccleuch. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Ten of them were sheathed in steel, 
 
 With belted sword, and spur on heel : 
 
 They quitted not their harness bright, 
 
 Neither by day, nor yet by night : 
 
 They lay down to rest 
 With corslet laced, 
 
 Pillowed on buckler cold and hard ; 
 
 They carved at the meal 
 With gloves of steel, 
 
 And they drank the red wine through the helmet 
 barred. 
 
 v. 
 
 Ten squires, ten yeomen, mail-clad men, 
 
 Waited the beck of the warders ten ; 
 
 Thirty steeds, both fleet and wight, 
 
 Stood saddled in stable day and night, 
 
 Barbed with frontlet of steel, I trow, 
 
 And with Jedwood-axe at saddle-bow; 
 
 A hundred more fed free in stall : — 
 
 Such was the custom of Branksome Hall. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Why do these steeds stand ready dight ? — 
 
 Why watch these warriors, armed, by night ? — 
 They watch, to hear the blood-hound baying ; 
 They watch, to hear the war-horn braying, 
 
 To see St. George's red cross streaming, 
 
 T o see the midnight beacon gleaming ; 
 
 They watch, against Southern force and guile, 
 Lest Scroop, or Howard, or Percy's powers, 
 Threaten Branksome’s lordly towers, 
 
 From Wark worth, or Naworth, or merry Carlisle. 
 
CANTO i.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 7 
 
 VII. 
 
 Such is the custom of Branksoine-Hall. — 
 Many a valiant knight is here ; 
 
 But he, the Chieftain of them all, 
 
 His sword hangs rusting on the walk 
 Beside his broken spear. 
 
 Bards long shall tell, 
 
 How Lord Walter fell ! 
 
 When startled burghers fled, afar, 
 
 The furies of the Border war ; 
 
 When the streets of high Dunedin 
 Saw lances gleam, and falchions redden, 
 And heard the slogan's * deadly yell — 
 Then the Chief of Branksome fell. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Can piety the discord heal, 
 
 Or staunch the death-feud's enmity ? 
 
 Can Christian lore, can patriot zeal, 
 
 Can love of blessed charity ? 
 
 No ! vainly to each holy shrine. 
 
 In mutual pilgrimage they drew ; 
 
 Implored, in vain, the grace divine 
 
 For chiefs, their own red falchions slew ! 
 
 While Cessford owns the rule of Car, 
 While Ettrick boasts the line of Scott, 
 
 The slaughtered chiefs, the mortal jar, 
 
 The havoc of the feudal war, 
 
 Shall never, never be forgot ! 
 
 IX. 
 
 In sorrow, o’er Lord Walter’s bier 
 The warlike foresters had bent ; 
 
 And many a flower, and many a tear, 
 
 Old Teviot's maids and matrons lent : 
 
 * The war-cry, or gathering word, of a Border clan. 
 
8 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [canto I. 
 
 But o'er her warriors bloody bier 
 The Ladye dropped nor flower nor tear ! 
 Vengeance, deep-brooding o'er the slain, 
 
 Had locked the source of softer woe ; 
 
 And burning pride, and high disdain, 
 
 Forbade the rising tear to flow ; 
 
 Until, amid his sorrowing clan, 
 
 Her son lisped from the nurse's knee — 
 
 “ And, if 1 live to be a man, 
 
 My father's death revenged shall be ! ” 
 
 Then fast the mother's tears did seek 
 To dew the infant's kindling cheek. 
 
 x. 
 
 All loose her negligent attire, 
 
 All loose her golden hair, 
 
 Hung Margaret o’er her slaughtered sire, 
 And wept in wild despair. 
 
 But not alone the bitter tear 
 Had filial grief supplied ; 
 
 For hopeless love, and anxious fear, 
 
 Had lent their mingled tide : 
 
 Nor in her mother’s altered eye 
 Dared she to look for sympathy. 
 
 Her lover, ’gainst her father's clan, 
 With Car in arms had stood, 
 
 When Mathouse-burn to Melrose ran, 
 All purple with their blood ; 
 
 And well she knew, her mother dread. 
 Before Lord Cranstoun she should wed, 
 Would see her on her dying bed. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Of noble race the Ladye came : 
 Her father was a clerk of fame, 
 Of Bethune's line of Picardie : 
 
9 
 
 CANTO i.] the lay of the last minstrel. 
 
 He learned the art, that none may name, 
 
 In Padua, far beyond the sea. 
 
 Men said, he changed his mortal frame 
 By feat of magic mystery ; 
 
 For when, in studious mood, he paced 
 St. Andrew’s cloistered hall, 
 
 His form no darkening shadow traced 
 Upon the sunny wall ! 
 
 XII. 
 
 And of his skill, as hards avow, 
 
 He taught that Ladye fair, 
 
 Till to her bidding she could bow 
 The viewless forms of air. 
 
 And now she sits in secret bower, 
 
 In old Lord David’s western tower, 
 
 And listens to a heavy sound, 
 
 That moans the mossy turrets round. 
 
 Is it the roar of Teviot’s tide, 
 
 That chafes against the scaurs* red side ? 
 
 Is it the wind that swings the oaks ? 
 
 Is it the echo from the rocks ? 
 
 What may it be, the heavy sound, 
 
 That moans old Branksome’s turrets round ? 
 
 xnr. 
 
 At the sullen, moaning sound, 
 
 The ban-dogs bay and howl ; 
 And, from the turrets round, 
 
 Loud whoops the startled owl. 
 
 In the hall, botfi squire and knight 
 Swore that a storm was near, 
 
 And looked forth to view the night ; 
 But the night was still and clear ! 
 
 * Scdllfri , a precipitous bank of earth. 
 
10 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 [CANTO I. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 From the sound of Teviot’s tide, 
 
 Chafing with the mountain s side, 
 
 From the groan of the wind- swung oak, 
 From the sullen echo of the rock, 
 
 From the voice of the coming storm, 
 
 The Ladye knew it well ! 
 
 It was the Spirit of the Flood that spoke, 
 And he called on the Spirit of the Fell. 
 
 XV. 
 
 RIVER SPIRIT. 
 
 “ Sleep’st thou, brother ! ” 
 
 MOUNTAIN SPIRIT. 
 
 — “ Brother, nay — 
 
 On my hills the moon-beams play. 
 
 From Craig -cross to Skelf hill-pen, 
 
 By every rill, in every glen, 
 
 Merry elves their morrice pacing, 
 
 To aerial minstrelsy, 
 
 Emerald rings on brown heath tracing, 
 Trip it deft and merrily. 
 
 Up, and mark their nimble feet ! 
 
 Up, and list their music sweet ! ” 
 
 XVI. 
 
 RIVER SPIRIT. 
 
 “ Tears of an imprisoned maiden 
 Mix w r ith my polluted stream ; 
 Margaret of Blank some, sorrow-laden, 
 Mourns beneath the moon’s pale beam. 
 Tell me, thou who viewest the stars, 
 When shall cease these feudal jars? 
 
 What shall be the maidens fate ? 
 
 Who shall be the maiden s mate ? ” 
 
CANTO I.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 11 
 
 XVII. 
 
 MOUNTAIN SPIRIT. 
 
 “ Arthurs slow wain his course doth roll, 
 
 In utter darkness, round the pole ; 
 
 The Northern Bear lowers black and grim ; 
 Orion’s studded belt is dim ; 
 
 Twinkling faint, and distant far, 
 
 Shimmers through mist each planet star ; 
 
 111 may I read their high decree ! 
 
 But no kind influence deign they shower 
 On Teviot’s tide, and Branksome’s tower, 
 
 Till pride be quelled, and love be free.” 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 The unearthly voices ceased, 
 
 And the heavy sound was still ; 
 
 It died on the rivers breast, 
 
 It died on the side of the hill. — 
 
 But round Lord David’s tower 
 The sound still floated near ; 
 
 For it rung in the Ladye’s bower, 
 
 And it rung in the Ladye’s ear. 
 
 She raised her stately head, 
 
 And her heart throbbed high with pride : — 
 “ Your mountains shall bend, 
 
 And your streams ascend, 
 
 Ere Margaret be our foeman’s bride ! ” 
 
 XIX. 
 
 The Ladye sought the lofty hall, 
 
 Where many a bold retainer lay, 
 
 And, with jocund din, among them all, 
 
 Her son pursued his infant play. 
 
 A fancied moss-trooper, the boy 
 The truncheon of a spear bestrode, 
 
 And round the hall, right merrily, 
 
 In mimic foray rode. 
 
 4 
 
12 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO I. 
 
 Even bearded knights, in arms grown old, 
 
 Share in his frolic gambols bore, 
 
 Albeit their hearts, of rugged mould, 
 
 Were stubborn as the steel they wore. 
 
 For the grey warriors prophesied, 
 
 How the brave boy, in future war, 
 
 Should tame the Unicorns pride, 
 
 Exalt the Crescents and the Star *. 
 
 * XX. 
 
 The Ladye forgot her purpose high, 
 
 One moment, and no more ; 
 
 One moment gazed with a mother’s eye, 
 As she paused at the arched door : 
 Then, from amid the armed train, 
 
 She called to her William of Deloraine. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 A stark moss-trooping Scott w r as he, 
 
 As e’er couched border lance by knee : 
 Through Solway sands, through Tarras moss, 
 Blindfold, he knew the paths to cross ; 
 
 By wily turns, by desperate bounds, 
 
 Had baffled Percy’s best blood-hounds ; 
 
 In Eske, or Liddel, fords were none, 
 
 But he would ride them, one by one ; 
 
 Alike to him was time or tide, 
 
 December’s snow, or J uly’s pride ; 
 
 Alike to him was tide or time, 
 
 Moonless midnight, or matin prime : 
 
 Steady of heart, and stout of hand, 
 
 As ever drove prey from Cumberland ; 
 
 Five times outlawed had he been, 
 
 By England’s king, and Scotland’s queen. 
 
 * Alluding to the armorial hearings of the Scotts and Cars. 
 
CANTO I.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 13 
 
 XXII. 
 
 “ Sir William of Deloraine, good at need, 
 Mount thee on the wightest steed ; 
 
 Spare not to spur, nor stint to ride, 
 
 Until thou come to fair Tweedside ; 
 
 And in Melrose's holy pile 
 Seek thou the Monk of St. Mary's aisle. 
 Greet the Father well from me ; 
 
 Say, that the fated hour is come, 
 
 And to-night he shall watch with thee, 
 To win the treasure of the tomb : 
 
 For this will be St. Michael's night, 
 
 And, though stars be dim, the moon is bright ; 
 And the Cross, of bloody red, 
 
 Will point to the grave of the mighty dead. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 u What he gives thee, see thou keep ; 
 Stay not thou for food or sleep : 
 
 Be it scroll, or be it book, 
 
 Into it, knight, thou must not look ; 
 If thou readest, thou art lorn ! 
 
 Better had'st thou ne'er been born." 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 66 O swiftly can speed my dapple-grey steed, 
 Which drinks of the Teviot clear; 
 
 Ere break of day," the warrior ’gan say, 
 u Again will I be here : 
 
 And safer by none may thy errand be done, 
 Than, noble dame, by me ; 
 
 Letter nor line know I never a one, 
 
 Were't my neck* verse at Hairibee.” 
 
 I 
 
14 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO I. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Soon in his saddle sate he fast, 
 
 And soon the steep descent he passed, 
 
 Soon crossed the sounding barbican *, 
 
 And soon the Teviot side he won. 
 
 Eastward the wooded path he rode ; 
 
 Green hazels o'er his basnet nod : 
 
 He passed the Peel t of Goldiland, 
 
 And crossed old Borthwick's roaring strand ; 
 Dimly he viewed the Moat-hill’s mound, 
 
 Where Druid shades still flitted round : 
 
 In Hawick twinkled many a light ; 
 
 Behind him soon they set in night ; 
 
 And soon he spurred his courser keen 
 Beneath the tower of Hazeldean. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 The clattering hoofs the watchmen mark ; — 
 u Stand, ho ! thou courier of the dark. 5 ' 
 
 “ For Branksome, ho !” the knight rejoined, 
 
 And left the friendly tower behind. 
 
 He turned him now from Teviotside, 
 
 And, guided by the tinkling rill, 
 
 Northward the dark ascent did ride, 
 
 And gained the moor at Horseliehill : 
 
 Broad on the left before him lay, 
 
 For many a mile, the Roman way 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 A moment now he slacked his speed, 
 
 A moment breathed his panting steed ; 
 
 Drew saddle-girth and corslet band, 
 
 And loosened in the sheath his brand. 
 
 * Barbican , the defence of the outer gate of a feudal castle, 
 t Peel , a Border tower. 
 
 % An ancient Roman road, crossing through part of Roxburghshire. 
 
15 
 
 r 0 i.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 On Minto -crags the moon-beams glint, 
 
 Where Barnhill hewed his bed of flint ; 
 
 Who flung his outlawed limbs to rest, 
 
 W T here falcons hang their giddy nest, 
 
 Mid cliffs, from whence his eagle eye, 
 
 For many a league, his prey could spy ; 
 
 Cliffs, doubling, on their echoes borne, 
 
 The terrors of the robbers horn ; 
 
 Cliffs, which, for many a later year, 
 
 The warbling Doric reed shall hear, 
 
 When some sad swain shall teach the grove, 
 Ambition is no cure for love. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Unchallenged, thence passed Deloraine 
 To ancient Riddel's fair domain, 
 
 Where Aill, from mountains freed, # 
 
 Down from the lakes did raving come ; 
 
 Each wave was crested with tawny foam, 
 
 Like the mane of a chestnut steed. 
 
 In vain ! no torrent, deep or broad, 
 
 Might bar the bold moss-trooper’s road. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 At the first plunge the horse sunk low, 
 
 And the water broke o’er the saddle-bow ; 
 
 Above the foaming tide, I ween, 
 
 Scarce half the chargers neck tvas seen ; 
 
 For he was barded * from counter to tail, 
 
 And the rider was armed complete in mail ; 
 
 Never heavier man and horse 
 Stemmed a midnight torrent's force ; 
 
 The warriors very plume, I say, 
 
 Was daggled by the dashing spray ; 
 
 Yet, through good heart, and Our Ladye’s grace, 
 At length he gained the landing place. 
 
 * Barded, or barbed, applied to a horse accoutred with de- 
 fensive armour. 
 
16 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [canto I. 
 
 xxx. 
 
 Now Bowden Moor the march-man won, 
 And sternly shook his plumed head, 
 
 As glanced his eye o’er Halidon* ; 
 
 For on his soul the slaughter red 
 Of that unhallowed morn arose, 
 
 When first the Scott and Car were foes ; 
 When royal James beheld the fray, 
 
 Prize to the victor of the day ; 
 
 When Home and Douglas, in the van, 
 Bore down Buccleucli’s retiring clan. 
 
 Till gallant Cessford’s heart-blood dear 
 Reeked on dark Elliot’s Border spear. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 In bitter mood he spurred fast, 
 
 And soon the hated heath was passed ; 
 
 And far beneath, in lustre wan, 
 
 Old Melros’ rose, and fair T weed ran : 
 
 Like some tall rock with lichens grey, 
 
 Seemed, dimly huge, the dark Abbaye. 
 
 When Hawick he passed, had curfew rung, 
 Now midnight lauds t were in Melrose sung. 
 The sound, upon the fitful gale, 
 
 In solemn wise did rise and fail, 
 
 Like that wild harp, whose magic tone 
 Is wakened by the winds alone. 
 
 But when Melrose he reached, ’twas silence all ; 
 He meetly stabled his steed in stall, 
 
 And sought the convent’s lonely wall. 
 
 Here paused the harp ; and with its swell 
 The Master’s fire and courage fell : 
 
 * Halidon-Hill, on which the battle of Melrose was fought, 
 t Lauds , the midnight service of the Catholic church. 
 
I.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 Dejectedly, and low, he bowed, 
 
 And, gazing timid on the crowd, 
 
 He seemed to seek, in every eye, 
 
 If they approved his minstrelsy ; 
 
 And, diffident of present praise, 
 
 Somewhat he spoke of former days, 
 
 And how old age, and wandering long, 
 Had done his hand and harp some wrong. 
 
 The Duchess, and her daughters fair, 
 And every gentle ladye there, 
 
 Each after each, in due degree, 
 
 Gave praises to his melody ; 
 
 His hand was true, his voice was clear, 
 And much they longed the rest to hear. 
 Encouraged thus, the Aged Man, 
 
 After meet rest, again began. 
 
 END OF CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 If thou would st view fair Melrose aright, 
 
 Go visit it by the pale moon-light ; 
 
 For the gay beams of lightsome day 
 Gild, but to flout, the ruins grey. 
 
 When the broken arches are black in night, 
 And each shafted oriel glimmers white ; 
 
 When the cold light's uncertain shower 
 Streams on the ruined central tower ; 
 
 When buttress and buttress, alternately, 
 
 Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; 
 
 When silver edges the imagery, 
 
 And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die ; 
 When distant Tweed is heard to rave, 
 
 And the owlet to hoot o'er the dead man's grave. 
 Then go — but go alone the while — 
 
 Then view St. David’s ruined pile ; 
 
 And, home returning, soothly swear, 
 
 Was never scene so sad and fair ! 
 
 n. 
 
 Short halt did Deloraine make there , 
 Little recked he of the scene so fair* 
 With dagger's hilt, on the wicket strong, 
 He struck full loud, and struck full long. 
 
CANTO II.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 10 
 
 The porter hurried to the gate — 
 
 “ Who knocks so loud, and knocks so late V — 
 
 66 From Branksome I,” the warrior cried ; 
 
 And straight the wicket opened wide : 
 
 For Branksome's chiefs had in battle stood, 
 
 To fence the rights of fair Melrose ; 
 
 And lands and livings, many a rood, 
 
 Had gifted the shrine for their souls repose. 
 
 hi. 
 
 Bold Deloraine his errand said ; 
 
 The porter bent his humble head ; 
 
 With torch in hand, and feet unshod, 
 
 And noiseless step, the path he trod : 
 
 The arched cloisters, far and wide, 
 
 Rang to the warriors clanking stride ; 
 
 Till, stooping low his lofty crest. 
 
 He entered the cell of the ancient priest, 
 
 And lifted his barred aventayle*, 
 
 To hail the monk of St. Mary's aisle. 
 
 IV. 
 
 u The Ladye of Branksome greets thee by me ; 
 
 Says, that the fated hour .is come, 
 
 And that to-night I shall watch with thee, 
 
 To win the treasure of the tomb." — 
 
 From sackcloth couch the Monk arose, 
 
 With toil his stiffened limbs he reared ; 
 
 A hundred years had flung their snows 
 On his thin locks and floating beard. 
 
 And strangely on the Knight looked he, 
 
 And his blue eyes gleamed wild and wide ; — 
 66 And dar st thou, warrior ! seek to see 
 What heaven and hell alike would hide ? 
 
 * Aventayle, visor of the helmet, 
 c 2 
 
20 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO II. 
 
 My breast, in belt of iron pent, 
 
 With shirt of hair and scourge of thorn ; 
 
 For threescore years, in penance spent, 
 
 My knees those flinty stones have worn ; 
 
 Y et all too little to atone 
 F or knowing what should ne’er* be known. 
 
 Would’st thou thy every future year 
 In ceaseless prayer and penance dree, 
 
 Yet wait thy latter end with fear — 
 
 Then, daring warrior, follow me !” — 
 
 YI. 
 
 “ Penance, father, will I none ; 
 
 Prayer know I hardly one ; 
 
 For mass or prayer can I rarely tarry, 
 
 Save to patter an Ave Mary, 
 
 When I ride on a Border foray : 
 
 Other prayer can I none ; 
 
 So speed me my errand, and let me begone.” — 
 
 VII. 
 
 Again on the Knight looked the Churchman old, 
 
 And again he sighed heavily ; 
 
 For he had himself been a warrior bold, 
 
 And fought in Spain and Italy. 
 
 And he thought on the days that were long since by, 
 When his limbs were strong, and his courage was high : 
 Now, slow and faint, he led the way, 
 
 Where, cloistered round, the garden lay ; 
 
 The pillared arches w r ere over their head, 
 
 And beneath their feet were the bones of the dead. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Spreading herbs, and flowerets bright, 
 
 Glistened with the dew of night ; 
 
 Nor herb, nor floweret, glistened there, 
 
 But was carved in the cloisters-arches as fair. 
 
CANTO II.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 21 
 
 The Monk gazed long on the lovely moon, 
 Then into the night he looked forth ; 
 
 And red and bright the streamers light 
 Were dancing in the glowing north. 
 
 So had he seen, in fair Castile, 
 
 The youth in glittering squadrons start, 
 Sudden the flying jennet wheel, 
 
 And hurl the unexpected dart. 
 
 He knew, by the streamers that shot so bright, 
 That spirits were riding the northern light. 
 
 IX. 
 
 By a steel-clenched postern door, 
 
 They entered now the chancel tall ; • 
 
 The darkened roof rose high aloof 
 On pillars, lofty, and light, and small ; 
 
 The key-stone, that locked each ribbed aisle, 
 
 Was a fleur-de-lys, or a quatre-feuille ; 
 
 The corbells * were carved grotesque and grim ; 
 And the pillars, with clustered shafts so trim, 
 
 With base and with capital flourished around, 
 Seemed bundles of lances which garlands had bound. 
 
 x. 
 
 F ull many a scutcheon and banner, riven, 
 
 Shook to the cold night-wind of heaven, 
 
 Around the screened altars pale ; 
 
 And there the dying lamps did burn 
 Before thy low and lonely urn, 
 
 O gallant chief of Otterburne ! 
 
 And thine, dark knight of Liddesdale ! 
 
 O fading honours of the dead ! 
 
 O high ambition, lowly laid ! 
 
 * Corbells , the projections from which the arches spring, usually 
 cut in a fantastic face, or mask. 
 
22 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, [cANTO II. 
 
 , XI. 
 
 The moon on the east oriel shone, 
 
 Through slender shafts of shapely stone, 
 
 By foliaged tracery combined ; 
 
 Thou wouldst have thought some fairy’s hand 
 ’T wixt poplars straight the osier wand, 
 
 In many a freakish knot, had twined ; 
 
 Then framed a spell, when the work was done, 
 And changed the willow-wreaths to stone. 
 
 The silver light, so pale and faint, 
 
 Shewed many a prophet, and many a saint, 
 Whose image on the glass was dyed ; 
 
 Full in the midst, his Cross of Red 
 Triumphant Michael brandished, 
 
 And trampled the Apostate’s pride. 
 
 The moon-beam kissed the holy pane, 
 
 And threw on the pavement a bloody stain. 
 
 XII. 
 
 They sate them down on a marble stone, 
 
 A Scottish monarch slept below ; 
 
 Thus spoke the Monk, in solemn tone : — 
 
 “ I was not always a man of woe ; 
 
 For Paynim countries I have trod, 
 
 And fought beneath the Cross of God : 
 
 Now, strange to my eyes thine arms appear, 
 
 And their iron clang sounds strange to my ear. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 “ In these far climes, it w’as my lot 
 T o meet the wondTous Michael Scott ; 
 
 A wizard of such dreaded fame, 
 
 That when, in Salamanca’s cave, 
 
 Him listed his magic wand to wave, 
 
 The bells would ring in Notre Dame ! 
 
 Some of his skill he taught to me ; 
 
 And, Warrior, I could say to thee 
 
CANTO II.] the lay of the last minstrel. 
 
 23 
 
 The words, that cleft Eildon hills in three, 
 
 And bridled the T weed with a curb of stone : 
 But to speak them were a deadly sin ; 
 
 And for having but thought them my heart within, 
 A treble penance must be done. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 “ When Michael lay on his dying bed, 
 
 His conscience was awakened ; 
 
 He bethought him of his sinful deed, 
 
 And he gave me a sign to come with speed : 
 
 I was in Spain when the morning rose, 
 
 But I stood by his bed ere evening close. 
 
 The words may not again be said, 
 
 That he spoke to me, on death -bed laid ; 
 
 They would rend this Abbaye’s massy nave, 
 
 And pile it in heaps above his grave. 
 
 XV. 
 
 “ I swore to bury his Mighty Book, 
 
 That never mortal might therein look ; 
 
 And never to tell where it was hid, 
 
 Save at his chief of Branksome’s need : 
 
 And when that need was past and o’er, 
 
 Again the volume to restore. 
 
 I buried him on St. Michael’s night, 
 
 When the bell tolled one, and the moon was bright ; 
 And I dug his chamber among the dead, 
 
 When the floor of the chancel was stained red, 
 
 That his patron’s Cross might over him wave, 
 
 And scare the fiends from the Wizard’s grave. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 “ It was a night of woe and dread, 
 
 When Michael in the tomb I laid ! 
 
 Strange sounds along the chancel passed, 
 
 The banners waved without a blast,” — 
 
24 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO 
 
 Still spoke the Monk, when the bell tolled One ! — 
 
 I tell you, that a braver man 
 
 Than William of Deloraine, good at need, 
 
 Against a foe ne’er spurred a steed ; 
 
 Yet somewhat was he chilled with dread, 
 
 And his hair did bristle upon his head. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 “Lo, Warrior ! now the Cross of Red 
 Points to the grave of the mighty dead ; 
 
 Within it burns a wondrous light, 
 
 To chase the spirits that love the night : 
 
 That lamp shall burn unquenchably, 
 
 Until the eternal doom shall be.” — 
 
 Slow moved the Monk to the broad flag-stone, 
 Which the bloody Cross was traced upon : 
 
 He pointed to a secret nook ; 
 
 An iron bar the Warrior took ; 
 
 And the Monk made a sign with his withered hand, 
 The grave’s huge portal to expand. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 With beating heart to the task he went ; 
 
 His sinewy frame o’er the grave-stone bent ; 
 With bar of iron heaved amain, 
 
 Till the toil-drops fell from his brows, like rain. 
 It was by dint of passing strength, 
 
 That he moved the massy stone at length. 
 
 I would you had been there, to see 
 How the light broke forth so gloriously, 
 Streamed upward to the chancel roof, 
 
 And through the galleries far aloof ! 
 
 No earthly flame blazed e’er so bright : 
 
 It shone like heaven’s own blessed light, 
 
 And, issuing from the tomb, 
 
 Shewed the Monk’s cowl, and visage pale, 
 Danced on the dark-brow’d Warrior’s mail, 
 And kiss’d his waving plume. 
 
CANTO II.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 25 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Before their eyes the Wizard lay, 
 
 As if he had not been dead a day. 
 
 His hoary beard in silver rolled, 
 
 He seemed some seventy winters old ; 
 
 A palmer’s amice wrapped him round, 
 With a wrought Spanish baldric bound, 
 Like a pilgrim from beyond the sea ; 
 His left hand held his Book of Might ; 
 
 A silver cross was in his right ; 
 
 The lamp was placed beside his knee : 
 High and majestic was his look, 
 
 At which the fellest fiends had shook, 
 
 And all unruffled was his face : — 
 
 They trusted his soul had gotten grace. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Often had William of Deloraine 
 Rode through the battle’s bloody plain, 
 
 And trampled down the warriors slain, 
 
 And neither known remorse or awe : 
 
 Y et now remorse and awe he owned, 
 
 His breath came thick, his head swam round, 
 When this strange scene of death he saw. 
 Bewildered and unnerved he stood, 
 
 And the priest prayed fervently, and loud : 
 With eyes averted prayed he ; 
 
 He might not endure the sight to see, 
 
 Of the man he had loved so brotherly. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 And when the priest his death-prayer had prayed, 
 Thus unto Deloraine he said : — 
 u Now, speed thee what thou hast to do, 
 
 Or, W arrior, we may dearly rue ; 
 
 For those, thou mayest not look upon, 
 
 Are gathering fast round the yawning stone ! ” — 
 
26 
 
 THE LAY OP THE LAST MINSTREL. [c'ANTO II. 
 
 Then Deloraine, in terror, took 
 From the cold hand the Mighty Book, 
 
 With iron clasped, and with iron bound : 
 
 He thought, as he took it, the dead man frowned ; 
 But the glare of the sepulchral light, 
 
 Perchance, had dazzled the Warrior’s sight. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 When the huge stone sunk o’er the tomb, 
 
 The night returned, in double gloom ; 
 
 For the moon had gone down, and the stars were few ; 
 And, as the Knight and Priest withdrew, 
 
 With wavering steps and dizzy brain, 
 
 They hardly might the postern gain. 
 
 ’Tis said, as through the aisles they passed, 
 
 They heard strange noises on the blast ; 
 
 And through the cloister-galleries small, 
 
 Which at mid -height t hread the chancel wall. 
 
 Loud sobs, and laughter louder, ran, 
 
 And voices unlike the voice of man ; 
 
 As if the fiends kept holiday, 
 
 Because these spells were brought to day. 
 
 I cannot tell how the truth may be ; 
 
 I say the tale as ’twas said to me. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 u Now, hie thee hence,” the Father said, 
 u And, when we are on death-bed laid, 
 
 O may our dear Ladye, and sweet St. John, 
 
 Forgive our souls for the deed we have done ! ” — 
 
 The Monk returned him to his cell, 
 
 And many a prayer and penance sped : 
 
 When the convent met at the noontide bell — 
 
 The Monk of St, Mary’s aisle was dead i 
 Before the cross was the body laid, 
 
 With hands clasped fast, as if still he prayed. 
 
CANTO II.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 27 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The Knight breathed free in the morning wind, 
 And strove his hardihood to find : 
 
 He was glad when he passed the tombstones grey, 
 Which girdle round the fair Abbaye ; 
 
 For the Mystic Book, to his bosom pressed, 
 
 Felt like a load upon his breast ; 
 
 And his joints, with nerves of iron twined, 
 
 Shook, like the aspen leaves in w T ind. 
 
 Full fain was he when the dawn of day 
 Began to brighten Cheviot grey ; 
 
 He joyed to see the cheerful light, 
 
 And he said Ave Mary, as well as he might. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 The sun had brightened Cheviot grey, 
 
 The sun had brightened the Carter’s * side ; 
 
 And soon beneath the rising day 
 
 Smiled Branksome Towers and Teviot’s tide. 
 
 The wild birds told their warbling tale, 
 
 And wakened every flower that blows ; 
 
 And peeped forth the violet pale, 
 
 And spread her breast the mountain rose. 
 
 And lovelier than the rose so red, 
 
 Y et paler than the violet pale, 
 
 She early left her sleepless bed, 
 
 The fairest maid of Teviotdale. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 W r hy does fair Margaret so early awake, 
 
 And don her kirtle so hastilie ; 
 
 And the silken knots, which in hurry she would make, 
 Why tremble her slender fingers to tie ? 
 
 Why does she stop, and look often around, 
 
 As she glides down the secret stair ? 
 
 * A mountain on the Border of England, above Jedburgh. 
 
28 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO II. 
 
 And why does she pat the shaggy blood-hound, 
 As he rouses him up from his lair ? 
 
 And, though she passes the postern alone, 
 
 Why is not the watchman s bugle blown ? 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 The Ladye steps in doubt and dread, 
 
 Lest her watchful mother hear her tread ; 
 
 The Ladye caresses the rough blood-hound, 
 
 Lest his voice should waken the castle round ; 
 
 The watchman’s bugle is not blown, 
 
 For he was her foster-father’s son ; 
 
 And she glides through the greenwood at dawn of light, 
 To meet Baron Henry, her own true knight. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 The Knight and Ladye fair are met. 
 
 And under the hawthorn s houghs are set. 
 
 A fairer pair were never seen 
 To meet beneath the hawthorn green. 
 
 He was stately, and young, and tall, 
 
 Dreaded in battle, and loved in hall ; 
 
 And she, when love, scarce told, scarce hid, 
 Lent to her cheek a livelier red ; 
 
 When the half sigh her swelling breast 
 Against the silken ribband pressed ; 
 
 When her blue eyes their secret told, 
 
 Though shaded by her locks of gold — 
 
 Where would you find the peerless fair, 
 
 With Margaret of Branksome might compare ! 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 And now, fair dames, methinks I see 
 Y ou listen to my minstrelsy ; 
 
 Your waving locks ye backward throw, 
 And sidelong bend your necks of snow : — 
 
29 
 
 CANTO II.] the lay of the last minstrel. 
 
 Ye ween to hear a melting tale, 
 
 Of two true lovers in a dale ; 
 
 And how the Knight, with tender fire, 
 
 To paint his faithful passion strove ; 
 Swore, he might at her feet expire, 
 
 But never, never cease to love : 
 
 And how she blushed, and how she sighed, 
 And, half consenting, half denied, 
 
 And said that she would die a maid ; — 
 
 Yet, might the bloody feud be stayed, 
 
 Henry of Cranstoun, and only he, 
 
 Margaret of Branksome’s choice should be. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Alas ! fair dames, your hopes are vain ! 
 
 My harp has lost the enchanting strain ; 
 
 Its lightness would my age reprove : 
 
 My hairs are grey, my limbs are old, 
 
 My heart is dead, my veins are cold : — 
 
 I may not, must not, sing of love. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Beneath an oak, mossed o'er by eld, 
 
 The Baron’s Dwarf his courser held, 
 
 And held his crested helm and spear : 
 
 That Dwarf was scarce an earthly man, 
 
 If the tales were true that of him ran 
 Through all the Border, far and near. 
 ’Twas said, when the Baron a-hunting rode 
 Through Reedsdale’s glens, but rarely trod, 
 He heard a voice cry, “ Lost ! lost ! lost ! ” 
 And, like tennis-ball by raquet tost, 
 
 A leap, of thirty feet and three, 
 
 Made from the gorse this elfin shape, 
 Distorted like some dwarfish ape, 
 
 And lighted at Lord Cranstoun’s knee. 
 
30 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO II. 
 
 Lord Cranstoun was some whit dismayed ; 
 
 ’Tis said that five good miles he rade, 
 
 T o rid him of his company ; 
 
 But where he rode one mile, the Dwarf ran four, 
 
 And the Dwarf was first at the castle door. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Use lessens marvel, it is said. 
 
 This elvish Dwarf with the Baron staid ; 
 
 Little he ate, and less he spoke, 
 
 Nor mingled with the menial flock ; 
 
 And oft apart his arms he tossed, 
 
 And often muttered, “ Lost ! lost ! lost ! ” 
 
 He was waspish, arch, and litherlie, 
 
 But well Lord Cranstoun served he : 
 
 And he of his service was full fain ; 
 
 For once he had been ta’en or slain, 
 
 An it had not been his ministry. 
 
 All, between Home and Hermitage, 
 
 Talked of Lord Cranstoun s Goblin-Page. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 For the Baron went on pilgrimage, 
 
 And took with him this elvish Page, 
 
 To Mary’s chapel of the Lowes : 
 
 For there, beside Our Ladye’s lake, 
 
 An offering he had sworn to make, 
 
 And he would pay his vows. 
 
 But the Ladye of Branksome gathered a band 
 Of the best that would ride at her command ; 
 
 The trysting place was Newark Lee. 
 
 W at of Harden came thither amain, 
 
 And thither came John of Thirlestaine, 
 
 And thither came William of Deloraine ; 
 They were three hundred spears and three. 
 
II.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 Through Douglas-bum, up Yarrow stream, 
 Their horses prance, their lances gleam. 
 
 They came to St. Mary’s lake ere day ; 
 
 But the chapel was void, and the Baron away. 
 They turned the chapel for very rage, 
 
 And cursed Lord Cranstoun’s Goblin- Page. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 And now, in Branksome’s good greenwood, 
 As under the aged oak he stood, 
 
 The Baron’s courser pricks his ears, 
 
 As if a distant noise he hears. 
 
 The Dwarf waves his long lean arm on high, 
 And signs to the lovers to part and fly; 
 
 No time was then to vow or sigh. 
 
 Fair Margaret, through the hazel-grove, 
 Flew like the startled cushat- dove : 
 
 The Dwarf the stirrup held and rein ; 
 Vaulted the Knight on his steed amain, 
 
 And, pondering deep that morning’s scene, 
 Rode eastward through the hawthorns green. 
 
 While thus he poured the lengthened tale, 
 The Minstrel’s voice began to fail : 
 
 Full slyly smiled the observant page, 
 
 And gave the withered hand of age 
 A goblet crowned with mighty wine, 
 
 The blood of Velez’ scorched vine. 
 
 He raised the silver cup on high, 
 
 And, while the big drop filled his eye, 
 Prayed God to bless the Duchess long, 
 
 And all who cheered a son of song. 
 
32 
 
 THE LAY OP THE LAST MINSTREL. [canto II. 
 
 The attending maidens smiled to see, 
 
 How long, how deep, how zealously, 
 
 The precious juice the Minstrel quaffed ; 
 And he, emboldened by the draught, 
 Looked gaily back to them, and laughed. 
 The cordial nectar of the bowl 
 Swelled his old veins, and cheered his soul ; 
 A lighter, livelier prelude ran, 
 
 Ere thus his tale again began. 
 
 END OF CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 And said I that my limbs were old, 
 And said I that my blood was cold, 
 
 And that my kindly fire was fled, 
 
 And my poor withered heart was dead, 
 And that I might not sing of love ? — 
 How could I to the dearest theme, 
 
 That ever warmed a minstrel’s dream, 
 
 So foul, so false a recreant prove ! 
 How could I name love’s very name, 
 Nor wake my heart to notes of flame ! 
 
 ii. 
 
 In peace, Love tunes the shepherd’s reed ; 
 
 In war, he mounts the warriors steed ; 
 
 In halls, in gay attire is seen ; 
 
 In hamlets, dances on the green. 
 
 Love rules the camp, the court, the grove, 
 
 And men below, and saints above ; 
 
 For love is heaven, and heaven is love. 
 
 in. 
 
 So thought Lord Cranstoun, as I ween, 
 
 While, pondering deep the tender scene, 
 
 He rode through Branksome’s hawthorns green. 
 
 D 
 
34 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO III. 
 
 But the Page shouted wild and shrill — 
 
 And scarce his helmet could he don, 
 When downward from the shady hill 
 A stately knight came pricking on. 
 
 That warrior’s steed, so dapple-grey. 
 
 Was dark with sweat, and splashed with clay ; 
 
 His armour red with many a stain : 
 
 He seemed in such a weary plight, 
 
 As if he had ridden the live-long night ; 
 
 For it was William of Deloraine. 
 
 IY. 
 
 But no whit weary did he seem, 
 
 When, dancing in the sunny beam, 
 
 He marked the Crane on the Barons crest ; 
 For his ready spear was in his rest. 
 
 Few were the words, and stern and high, 
 That marked the foeman’s feudal hate ; 
 For question fierce, and proud reply, 
 
 Gave signal soon of dire debate. 
 
 Their very coursers seem to know 
 That each was other s mortal foe ; 
 
 And snorted fire, when wheeled around, 
 
 To give each knight his vantage ground. 
 
 In rapid round the Baron bent ; 
 
 He sighed a sigh, and prayed a prayer : 
 
 The prayer was to his patron saint, 
 
 The sigh was to his ladye fair. 
 
 Stout Deloraine nor sighed, nor prayed, 
 
 Nor saint, nor ladye, called to aid ; 
 
 But he stooped his head, and couched his spear, 
 And spurred his steed to full career. 
 
 The meeting of these champions proud 
 Seemed like the bursting thunder-cloud. 
 
CANTO in.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Stern was the dint the Borderer lent ! 
 
 The stately Baron backwards bent ; 
 
 Bent backwards to his horse’s tail, 
 
 And his plumes went scattering on the gale ; 
 The tough ash-spear, so stout and true, 
 
 Into a thousand flinders flew. 
 
 But Cranstouns lance, of more avail, 
 
 Pierced through, like silk, the Borderers mail 
 Through shield, and jack, and acton passed, 
 Deep in his bosom broke at last. — 
 
 Still sate the warrior saddle-fast, 
 
 Till, stumbling in the mortal shock, 
 
 Dow r n went the steed, the girthing broke, 
 Hurled on a heap lay man and horse. 
 
 The Baron onward passed his course ; 
 
 Nor knew — so giddy rolled his brain — 
 
 His foe lay stretched upon the plain. 
 
 VII. 
 
 But when he reined his courser round, 
 
 And saw his foeman on the ground 
 Lie senseless as the bloody clay, 
 
 He bade his Page to staunch the wound, 
 
 And there beside the warrior stay, 
 
 And tend him in his doubtful state, 
 
 And lead him to Branksome castle-gate : 
 
 His noble mind was inly moved 
 For the kinsman of the maid he loved. 
 
 66 This shalt thou do without delay ; 
 
 No longer here myself may stay : 
 
 Unless the swifter I speed away, 
 
 Short shrift will be at my dying day,” — 
 
 VTII. 
 
 Away in speed Lord Cranstoun rode ; 
 
 The Goblin- Page behind abode : 
 
 D 2 
 
THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, [canto 
 
 His lord's command he ne'er withstood, 
 
 Though small his pleasure to do good. 
 
 As the corslet off he took, 
 
 The Dwarf espied the Mighty Book ! 
 
 Much he marvelled, a knight of pride 
 Like a hook-bosomed priest should ride : 
 
 He thought not to search or staunch the wound, 
 Until the secret he had found. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The iron hand, the iron clasp, 
 
 Resisted long the elfin grasp ; 
 
 For when the first he had undone, 
 
 It closed as he the next begun. 
 
 Those iron clasps, that iron band, 
 
 W ould not yield to unchristened hand, 
 
 Till he smeared the cover o'er 
 With the Borderer's curdled gore ; 
 
 A moment then the volume spread, 
 
 And one short spell therein he read. 
 
 It had much of glamour * might, 
 
 Could make a ladye seem a knight ; 
 
 The cobwebs on a dungeon wall 
 Seem tapestry in lordly hall ; 
 
 A nufc-shell seem a gilded barge, 
 
 A sheeling t seem a palace large, 
 
 And youth seem age, and age seem youth — 
 All was delusion, nought was truth. 
 
 x. 
 
 He had not read another spell, 
 
 When on his cheek a buffet fell, 
 
 So fierce, it stretched him on the plain, 
 Beside the wounded Deloraine. 
 
 From the ground he rose dismayed, 
 And shook his huge and matted head ; 
 
 * Magical delusion. 
 
 t A shepherd's hut. 
 
CANTO hi.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 37 
 
 
 One word he muttered, and no more — 
 
 “ Man of age, though smitest sore ! ” 
 
 No more the Elfin Page durst try 
 Into the wondrous Book to pry ; 
 
 The clasps, though smeared with Christian gore, 
 Shut faster than they were before. 
 
 He hid it underneath his cloak. — 
 
 Now, if you ask who gave the stroke, 
 
 I cannot tell, so mot 1 thrive ; 
 
 It was not given by man alive. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Unwillingly himself he addressed 
 To do his masters high behest : 
 
 He lifted up the living corse, 
 
 And laid it on the weary horse ; 
 
 He led him into Branksome hall, 
 
 Before the beards of the warders all ; 
 
 And each did after swear and say, 
 
 There only passed a wain of hay. 
 
 He took him to Lord David’s tower, 
 
 Even to the Ladye’s secret bower ; 
 
 And, but that stronger spells were spread, 
 
 And the door might not be opened, 
 
 He had laid him on her very bed. 
 
 Whate’er he did of gramary e *, 
 
 W as always done maliciously ; 
 
 He flung the warrior on the ground, 
 
 And the blood welled freshly from the wound. 
 
 xir. 
 
 As he repassed the outer court, 
 
 He spied the fair young child at sport : 
 
 He thought to train him to the wood ; 
 
 For, at a word, be it understood, 
 
 He was always for ill and never for good. 
 
 Magic. 
 
38 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 [canto III. 
 
 Seemed to the boy some comrade gay 
 Led him forth to the woods to play ; 
 
 On the drawbridge the warders stout 
 Saw a terrier and lurcher passing out. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 He led the boy o’er bank and fell, 
 
 Until they came to a woodland brook ; 
 
 The running stream dissolved the spell, 
 
 And his own elvish shape he took. 
 
 Could he have had his pleasure vilde, 
 
 He had crippled the joints of the noble child ; 
 Or, with his fingers long and lean, 
 
 Had strangled him in fiendish spleen : 
 
 But his awful mother he had in dread, 
 
 And also his power was limited ; 
 
 So he but scowled on the startled child, 
 
 And darted through the forest wild ; 
 
 The woodland brook he bounding crossed, 
 
 And laughed, and shouted, si Lost ! lost ! lost V* 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Full sore amazed at the wondrous change, 
 And frightened, as a child might be, 
 
 At the wild yell and visage strange, 
 
 And the dark words of gramarye, 
 
 The child, amidst the forest bower, 
 
 Stood rooted like a lily flower ; 
 
 And when at length, with trembling pace, 
 He sought to find wdiere Branksome lay, 
 He feared to see that grisly face 
 
 Glare from some thicket on his way. 
 Thus, starting oft, he journeyed on, 
 
 And deeper in the wood is gone, — 
 
 For aye the more he sought his way, 
 
 The farther still he went astray, — 
 
 Until he heard the mountains round 
 Ring to the baying of a hound. 
 
CANTO III.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 XV. 
 
 And hark ! and hark ! the deep-mouthed bark 
 Comes nigher still, and nigher ; 
 
 Bursts on the path a dark blood- hound, 
 
 His tawny muzzle tracked the ground, 
 
 And his red eye shot fire. 
 
 Soon as the wildered child saw he, 
 
 He flew at him right furiouslie. 
 
 I ween you would have seen with joy 
 The hearing of the gallant boy, 
 
 When, worthy of his noble sire, 
 
 His wet cheek glowed ’twixt fear and ire ! 
 
 He faced the blood- hound manfully, 
 
 And held his little bat on high ; ^ 
 
 So fierce he struck, the dog, afraid, 
 
 At cautious distance hoarsely bayed, 
 
 But still in act to spring ; 
 
 When dashed an archer through the glade, 
 And when he saw the hound was stayed, 
 
 He drew his tough bow-string ; 
 
 But a rough voice cried, “ Shoot not, hoy ! 
 
 Ho ! shoot not, Edward — ’tis a boy !” — 
 
 XVI. 
 
 The speaker issued from the wood, 
 
 And checked his fellow's surly mood, 
 
 And quelled the ban-dog's ire : 
 
 He was an English yeoman good, 
 
 And born in Lancashire. 
 
 Well could he hit a fallow deer 
 Five hundred feet him fro ; 
 
 With hand more true, and eye more clear, 
 
 No archer bended bow. 
 
 His coal-black hair, shorn round and close, 
 Set off his sun-burned face ; 
 
 Old England’s sign, St. George’s cross, 
 
 His barret-cap did grace ; 
 
THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, [canto III. 
 
 His bugle-horn hung by his side, 
 
 All in a wolf-skin baldric tied ; 
 
 And his short faulchion, sharp and clear, 
 
 Had pierced the throat of many a deer. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 His kirtle, made of forest green, 
 
 Reached scantly to his knee ; 
 
 And, at his belt, of arrows keen 
 A furbished sheaf bore he ; 
 
 His buckler scarce in breadth a span, 
 
 No longer fence had he ; 
 
 He never counted him a man 
 Would strike below the knee ; 
 
 .His slackened bow was in his hand, 
 
 An^the leash, that was his blood-hound’s band. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 He would not do the fair child harm, 
 
 But held him with his powerful arm, 
 
 That he might neither fight nor flee ; 
 
 For when the Red- Cross spied he, 
 
 The boy strove long and violently. 
 
 “ Now, by St. George,” the archer cries, 
 
 “ Edward, methinks we have a prize ! 
 
 This boy’s fair face, and courage free, 
 
 Shew he is come of high degree.” — 
 
 XIX. 
 
 u Yes ; I am come of high degree, 
 
 For I’m the heir of bold Buccleuch ; 
 
 And, if thou dost not set me free, 
 
 False Southron, thou shalt dearly rue ! 
 
 For Walter of Harden shall come with speed, 
 
 And William of Deloraine, good at need, 
 
 And every Scott from Esk to Tweed ; 
 
 And, if thou dost not let me go, 
 
 Despite thy arrows and thy bow, 
 
 I’ll have thee hanged to feed the crow ! ” — 
 
CANTO III.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 41 
 
 
 « 
 
 XX. 
 
 “ Gramercy, for thy good will, fair boy ! 
 
 My mind was never set so high ; 
 
 But if thou art chief of such a clan, 
 
 And art the son of such a man, 
 
 And ever comest to thy command, 
 
 Our wardens had need to keep good order : 
 My bow of yew to a hazel wand, 
 
 Thou It make them work upon the Border. 
 Meantime, be pleased to come with me, 
 
 For good Lord Dacre shalt thou see ; 
 
 I think our work is well begun, 
 
 When we have taken thy father s son.” — 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Although the child was led away, 
 
 In Branksome still he seemed to stay, 
 
 For so the Dwarf his part did play ; 
 
 And, in the shape of that young boy, 
 
 He wrought the castle much annoy. 
 
 The comrades of the young Buccleuch 
 He pinched, and beat, and overthrew ; 
 
 Nay, some of them he well nigh slew. 
 
 He tore Dame Maudlin’s silken tire, 
 
 And, as Sym Hall stood by the fire, 
 
 He lighted the match of his bandelier, 
 
 And woefully scorched the hackbutteer *. 
 
 It may be hardly thought or said, 
 
 The mischief that the urchin made, 
 
 Till many of the castle guessed, 
 
 That the young Baron was possessed ! 
 
 XXII. 
 
 W ell I ween, the charm he held 
 The noble Ladye had soon dispelled ; 
 
 * Hackbutteer , musketeer. 
 
42 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO III. 
 
 But she was deeply busied then 
 To tend the wounded Deloraine. 
 
 Much she wondered to find him lie 
 
 On the stone threshold stretched along ; 
 
 She thought some spirit of the sky 
 
 Had done the hold moss-trooper wrong ; 
 Because, despite her precept dread, 
 
 Perchance he in the Book had read ; 
 
 But the broken lance in his bosom stood, 
 
 And it was earthly steel and wood. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 She drew the splinter from the wound, 
 
 And with a charm she staunched the blood ; 
 
 She bade the gash be cleansed and bound : 
 
 No longer by his couch she stood ; 
 
 But she has ta'en the broken lance, 
 
 And washed it from the clotted gore, 
 
 And salved the splinter o'er and o'er. 
 
 William of Deloraine, in trance, 
 
 Whene'er she turned it round and round, 
 Twisted, as if she galled his wound. 
 
 Then to her maidens she did say, 
 
 That he should be whole man and sound, 
 Within the course of a night and day. 
 
 Full long she toiled ; for she did rue 
 Mishap to friend so stout and true. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 So passed the day — the evening fell, 
 
 'Twas near the time of curfew bell ; 
 
 The air was mild, the wind was calm, 
 
 The stream was smooth, the dew was balm ; 
 
 E'en the rude watchman, on the tower, 
 
 Enjoyed and, blessed the lovely hour. 
 
 Far more fair Margaret loved and blessed 
 The hour of silence and of rest. 
 
CANTO III.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 43 
 
 On the high turret sitting lone, 
 
 She waked at times the lute’s soft tone ; 
 Touched a wild note, and all between 
 Thought of the bower of hawthorns green. 
 Her golden hair streamed free from hand, 
 Her fair cheek rested on her hand, 
 
 Her blue eyes sought the west afar. 
 
 For lovers love the western star. 
 
 xxv. 
 
 Is yon the star, o’er Penchryst Pen, 
 
 That rises slowly to her ken, 
 
 And, spreading broad its wavering light, 
 Shakes its loose tresses on the night ? 
 
 Is yon red glare the western star ? — 
 
 O, ’tis the beacon-blaze of war ! 
 
 Scarce could she draw her tightened breath, 
 For well she knew the fire of death ! 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 The Warder viewed it blazing strong, 
 
 And blew his war-note loud and long, 
 
 Till, at the high and haughty sound, 
 
 Rock, wood, and river, rung around. 
 
 The blast alarmed the festal hall, 
 
 And startled forth the warriors all ; 
 
 Far downward, in the castle-yard, 
 
 Full many a torch and cresset glared ; 
 
 And helms and plumes, confusedly tossed, 
 Were in the blaze half-seen, half-lost; 
 
 And spears in wild disorder shook, 
 
 Like reeds beside a frozen brook. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 The Seneschal, whose silver hair 
 Was reddened by the torches’ glare, 
 
 Stood in the midst, with gesture proud, 
 
 And issued forth his mandates loud : — 
 
44 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO III. 
 
 u On Penchryst glows a bale # of fire, 
 
 And three are kindling on Priesthaughswire ; 
 Ride out, ride out, 
 
 The foe to scout ! 
 
 Mount, mount for Branksome +, every man ! 
 Thou, Todrig, warn the Johnstone clan, 
 That ever are true and stout. — 
 
 Ye need not send to Liddesdale ; 
 
 For, when they see the blazing bale, 
 
 Elliots and Armstrongs never fail. — 
 
 Ride, Alton, ride, for death and life ! 
 
 And warn the Warden of the strife. 
 
 Young Gilbert, let our beacon blaze, 
 
 Our kin, and clan, and friends, to raise.” — 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Fair Margaret, from the turret head, 
 Heard, far below, the coursers’ tread, 
 While loud the harness rung, 
 
 As to their seats, with clamour dread, 
 The ready horsemen sprung ; 
 
 And trampling hoofs, and iron coats, 
 And leaders’ voices, mingled notes, 
 And out ! and out ! 
 
 In hasty rout, 
 
 The horsemen galloped forth ; 
 Dispersing to the south to scout, 
 
 And east, and west, and north, 
 
 To view their coming enemies, 
 
 And warn their vassals, and allies. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The ready page, with hurried hand, 
 
 Awaked the need-fire’s J slumbering brand, 
 And ruddy blushed the heaven : 
 
 * Bale, beacon-faggot. 
 
 t Mount for Branksome was the gathering word of the Scotts. 
 X Need-fire, beacon. 
 
CANTO III.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 For a sheet of flame, from the turret high, 
 Waved like a blood-flag on the sky, 
 
 All flaring and uneven ; 
 
 And soon a score of fires, I ween, 
 
 From height, and hill, and cliff, were seen, 
 Each with warlike tidings fraught ; 
 
 Each from each the signal caught ; 
 
 Each after each they glanced to sight, 
 
 As stars arise upon the night. 
 
 They gleamed on many a dusky tarn *, 
 Haunted by the lonely earn t ; 
 
 On many a cairns j grey pyramid, 
 
 Where urns of mighty chiefs lie hid ; 
 
 Till high Dunedin the blazes saw, 
 
 From Soltra and Dumpender Law ; 
 
 And Lothian heard the Regent’s order, 
 
 That all should bowne || them for the Border. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 The livelong night in Branksome rang 
 The ceaseless sound of steel ; 
 
 The castle-bell, with backward clang, 
 
 Sent forth the larum peal ; 
 
 Was frequent heard the heavy jar, 
 
 Where massy stone and iron bar 
 Were piled on echoing keep and tower, 
 
 To whelm the foe with deadly shower; 
 
 W as frequent heard the changing guard, 
 
 And watch-word from the sleepless ward ; 
 While, wearied by the endless din, 
 Blood-hound and ban-dog yelled within. 
 
 xxxr. 
 
 The noble Dame, amid the broil, 
 Shared the grey Seneschal’s high toil, 
 And spoke of danger with a smile ; 
 
 * Tarn , a mountain lake. 
 $ Cairn , a pile of stones. 
 
 t Earn , the Scottish eagle. 
 11 Boicne, make ready. 
 
46 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO III. 
 
 Cheered the young knights, and council sage 
 Held with the chiefs of riper age. 
 
 No tidings of the foe were brought, 
 
 Nor of his numbers knew they aught, 
 
 Nor in what time the truce he sought. 
 
 Some said, that there were thousands ten ; 
 
 And others weened that it was nought 
 But Leven Clans, or Tynedale men, 
 
 Who came to gather in black mail ; 
 
 And Liddesdale, with small avail, 
 
 Might drive them lightly back agen. 
 
 So passed the anxious night away, 
 
 And welcome was the peep of day. 
 
 Ceased the high sound — the listening throng 
 Applaud the Master of the Song ; 
 
 And marvel much, in helpless age, 
 
 So hard should be his pilgrimage. 
 
 Had he no friend — no daughter dear, 
 
 His wandering toil to share and cheer ; 
 
 No son, to he his father’s stay, 
 
 And guide him on the rugged way ? — 
 a Aye, once he had — but he was dead !” — 
 Upon the harp he stooped his head, 
 
 And busied himself the strings withal, 
 
 To hide the tear, that fain would fall. 
 
 In solemn measure, soft and slow, 
 
 Arose a father’s notes of woe. 
 
 END OF CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
CANTO THE FOURTH. 
 
 Sweet Teviot ! on thy silver tide 
 
 The glaring bale-fires blaze no more ; 
 No longer steel-clad warriors ride 
 Along thy wild and willowed shore ; 
 Where’er thou wind’st, by dale or hill, 
 All, all is peaceful, all is still, 
 
 As if thy waves, since Time was born, 
 Since first they rolled upon the Tweed, 
 Had only heard the shepherd’s reed, 
 
 Nor started at the bugle-horn. 
 
 ii. 
 
 Unlike the tide of human time, 
 
 Which, though it change in ceaseless flow, 
 Retains each grief, retains each crime, 
 
 Its earliest course was doomed to know ; 
 And, darker as it downward bears, 
 
 Is stained with past and present tears. 
 
 Low as that tide has ebbed with me, 
 
 It still reflects, to Memory’s eye, 
 
 The hour, my brave, my only boy, 
 
 Fell by the side of great Dundee. 
 
48 
 
 THR LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [ C ANTO IV. 
 
 Why, when the volleying musket played 
 Against the bloody Highland blade, 
 
 Why was not I beside him laid ! — 
 
 Enough — he died the death of fame ; 
 
 Enough — he died with conquering Graeme. 
 
 hi. 
 
 Now over Border dale and fell 
 
 Full wide and far was terror spread ; 
 
 For pathless marsh, and mountain cell, 
 
 The peasant left his lowly shed. 
 
 The frightened flocks and herds were pent 
 Beneath the peel’s rude battlement ; 
 
 And maids and matrons dropped the tear. 
 While ready warriors seized the spear. 
 
 From Branksome’s towers, the watchman’s eye 
 Dun wreaths of distant smoke can spy, 
 
 Which, curling in the rising sun, 
 
 Shewed southern ravage was begun. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Now loud the heedful gate-ward cried — 
 u Prepare ye all for blows and blood ! 
 Watt Tinlinn, from the Liddel-side, 
 
 Comes wading through the flood. 
 
 Full oft the Tynedale snatchers knock 
 At his lone gate, and prove the lock ; 
 
 It was but last St. Barnabright 
 They sieged him a whole summer night, 
 But fled at morning ; well they knew, 
 
 In vain he never twanged the yew. 
 
 Right sharp has been the evening shower, 
 That drove him from his Liddel tower ; 
 And, by my faith,” the gate-ward said, 
 
 “ I think ’twill prove a Warden-Raid*.” 
 
 * An inroad commanded by the Warden in person. 
 
CANTO IV.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 49 
 
 V. 
 
 While thus he spoke, the bold yeoman 
 Entered the echoing barbican. 
 
 He led a small and shaggy nag, 
 
 That through a bog, from hag to hag *, 
 
 Could bound like any Billhope stag. 
 
 It bore his wife and children twain ; 
 
 A half-clothed serf was all their train : 
 
 His wife, stout, ruddy, and dark-browed, 
 
 Of silver brooch and bracelet proud, 
 
 Laughed to her friends among the crowd. 
 
 He was of stature passing tall, 
 
 But sparely formed, and lean withal ; 
 
 A battered morion on his brow ; 
 
 A leather jack, as fence enow, 
 
 On his broad shoulders loosely hung ; 
 
 A Border axe behind was slung ; 
 
 His spear, six Scottish ells in length, 
 Seemed newly dyed with gore ; 
 
 His shafts and bow, of wond’rous strength, 
 His hardy partner bore. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Thus to the Ladye did Tinlinn shew 
 The tidings of the English foe : — 
 
 “ Belted Will Howard is marching here, 
 And hot Lord Dacre, with many a spear, 
 And all the German hackbut-men +, 
 
 Who have long lain at Askerten : 
 
 They crossed the Liddel at curfew hour, 
 And burned my little lonely tower ; 
 
 The fiend receive their souls therefor ! 
 
 It had not been burned this year and more. 
 Barn-yard and dwelling, blazing bright, 
 
 * The broken ground in a bog. 
 
 E 
 
 t Musketeers. 
 
50 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, [canto IV. 
 
 Served to guide me on my flight ; 
 
 But I was chased the live-long night. 
 
 Black John of Akeshaw, and Fergus Graeme, 
 Fast upon my traces came, 
 
 Until I turned at Priesthaugh Scrogg, 
 
 And shot their horses in the bog, 
 
 Slew Fergus with my lance outright — 
 
 I had him long at high despite : 
 
 He drove my cows last Fastern’s night.” — 
 
 VII. 
 
 Now weary scouts from Liddesdale, 
 
 Fast hurrying in, confirmed the tale ; 
 
 As far as they could judge by ken, 
 
 Three hours would bring to Teviot’s strand 
 Three thousand armed Englishmen. — 
 Meanwhile, full many a warlike hand, 
 From Teviot, Aill, and Ettrick shade, 
 
 Came in, their Chief’s defence to aid. 
 
 There was saddling and mounting in haste, 
 There was pricking o’er moor and lea ; 
 
 He that was last at the trysting place 
 Was but lightly held of his gay ladye. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 From fair St. Mary’s silver wave, 
 
 From dreary Gamescleuch’s dusky height, 
 His ready lances Thirlestane brave 
 Arrayed beneath a banner bright. 
 
 The tressured fleur-de-luce he claims 
 To wreathe his shield, since royal James, 
 Encamped by Fala’s mossy wave, 
 
 The proud distinction grateful gave, 
 
 For faith ’mid feudal jars ; 
 
 What time, save Thirlestane alone, 
 
 Of Scotland’s stubborn barons none 
 Would march to southern wars ; 
 
CANTO IV.] THE lay of the last minstrel. 
 
 And hence, in fair remembrance worn, 
 Yon sheaf of spears his crest has borne ; 
 Hence his high motto shines revealed — 
 “ Ready, aye ready,” for the held. 
 
 IX. 
 
 An aged knight, to danger steeled, 
 
 With many a moss-trooper came on ; 
 And azure in a golden held, 
 
 The stars and crescent graced his shield, 
 Without the bend of Murdieston. 
 
 Wide lay his lands round Oak wood tower, 
 And wide round haunted Castle-0 wer ; 
 High over Borthwick’s mountain hood 
 His wood- embosomed mansion stood ; 
 
 In the dark glen, so deep below, 
 
 The herds of plundered England low ; 
 
 His bold retainers* daily food, 
 
 And bought with danger, blows, and blood. 
 Marauding chief ! his sole delight 
 The moonlight raid, the morning hght ; 
 Not even the Flower of Yarrow’s charms, 
 In youth, might tame his rage for arms ; 
 And still, in age, he spurned at rest, 
 
 And still his brows the helmet pressed, 
 Albeit the blanched locks below 
 Were white as Dinlay’s spotless snow : 
 Five stately warriors drew the sword 
 Before their father’s band ; 
 
 A braver knight than Hardens lord 
 Ne’er belted on a brand. 
 
 x. 
 
 Scotts of Eskdale, a stalwart band, 
 
 Came trooping down the Todshawhill ; 
 By the sword they won their land, 
 
 And by the sword they hold it still. 
 
 e 2 
 
52 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 [canto IV. 
 
 Hearken, Ladye, to the tale, 
 
 How thy sires won fair Eskdale. — 
 
 Earl Morton was lord of that valley fair, 
 
 The Beattisons were his vassals there. 
 
 The Earl was gentle, and mild of mood, 
 
 The vassals were warlike, and fierce, and rude ; 
 High of heart, and haughty of word, 
 
 Little they recked of a tame liege lord. 
 
 The Earl to fair Eskdale came, 
 
 Homage and seignory to claim : 
 
 Of Gilbert the Gailliard, a heriot * he sought, 
 Saying, 44 Give thy best steed, as a vassal ought.” 
 — 44 Dear to me is my bonny white steed, 
 
 Oft has he helped me at pinch of need ; 
 
 Lord and Earl though thou be, I trow, 
 
 I can rein Bucksfoot better than thou.” — 
 
 Word on word gave fuel to fire, 
 
 Till so highly blazed the Beattisons* ire, 
 
 But that the Earl to flight had ta’en, 
 
 The vassals there their lord had slain. 
 
 Sore he plied both whip and spur, 
 
 As he urged his steed through Eskdale muir ; 
 And it fell down, a weary weight, 
 
 J ust on the threshold of Branksome gate. 
 
 XI. 
 
 The Earl was a wrathful man to see, 
 
 Full fain avenged would he he. 
 
 In haste to Branksome’s lord'he spoke, 
 
 Saying — 44 Take these traitors to thy yoke ; 
 For a cast of hawks, and a purse of gold, 
 
 All Eskdale 111 sell thee, to have and hold : 
 Beshrew thy heart, of the Beattisons* clan 
 If thou leavest on Eske a landed man ; 
 
 * The feudal superior, in certain cases, was entitled to the 
 best horse of the vassal, in name of Heriot, or Herezeld. 
 
53 
 
 CANTO IV.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 But spare W oodkerrick’s lands alone, 
 
 For he lent me his horse to escape upon.” — 
 
 A glad man then was Branksome bold, 
 
 Down he flung him the purse of gold ; 
 
 To Eskdale soon he spurred amain, 
 
 And with him five hundred riders has ta’en. 
 
 He left his merry men in the mist of the hill, 
 
 And bade them hold them close and still ; 
 
 And alone he wended to the plain, 
 
 To meet with the Galliard and all his train. 
 
 To Gilbert the Galliard thus he said : — 
 u Know thou me for thy liege lord and head ; 
 
 Deal not with me as with Morton tame, 
 
 For Scotts play best at the roughest game. 
 
 Give me in peace my heriot due, 
 
 Thy bonny white steed, or thou shalt rue. 
 
 If my horn I three times wind, 
 
 Eskdale shall long have the sound in mind.”— 
 
 XII. 
 
 Loudly the Beattison laughed in scorn : — 
 
 “ Little care we for thy winded horn. 
 
 Ne’er shall it be the Galliard’s lot, 
 
 To yield his steed to a haughty Scott. 
 
 Wend thou to Branksome back on foot, 
 
 With rusty spur and miry boot.” — 
 
 He blew his bugle so loud and hoarse, 
 
 That the dun deer started at far Craikcross ; 
 
 He blew again so loud and clear, 
 
 Through the grey mountain mist there did lances appear ; 
 And the third blast rang with such a din, 
 
 That the echoes answered from Pentoun-linn ; 
 
 And all his riders came lightly in. 
 
 Then had you seen a gallant shock, 
 
 When saddles were emptied, and lances broke ! 
 
 For each scornful word the Galliard had said, 
 
 A Beattison on the field was laid. 
 
54 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, [canto IT. 
 
 His own good sword the chieftain drew, 
 
 And he bore the Galliard through and through ; 
 
 Where the Beattison s blood mixed with the rill, 
 
 The Galliard’s Haugh men call it still. 
 
 The Scotts have scattered the Beattison clan, 
 
 In Eskdale they left but one landed man. 
 
 The valley of Eske, from the mouth to the source, 
 
 Was lost and won for that bonny white horse. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Whitslade the Hawk, and Headshaw came, 
 
 And warriors more than 1 may name ; 
 
 From Yarrow-cleugh to Hindhaugh-swair, 
 
 From Woodhouselie to Chester-glen, 
 
 Trooped man and horse, and bow and spear ; 
 
 Their gathering word was “Bellenden !” 
 
 And better hearts o’er Border sod 
 To siege or rescue never rode. 
 
 The Ladye marked the aids come in, 
 
 And high her heart of pride arose : 
 
 She bade her youthful son attend, 
 
 That he might know his fathers friend, 
 
 And learn to face his foes. 
 u The boy is ripe to look on war ; 
 
 I saw him draw a cross-bow stiff, 
 
 And his true arrow struck afar 
 The raven’s nest upon the cliff ; 
 
 The Red Cross, on a southern breast, 
 
 Is broader than the raven’s nest : 
 
 Thou, Whitslade, shalt teach him his weapon to wield, 
 And o’er him hold his fathers shield.” — 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Well may you think, the wily Page 
 Cared not to face the Ladye sage. 
 
 He counterfeited childish fear, 
 
 And shrieked, and shed full many a tear, 
 
CANTO IV.] THE LAY OP THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 And moaned and plained in manner wild. 
 
 The attendants to the Ladye told, 
 Some fairy, sure, had changed the child, 
 That wont to be so free and bold. 
 Then wrathful was the noble dame ; 
 
 She blushed blood-red for very shame : — 
 
 “ Hence ! ere the clan his faintness view ; 
 Hence with the w r eakling to Buccleuch ! — 
 Watt Tinlinn, thou shalt be his guide 
 To Ranglebum's lonely side. — 
 
 Sure some fell fiend has cursed our line, 
 That coward should e'er be son of mine !” — 
 
 XV. 
 
 A heavy task Watt Tinlinn had. 
 
 To guide the counterfeited lad. 
 
 Soon as his palfrey felt the weight 
 Of that ill-omened elvish freight, 
 
 He bolted, sprung, and reared amain, 
 
 Nor heeded bit, nor curb, nor rein. 
 
 It cost Watt Tinlinn mickle toil 
 To drive him but a Scottish mile; 
 
 But, as a shallow brook they crossed, 
 
 The elf, amid the running stream, 
 
 His figure changed, like form in dream, 
 
 And fled, and shouted, “ Lost ! lost ! lost ! ” 
 Full fast the urchin ran and laughed, 
 
 But faster still a cloth yard-shaft 
 Whistled from startled Tinlinn's yew, 
 
 And pierced his shoulder through and through. 
 Although the imp might not be slain, 
 
 And though the wound soon healed again, 
 
 Yet, as he ran, he yelled for pain; 
 
 And Watt of Tinlinn, much aghast, 
 
 Rode back to Branksome fiery fast. 
 
 V 
 
56 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, [canto IV. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Soon on the hill’s steep verge he stood, 
 
 That looks o’er Branksome’s towers and wood ; 
 
 And martial murmurs, from below, 
 
 Proclaimed the approaching southern foe. 
 
 Through the dark wood, in mingled tone, 
 
 Were Border-pipes and bugles blown ; 
 
 The coursers’ neighing he could ken, 
 
 And measured tread of marching men ; 
 
 While broke at times the solemn hum, 
 
 The Almayn s sullen kettle-drum ; 
 
 And banners tall, of crimson sheen, 
 
 Above the copse appear ; 
 
 And, glistening through the hawthorns green, 
 
 Shine helm, and shield, and spear. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Light forayers, first, to view the ground, 
 
 Spurred their fleet coursers loosely round ; 
 
 Behind, in close array, and fast, 
 
 The Kendal archers, all in green, 
 
 Obedient to the bugle blast, 
 
 Advancing from the wood are seen. 
 
 To back and guard the archer band, 
 
 Lord Dacre’s bill-men were at hand : 
 
 A hardy race, on Irthing bred, 
 
 With kirtles white, and crosses red, 
 
 Arrayed beneath the banner tall, 
 
 That streamed o’er Acre’s conquered wall ; 
 
 And minstrels, as they marched in order, 
 
 Played, “Noble Lord Dacre, he dwells on the Border.” 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Behind the English bill and bow, 
 
 The mercenaries, firm and slow, 
 
 Moved on to fight, in dark array, 
 
CANTO IV.] THE LAY OP THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 By Conrad led of Wolfenstein, 
 
 Who brought the band from distant Rhine, 
 And sold their blood for foreign pay. 
 
 The camp their home, their law the sword, 
 They knew no country, owned no lord : 
 They were not armed like England’s sons, 
 But bore the levin-darting guns ; 
 
 Buff coats, all frounced and ’broidered o’er, 
 And morsing-horns* and scarfs they wore ; 
 Each better knee was bared, to aid 
 The warriors in the escalade ; 
 
 All, as they marched, in rugged tongue, 
 Songs of Teutonic feuds they sung. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 But louder still the clamour grew, 
 
 And louder still the minstrels blew, 
 
 When, from beneath the greenwood tree, 
 Rode forth Lord Howard’s chivalry ; 
 
 His men-at-arms, with glaive and spear, 
 Brought up the battle’s glittering rear. 
 There many a youthful knight, fall keen 
 To gain his spurs, in arms was seen ; 
 
 With favour in his crest, or glove, 
 
 Memorial of his ladye-love. 
 
 So rode they forth in fair array, 
 
 Till full their lengthened lines display ; 
 Then called a halt, and made a stand, 
 
 And cried, u St. George, for merry England 
 
 XX. 
 
 Now every English eye, intent, 
 
 On Branksome’s armed towers was bent ; 
 
 So near they were, that they might know 
 The straining harsh of each cross-bow ; 
 
 On battlement and bartizan 
 Gleamed axe, and spear, and partizan ; 
 
 * Powder-flasks. 
 
.58 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, [canto IV. 
 
 Falcon and eulver*, on each tower, 
 
 Stood prompt their deadly hail to shower ; 
 And flashing armour frequent broke 
 From eddying whirls of sable smoke, 
 Where, upon tower and turret head, 
 
 The seething pitch and molten lead 
 Reeked, like a witch's cauldron red. 
 
 While yet they gaze, the bridges fall, 
 
 The wicket opes, and from the wall 
 Rides forth the hoary Seneschal. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Armed he rode, all save the head, 
 
 His white beard o’er his breast-plate spread ; 
 Unbroke by age, erect his seat, 
 
 He ruled his eager courser’s gait ; 
 
 Forced him, with chastened fire, to prance, 
 And, high curvetting, slow advance : 
 
 In sign of truce, his better hand 
 Displayed a peeled willow wand ; 
 
 His squire, attending in the rear, 
 
 Bore high a gauntlet on a spear. 
 
 When they espied him riding out, 
 
 Lord Howard and Lord Dacre stout 
 Sped to the front of their array, 
 
 To hear what this old knight should say. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 “ Ye English warden lords, of you 
 Demands the Ladye of Buccleuch, 
 Why, ’gainst the truce of Border- tide, 
 In hostile guise ye dare to ride, 
 
 With Kendal bow, and Gilsland brand, 
 And all yon mercenary band, 
 
 Upon the bounds of fair Scotland ? 
 
 * Ancient pieces of artillery. 
 
CANTO IV.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 59 
 
 My Layde redes you swith return ; 
 
 And, if but one poor straw you burn, 
 
 Or do our towers so much molest 
 As scare one swallow from her nest, 
 
 St. Mary ! but we’ll light a brand, 
 
 Shall warm your hearths in Cumberland.” — 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 A wrathful man was Dacre’s lord , 
 
 But calmer Howard took the word : — 
 
 “ May’t please thy Dame, Sir Seneschal, 
 To seek the castle’s outward wall, 
 
 Our pursuivant-at-arms shall show, 
 
 Both why we came, and when we go,” — 
 The message sped, the noble Dame 
 To the wall’s outward circle came ; 
 
 Each chief around leaned on his spear, 
 To see the pursuivant appear. 
 
 All in Lord Howard’s livery dressed, 
 
 The lion argent decked his breast ; 
 
 He led a boy of blooming hue — 
 
 O sight to meet a mother’s view ! 
 
 It was the heir of great Buccleuch. 
 Obeisance meet the herald made, 
 
 And thus his master’s will he said : — 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 “ It irks, high Dame, my noble Lords, 
 ’Gainst ladye fair to draw their swords ; 
 But yet they may not tamely see, 
 
 All through the western wardenry, 
 
 Your law- contemning kinsmen ride, 
 
 And bum and spoil the Border-side ; 
 
 And ill beseems your rank and birth 
 To make your towers a flemens-firth*. 
 
 * An asylum for outlaws. 
 
60 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, [canto IV. 
 
 We claim from thee William of Deloraine, 
 That he may suffer march -treason pain* : 
 
 It was but last St. Cuthbert’s even 
 He pricked to Stapleton on Leven, 
 
 Harried + the lands of Richard Musgrave, 
 And slew his brother by dint of glaive. 
 Then, since a lone and widowed Dame 
 These restless riders may not tame, 
 
 Either receive within thy towers 
 Two hundred of my master’s pow T ers, 
 
 Or straight they sound their warrison j, 
 
 And storm and spoil thy garrison ; 
 
 And this fair boy, to London led, 
 
 Shall good King Edward’s page be bred.” — 
 
 xxv. 
 
 He ceased — and loud the boy did cry, 
 
 And stretched his little arms on high ; 
 
 Implored for aid each well-known face, 
 
 And strove to seek the Dame’s embrace. 
 
 A moment changed that Ladye’s cheer, 
 
 Gushed to her eye the unbidden tear ; 
 
 She gazed upon the leaders round, 
 
 And dark and sad each warrior frowned ; 
 
 Then deep within her sobbing breast 
 She locked the struggling sigh to rest ; 
 
 Unaltered and collected stood, 
 
 And thus replied, in dauntless mood : — 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 u Say to your Lords of high emprize, 
 
 Who war on women and on boys, 
 
 That either William of Deloraine 
 
 Will cleanse him, by oath, of march- treason stain, 
 
 * Border treason. 
 
 t Plundered. 
 
 t Note of assault. 
 
61 
 
 CANTO IV.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 Or else he will the combat take 
 * Gainst Musgrave, for his honour’s sake. 
 
 No knight in Cumberland so good, 
 
 But William may count with him kin and blood. 
 Knighthood he took of Douglas’ sword, 
 
 When English blood swelled Ancram ford ; 
 
 And but that Lord Dacre’s steed was wight, 
 
 And bare him ably in the flight, 
 
 Himself had seen him dubbed a knight. 
 
 For the young heir of Branksome’s line, 
 
 God be his aid, and God be mine ! 
 
 Through me no friend shall meet his doom ; 
 
 Here, while I live, no foe finds room, 
 
 Then, if thy lords their purpose urge, 
 
 Take our defiance loud and high ; 
 
 Our slogan is their lyke-wake * dirge, 
 
 Our moat, the grave w T here they shall lie.” — 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Proud she looked round, applause to claim — 
 Then lightened Thirlestane’s eye of flame, 
 
 His bugle Watt of Harden blew ; 
 
 Pensils and pennons wide were flung, 
 
 To heaven the Border slogan rung, 
 
 “ St. Mary for the young Buccleuch ! ” 
 
 The English war-cry answered wide, 
 
 And forward bent each southern spear ; 
 
 Each Kendal archer made a stride, 
 
 And drew the bow-string to his ear ; 
 
 Each minstrel’s war-note loud was blown ; — 
 
 But, ere a grey-goose shaft had flown, 
 
 A horseman galloped from the rear. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 u Ah! noble lords !” he, breathless, said, 
 
 “ What treason has your march betrayed ? 
 
 * Lyke-wake, the watching a corpse previous to interment. 
 
62 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, [canto IV. 
 
 What make yon here, from aid so far, 
 
 Before you walls, around you war ? 
 
 Your foemen triumph in the thought, 
 
 That in the toils the lion's caught. 
 
 Already on dark Ruberslaw 
 
 The Douglas holds his weapon-schaw * ; 
 
 The lances, waving in his train, 
 
 Clothe the dun heath like autumn grain ; 
 
 And on the Liddel's northern strand, 
 
 To bar retreat to Cumberland, 
 
 Lord Maxwell ranks his merrymen good, 
 
 Beneath the eagle and the rood ; 
 
 And Jedwood, Eske, and Teviotdale, 
 
 Have to proud Angus come ; 
 
 And all the Merse and Lauderdale 
 Have risen with haughty Home. 
 
 An exile from Northumberland, 
 
 In Liddesdale I've wandered long ; 
 
 But still my heart was with merry England, 
 
 And cannot brook my country's wrong ; 
 
 And hard I've spurred all night, to shew 
 The mustering of the coming foe/' — 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 “ And let them come !” fierce Dacre cried ; 
 
 “ For soon yon crest, my father's pride, 
 
 That swept the shores of Judah's sea, 
 
 And waved in gales of Galilee, 
 
 From Branksome’s highest towers displayed, 
 Shall mock the rescue's lingering aid ! — 
 Level each harquebuss on row ; 
 
 Draw, merry archers, draw the bow ; 
 
 Up, bill-men, to the walls, and cry, 
 
 Dacre for England, win or die ! 5 ' — 
 
 * Weapon-schaw, tlie military array of a county. 
 
CANTO IV.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 63 
 
 XXX. 
 
 44 Yet hear,” quoth Howard, 44 calmly hear, 
 Nor deem my words the words of fear ; 
 
 For who, in field or foray slack, 
 
 Saw the blanche lion e'er fall back ? 
 
 But thus to risk our Border flower 
 In strife against a kingdom’s power, 
 
 Ten thousand Scots 'gainst thousands three, 
 Certes, were desperate policy. 
 
 Nay, take the terms the Ladye made, 
 
 Ere conscious of the advancing aid : 
 
 Let Musgrave meet fierce Deloraine 
 In single fight ; and if he gain, 
 
 He gains for us ; but if lie’s crossed, 
 
 'Tis but a single warrior lost : 
 
 The rest, retreating as they came, 
 
 Avoid defeat, and death, and shame.' ? — 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Ill could the haughty Dacre brook 
 His brother- warden's sage rebuke : 
 
 And yet his forward step he staid, 
 
 And slow and sullenly obeyed. 
 
 And ne'er again the Border side 
 Hid these two lords in friendship ride ; 
 
 And this slight discontent, men say, 
 
 Cost blood upon another day. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 The pursuivant-at-arms again 
 Before the castle took his stand ; 
 
 His trumpet called, with parleying strain, 
 The leaders of the Scottish band ; 
 
 And he defied, in Musgrave's right, 
 
 Stout Deloraine to single fight ; 
 
 A gauntlet at their feet he laid, 
 
 And thus the terms of fight he said : — 
 
64 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, [canto IV. 
 
 u If in the lists good Musgrave’s sword 
 Vanquish the Knight of Deloraine, 
 
 Your youthful chieftain, Branksome’s lord, 
 Shall hostage for his clan remain : 
 
 If Deloraine foil good Musgrave, 
 
 The boy his liberty shall have. • 
 
 Howe’er it falls, the English hand, 
 Unharming Scots, by Scots unharmed, 
 
 In peaceful march, like men unarmed, 
 
 Shall straight retreat to Cumberland.” — 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Unconscious of the near relief, 
 
 The proffer pleased each Scottish chief, 
 Though much the Ladye sage gainsayed ; 
 For though their hearts were brave and true, 
 From Jedwood’s recent sack they knew, 
 
 How tardy was the regent’s aid : 
 
 And you may guess the noble Dame 
 Durst not the secret prescience own, 
 Sprung from the art she might not name, 
 
 By which the coming help was known. 
 Closed was the compact, and agreed 
 That lists should be inclosed with speed, 
 Beneath the castle, on a lawn : 
 
 They fixed the morrow for the strife, 
 
 On foot, with Scottish axe and knife, 
 
 At the fourth hour from peep of dawn ; 
 When Deloraine, from sickness freed, 
 
 Or else a champion in his stead, 
 
 Should for himself and chieftain stand, 
 Against stout Musgrave, hand to hand. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 I know right well, that, in their lay, 
 
 F ull many minstrels sing and say, 
 
 Such combat should be made on horse, 
 
IV.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 On foaming steed, in full career, 
 
 With brand to aid, when as the spear 
 Should shiver in the course : 
 
 But he, the jovial Harper, taught 
 Me, yet a youth, how it was fought, 
 
 In guise which now I say ; 
 
 He knew each ordinance and clause 
 Of black Lord Archibald’s battle laws, 
 
 In the old Douglas’ day. 
 
 He brooked not, he, that scoffing tongue 
 Should tax his minstrelsy with wrong, 
 
 Or call his song untrue : 
 
 For this, when they the goblet plied, 
 
 And such rude taunt had chafed his pride, 
 The bard of Reull he slew. 
 
 On Teviot’s side, in fight they stood, 
 
 And tuneful hands were stained with blood ; 
 Where still the thorn’s white branches wave, 
 Memorial o’er his rival’s grave. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Why should I tell the rigid doom, 
 
 That dragged iny master to his tomb ; 
 
 How Ousenam’s maidens tore their hair, 
 Wept till their eyes were dead and dim, 
 
 And wrung their hands for love of him, 
 
 Who died at Jedwood Air? 
 
 He died ! — his scholars, one by one, 
 
 To the cold silent grave are gone ; 
 
 And I, alas ! survive alone, 
 
 To muse o’er rivalries of yore, 
 
 And grieve that I shall hear no more 
 The strains, with envy heard before ; 
 
 For, with my minstrel brethren fled, 
 
 My jealousy of song is dead. 
 
66 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO IV. 
 
 He paused : the listening dames again 
 Applaud the hoary Minstrel’s strain. 
 
 With many a word of kindly cheer, — 
 
 In pity half, and half sincere, — 
 
 Marvelled the Duchess how so well 
 His legendary song could tell — 
 
 Of ancient deeds, so long forgot ; 
 
 Of feuds, whose memory was not ; 
 
 Of forests, now laid waste and bare ; 
 
 Of towers, which harbour now the hare ; 
 
 Of manners, long since changed and gone ; 
 
 Of chiefs, who under their grey stone 
 So long had slept, that fickle Fame 
 Had blotted from her rolls their name, 
 
 And twined round some new minion’s head 
 The fading wreath for which they bled ; 
 
 In sooth, ’twas strange, this old mans verse 
 Could call them from their marble hearse. 
 
 The Harper smiled, well-pleased ; for ne’er 
 Was flattery lost on poet’s ear : 
 
 A simple race ! they waste their toil 
 For the vain tribute of a smile ; 
 
 E’en when in age their flame expires, 
 
 Her dulcet breath can fan its fires : 
 
 Their drooping fancy wakes at praise, 
 
 And strives to trim the short-lived blaze. 
 
 Smiled then, well-pleased, the Aged Man, 
 And thus his tale continued ran. 
 
 END OF CANTO THE FOURTH. 
 
CANTO THE FIFTH 
 
 Call it not vain : — they do not err, 
 
 Who say, that, when the Poet dies, 
 Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, 
 And celebrates his obsequies ; 
 
 Who say, tall cliff, and cavern lone, 
 
 For the departed bard make moan ; 
 
 That mountains weep in crystal rill ; 
 
 That flowers in tears of balm distil ; 
 Through his loved groves that breezes sigh, 
 And oaks, in deeper groan, reply ; 
 
 And rivers teach their rushing wave 
 To murmur dirges round his grave. 
 
 ii. 
 
 Not that, in sooth, o’er mortal um 
 Those things inanimate can mourn ; 
 
 But that the stream, the wood, the gale, 
 Is vocal with the plaintive wail 
 Of those, who, else forgotten long, 
 
 Lived in the poet’s faithful song, 
 
 And, with the poet’s parting breath, 
 Whose memory feels a second death. 
 
 The maid’s pale shade, who wails her lot, 
 That love, true love, should he forgot, 
 f 2 
 
68 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [canto V. 
 
 From rose and hawthorn shakes the tear 
 Upon the gentle minstrel’s bier : 
 
 The phantom knight, his glory fled, 
 
 Mourns o’er the field he heaped with dead ; 
 Mounts the wild blast that sweeps amain, 
 
 And shrieks along the battle-plain : 
 
 The chief, whose antique crownlet long 
 Still sparkled in the feudal song, 
 
 Now, from the mountain’s misty throne, 
 
 Sees, in the thanedom once his own, 
 
 His ashes undistinguished lie, 
 
 His place, his power, his memory die : 
 
 His groans the lonely caverns fill, 
 
 His tears of rage impel the rill ; 
 
 All mourn the minstrel’s harp unstrung, 
 
 Their name unknown, their praise unsung. 
 
 hi. 
 
 Scarcely the hot assault w T as staid, 
 
 The terms of truce were scarcely made, 
 
 When they could spy, from Branksome’s towers, 
 The advancing march of martial powers ; 
 
 Thick clouds of dust afar appeared, 
 
 And trampling steeds were faintly heard ; 
 
 Bright spears, above the columns dun, 
 
 Glanced momentary to the sun ; 
 
 And feudal banners fair displayed 
 
 The bands that moved to Branksome’s aid. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Vails not to tell each hardy clan, 
 
 From the fair Middle Marches came ; 
 The Bloody Heart blazed in the van, 
 Announcing Douglas, dreaded name ! 
 Vails not to tell what steeds did spurn, 
 Where the Seven Spears of Wedderburne 
 Their men in battle-order set ; 
 
CANTO V.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 69 
 
 And Swinton laid the lance in rest, 
 
 That tamed, of yore, the sparkling crest 
 Of Clarence's Plantagenet. 
 
 Nor lists I say what hundreds more, 
 
 From the rich Merse and Lammermore, 
 
 And Tweed’s fair borders, to the war, 
 
 Beneath the crest of old Dunbar, 
 
 And Hepburns mingled banners come, 
 
 Down the steep mountain glittering far, 
 
 And shouting still, “ A Home ! a Home ! ' 
 
 y. 
 
 Now squire and knight, from Branksome sent, 
 
 On many a courteous message went ; 
 
 To every chief and lord they paid 
 Meet thanks for prompt and powerful aid ; 
 
 And told them, — how a truce was made, 
 
 And how a day of fight was ta'en 
 'Twixt Musgrave and stout Deloraine ; 
 
 And how the Ladye prayed them dear, 
 
 That all would stay, the fight to see, 
 
 And deign, in love and courtesy, 
 
 To taste of Branksome cheer. 
 
 Nor, while they bade to feast each Scot, 
 
 Were England's noble Lords forgot ; 
 
 Himself, the hoary Seneschal, 
 
 Rode forth, in seemly terms to call 
 Those gallant foes to Branksome Hall. 
 
 Accepted Howard, than whom knight 
 Was never dubbed more bold in fight ; 
 
 Nor, when from war and armour free, 
 
 More famed for stately courtesy : 
 
 But angry Dacre rather chose 
 In his pavilion to repose. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Now, noble Dame, perchance you ask, 
 
 How these two hostile armies met ? 
 
70 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO V. 
 
 Deeming it were no easy task 
 
 T o keep the truce which here was set ; 
 
 Where martial spirits, all on tire, 
 
 Breathed only blood and mortal ire. — 
 
 By mutual inroads, mutual blows, 
 
 By habit, and by nation, foes, 
 
 They met on Teviot’s strand : 
 
 They met, and sate them mingled down, 
 Without a threat, without a frown, 
 
 As brothers meet in foreign land : 
 
 The hands the spear that lately grasped, 
 
 Still in the mailed gauntlet clasped, 
 
 Were interchanged in greeting dear ; 
 
 Visors were raised, and faces shown, 
 
 And many a friend, to friend made known, 
 Partook of social cheer. 
 
 Some drove the jolly bowl about, 
 
 With dice and draughts some chased the day ; 
 And some, with many a merry shout, 
 
 In riot, revelry, and rout, 
 
 Pursued the foot-ball play. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Yet, be it known, had bugles blown, 
 
 Or sign of war been seen, 
 
 Those bands, so fair together ranged, 
 
 Those hands, so frankly interchanged, 
 
 Had dyed with gore the green : 
 
 The merry shout by Teviot-side 
 Had sunk in war-cries wild and wide, 
 
 And in the groan of death ; 
 
 And whingers*, now in friendship bare, 
 
 The social meal to part and share, 
 
 Had found a bloody sheath. 
 
 ’ Twixt truce and war, such sudden change 
 Was not unfrequent, nor held strange, 
 
 In the old Border-day ; 
 
 * A sort of knife, or poniard. 
 
CANTO V.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 71 
 
 But yet on Branksome’s towers and town, 
 
 In peaceful merriment, sunk down 
 The sun’s declining ray. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The blithesome signs of wassel gay 
 Decayed not with the dying day ; 
 
 Soon through the latticed windows tall 
 Of lofty Branksome’s lordly hall, 
 
 Divided square by shafts of stone, 
 
 Huge flakes of ruddy lustre shone ; 
 
 Nor less the gilded rafters rang 
 With merry harp and beaker’s dang : 
 
 And frequent, on the darkening plain, 
 
 Loud halloo, whoop, or whistle ran, 
 
 As bands, their stragglers to regain, 
 
 Give the shrill watch-word of their clan ; 
 
 And revellers, o’er their bowls, proclaim 
 Douglas’ or Dacre’s conquering name. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Less frequent heard, and fainter still, 
 
 At length the various clamours died ; 
 
 And you might hear, from Branksome hill, 
 No sound but Teviot’s rushing tide ; 
 
 Save, when the changing sentinel 
 The challenge of his watch could tell ; 
 
 And save, where, through the dark profound, 
 The clanging axe and hammer’s sound 
 Rung from the nether lawn ; 
 
 For many a busy hand toiled there, 
 
 Strong pales to shape, and beams to square, 
 The lists’ dread barriers to prepare, 
 
 Against the morrow’s dawn. 
 
72 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [caNTO V. 
 
 X. 
 
 Margaret from hall did soon retreat, 
 Despite the Dame’s reproving eye ; 
 Nor marked she, as she left her seat, 
 Full many a stifled sigh : 
 
 For many a noble warrior strove 
 To win the Flower of Teviot’s love, 
 
 And many a bold ally. — 
 
 With throbbing head and anxious heart, 
 All in her lonely bower apart, 
 
 In broken sleep she lay : 
 
 By times, from silken couch she rose ; 
 While yet the bannered hosts repose, 
 She viewed the dawning day : 
 
 Of all the hundreds sunk to rest, 
 
 First woke the loveliest and the best. 
 
 XI. 
 
 She gazed upon the inner court, 
 
 Which in the tower s tall shadow lay ; 
 Where courser’s clang, and stamp, and snort, 
 Had rung the live-long yesterday ; 
 
 Now still as death ; till, stalking slow, — 
 
 The jingling spurs announced his tread, — 
 
 A stately warrior passed below ; 
 
 But when he raised his plumed head — 
 Blessed Mary ! can it be ? — 
 
 Secure, as if in Ousenam bowers, 
 
 He walks through Branksome’s hostile towers, 
 With fearless step and free. 
 
 She dared not sign, she dared not speak — 
 
 Oh ! if one page’s slumbers break, 
 
 His blood the price must pay ! 
 
 Not all the pearls Queen Mary wears, 
 
 Not Margaret’s yet more precious tears, 
 
 Shall buy his life a day. 
 
CANTO v. ] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 73 
 
 
 XII. 
 
 Yet was his hazard small ; for well 
 You may bethink you of the spell 
 Of that sly urchin Page : 
 
 This to his lord he did impart, 
 
 And made him seem, by glamour art, 
 
 A knight from Hermitage. 
 
 Unchallenged, thus, the warders post, 
 
 The court, unchallenged, thus he crossed, 
 For all the vassalage : 
 
 But, O ! what magic’s quaint disguise 
 Could blind fair Margaret’s azure eyes ! 
 
 She started from her seat ; 
 
 While with surprise and fear she strove, 
 And both could scarcely master love — 
 Lord Henry’s at her feet. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Oft have I mused, what purpose bad 
 That foul malicious urchin had 
 To bring this meeting round ; 
 
 For happy love’s a heavenly sight, 
 
 And by a vile malignant sprite 
 In such no joy is found : 
 
 And oft I’ve deemed, perchance he thought 
 Their erring passion might have wrought 
 Sorrow, and sin, and shame ; 
 
 And death to Cranstoun’s gallant Knight, 
 And to the gentle Ladye bright 
 Disgrace, and loss of fame. 
 
 But earthly spirit could not tell 
 The heart of them that loved so well. 
 
 True love’s the gift which God has given 
 To man alone beneath the heaven. 
 
 It is not fantasy’s hot fire, 
 
 Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly ; 
 
4 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [canto V. 
 
 It liveth not in fierce desire, 
 
 With dead desire it doth not die ; 
 
 It is the secret sympathy, 
 
 The silver link, the silken tie, 
 
 Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, 
 
 In body and in soul can bind. — 
 
 Now leave we Margaret and her Knight, 
 
 To tell you of the approaching fight. 
 
 XIY. 
 
 Their warning blast the bugles blew, 
 
 The pipe’s shrill port * aroused each clan ; 
 
 In haste, the deadly strife to view, 
 
 The trooping warriors eager ran : 
 
 Thick round the lists their lances stood, 
 
 Like blasted pines in Ettrick wood. 
 
 To Branksome many a look they threw, 
 
 The combatants’ approach to view, 
 
 And bandied many a word of boast, 
 
 About the knight each favoured most. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Meantime full anxious was the Dame, 
 
 For now arose disputed claim 
 Of who should fight for Deloraine, 
 
 ’Twixt Harden and ’twixt Thirlestane : 
 They ’gan to reckon kin and rent, 
 
 And frowning brow on brow was bent ; 
 
 But yet not long the strife — for, lo ! 
 Himself, the Knight of Deloraine, 
 
 Strong, as it seemed, and free from pain, 
 In armour sheathed from top to toe, 
 Appeared, and craved the combat due. 
 
 The Dame her charm successful knewf, 
 And the fierce chiefs their claims withdrew. 
 
 * A martial piece of music, adapted to the bagpipes, 
 f See Canto the Third, Stanza xxiii. 
 
CANTO V.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 75 
 
 XVI. 
 
 When for the lists they sought the plain, 
 The stately Ladye's silken rein 
 Did noble Howard hold ; 
 
 Unarmed by her side he walked, 
 
 And much, in courteous phrase, they talked 
 Of feats of arms of old. 
 
 Costly his garb — his Flemish niff 
 Fell o'er his doublet, shaped of buff, 
 
 With satin slashed and lined ; 
 
 Tawny his hoot, and gold his spur, 
 
 His cloak was all of Poland fur, 
 
 His hose with silver twined ; 
 
 His Bilboa blade, by Marchmen felt. 
 
 Hung in a broad and studded belt ; 
 
 Hence, in rude phrase, the Borderers still 
 Call noble Howard Belted Will. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Behind Lord Howard and the Dame, 
 
 Fair Margaret on her palfrey came, 
 
 Whose foot-cloth swept the ground ; 
 White was her wimple and her veil, 
 
 And her loose locks a chaplet pale 
 Of whitest roses bound ; 
 
 The lordly Angus, by her side, 
 
 In courtesy to cheer her tried ; 
 
 Without his aid, her hand in vain 
 Had strove to guide her broidered rein. 
 
 He deemed, she shuddered at the sight 
 Of warriors met for mortal fight ; 
 
 But cause of terror, all unguessed, 
 
 Was fluttering in her gentle breast, 
 
 When, in their chairs of crimson placed, 
 The Dame and she the barriers graced. 
 
70 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO V. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Prize of the field, the young Buccleuch 
 An English knight led forth to view ; 
 Scarce rued the hoy his present plight, 
 
 So much he longed to see the fight. 
 Within the lists, in knightly pride, 
 
 High Home and haughty Dacre ride ; 
 Their leading staffs of steel they wield, 
 
 As marshals of the mortal field ; 
 
 While to each knight their care assigned 
 Like vantage of the sun and wind. 
 
 Then heralds hoarse did loud proclaim, 
 
 In king, and queen, and wardens name, 
 That none, while lasts the strife, 
 Should dare, by look, or sign, or word, 
 Aid to a champion to afford, 
 
 On peril of his life ; 
 
 And not a breath the silence broke, 
 
 Till thus the alternate Heralds spoke : — 
 
 XIX. 
 
 ENGLISH HERALD. 
 
 “ Here standeth Richard of Musgrave, 
 
 Good knight and true, and freely born, 
 Amends from Deloraine to crave, 
 
 For foul despiteous scathe and scorn. 
 
 He sayeth, that William of Deloraine 
 Is traitor false by Border laws ; 
 
 This with his sword he will maintain, 
 
 So help him God, and his good cause !” — 
 
 XX. 
 
 SCOTTISH HERALD. 
 
 u Here standeth William of Deloraine, 
 
 Good knight and true, of noble strain, 
 
 Who sayeth, that foul treason s stain, 
 
 X 
 
CANTO V.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 77 
 
 Since he bore arms, ne’er soiled his coat ; 
 
 And that, so help him God above ! 
 
 He will on Musgrave’s body prove, 
 
 He lies most foully in his throat.” — 
 
 LORD DACRE. 
 
 “ Forward, brave champions, to the fight ! 
 
 Sound trumpets !” 
 
 LORD home: 
 
 “ God defend the right !” — 
 
 Then, Teviot ! how thine echoes rang, 
 
 When bugle-sound and trumpet-clang 
 Let loose the martial foes, 
 
 And in mid list, with shield poised high, 
 
 And measured step and wary eye, 
 
 The combatants did close. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Ill would it suit your gentle ear, 
 
 Ye lovely listeners, to hear 
 
 How to the axe the helms did sound, 
 
 And blood poured down from many a wound ; 
 
 For desperate was the strife and long, 
 
 And either warrior fierce and strong. 
 
 But, were each dame a listening knight, 
 
 I well could tell how warriors fight ; 
 
 For I have seen war’s lightning flashing, 
 
 Seen the claymore with bayonet clashing, 
 
 Seen through red blood the war-horse dashing, 
 
 And scorned, amid the reeling strife, 
 
 To yield a step for death or life. 
 
 * XXII. 
 
 ’Tis done, ’tis done ! that fatal blow 
 "Has stretched him on the bloody plain; 
 
 He strives to rise Brave Musgrave, no ! 
 
 Thence never shalt thou rise again ! 
 
78 THR LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO V. 
 
 He chokes in blood — some friendly hand 
 Undo the visor’s barred band, 
 
 Unfix the gorget’s iron clasp, 
 
 And give him room for life to gasp ! — 
 
 O, bootless aid ! — haste, holy Friar, 
 
 Haste, ere the sinner shall expire ! 
 
 Of all his guilt let him be shriven, 
 
 And smooth his path from earth to heaven ! 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 In haste the holy Friar sped • — 
 
 His naked foot was dyed with red, 
 
 As through the lists he ran ; 
 
 Unmindful of the shouts on high, 
 
 •That hailed the conqueror’s victory, 
 
 He raised the dying man ; 
 
 Loose waved his silver beard and hair, 
 
 As o’er him he kneeled down in prayer ; 
 
 And still the crucifix on high 
 He holds before his darkening eye ; 
 
 And still he bends an anxious ear, 
 
 His faultering penitence to hear : 
 
 Still props him from the bloody sod, 
 
 Still, even when soul and body part, 
 
 Pours ghostly comfort on his heart, 
 
 And bids him trust in God ! 
 
 Unheard he prays ; — the death-pang’s o’er ! — 
 Richard of Musgrave breathes no more. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 As if exhausted in the fight, 
 
 * Or musing o’er the piteous sight, 
 
 The silent victor stands ; 
 
 His beaver did he not unclasp, 
 
 Marked not the shouts, felt not the grasp 
 Of gratulating hands. 
 
CANTO V.] the lay op the last minstrel. 
 
 79 
 
 When lo ! strange cries of wild surprise, 
 Mingled with seeming terror, rise 
 Among the Scottish bands ; 
 
 And all, amid the thronged array, 
 
 In panic haste, gave open way 
 To a half-naked, ghastly man, 
 
 Who downward from the castle ran : 
 
 He crossed the barriers at a bound, 
 
 And wild and haggard looked around, 
 
 As dizzy, and in pain ; 
 
 And all, upon the armed ground, 
 
 Knew William of Deloraine ! 
 
 Each ladye sprung from seat with speed ; 
 Vaulted each marshal from his steed ; 
 
 “ And who art thou,” they cried, 
 
 “ Who hast this battle fought and won ?” 
 His plumed helm was soon undone — 
 
 “ Cranstoun of Teviot-side ! 
 
 For this fair prize I’ve fought and won,” — 
 And to the Ladye led her son. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 F ull oft the rescued boy she kissed, 
 
 And often pressed him to her breast ; 
 
 For, under all her dauntless show, 
 
 Her heart had throbbed at every blow; 
 
 Y et not Lord Cranstoun deigned she greet, 
 Though low he kneeled at her feet. 
 
 Me lists not tell what words were made, 
 What Douglas, Home, and Howard said — 
 For Howard was a generous foe — 
 
 And how the clan united prayed, 
 
 The Ladye would the feud forego, 
 
 And deign to bless the nuptial hour 
 Of Cranstoun's Lord and Teviot's Flower. 
 
80 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [ C ANTO V. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 She looked to river, looked to hill, 
 
 Thought on the Spirit’s prophecy, 
 
 Then broke her silence stern and still, — 
 
 “ Not you, but Fate, has vanquished me ; 
 Their influence kindly stars may shower 
 On Teviot’s tide and Branksome’s tower, 
 
 For pride is quelled, and love is free/’ — 
 
 She took fair Margaret by the hand, 
 
 Who, breathless, trembling, scarce might stand ; 
 
 That hand to Cranstoun’s lord gave she : — 
 
 “ As I am true to thee and thine. 
 
 Do thou be true to me and mine ! 
 
 This clasp of love our bond shall be : 
 
 For this is your betrothing day, 
 
 And all these noble lords shall stay, 
 
 To grace it with their company.” — 
 
 xxvir. 
 
 All as they left the listed plain, 
 
 Much of the story she did gain ; 
 
 How Cranstoun fought with Deloraine, 
 
 And of his Page, and of the Book, 
 
 Which from the wounded knight he took ; 
 
 And how he sought her castle high, 
 
 That mom, by help of gramarye ; 
 
 How, in Sir William’s armour dight, 
 
 Stolen by his Page, while slept the knight, 
 
 He took on him the single fight. 
 
 But half his tale he left unsaid, 
 
 And lingered till he joined the maid. — 
 
 Cared not the Ladye to betray 
 Her mystic arts in view of day ; 
 
 But well she thought, ere midnight came, 
 
 Of that strange Page the pride to tame, 
 
CANTO V.j 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 81 
 
 From his foul hands the Book to save, 
 
 And send it back to Michael’s grave. — 
 
 Needs not to tell each tender word 
 
 ’Twixt Margaret and ’twixt Cranstoun s lord ; 
 
 Nor how she told of former woes, 
 
 And how her bosom fell and rose 
 While he and Musgrave bandied blows. — 
 Needs not these lovers’ joys to tell ; 
 
 One day, fair maids, you’ll know them well. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 William of Deloraine, some chance 
 Had wakened from his deathlike trance ; 
 
 And taught that, in the listed plain, 
 
 Another, in his arms and shield, 
 
 Against fierce Musgrave axe did wield, 
 
 Under the name of Deloraine. 
 
 Hence, to the field, unarmed he ran, 
 
 And hence his presence scared the clan, 
 
 Who held him for some fleeting wraith*, 
 
 And not a man of blood and breath. 
 
 Not much this new ally he loved, 
 
 Yet, when he saw what hap had proved, 
 
 He greeted him right heartilie : 
 
 He would not waken old debate, 
 
 For he was void of rancorous hate, 
 
 Though rude arid scant of courtesy ; 
 
 In raids he spilt but seldom blood, 
 
 Unless when men-at-arms withstood, 
 
 Or, as was meet, for deadly feud. 
 
 He ne’er bore grudge for stalwart blow, 
 
 Ta’en in fair fight from gallant foe : 
 
 And so ’twas seen of him, e’en now, 
 
 When on dead Musgrave he looked down ; 
 
 The spectral apparition of a living person . 
 
82 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [canto V. 
 
 Grief darkened on his rugged brow, 
 Though half disguised with a frown; 
 And thus, while sorrow bent his head, 
 
 His foeman’s epitaph he made. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 “ Now, Richard Musgrave, liest thou here ! 
 
 I ween, my deadly enemy ; 
 
 For, if I slew thy brother dear, 
 
 Thou slewest a sister's son to me ; 
 
 And when I lay in dungeon dark, 
 
 Of Naworth Castle, long months three, 
 Till ransomed for a thousand mark, 
 
 Dark Musgrave, it was long of thee. 
 And, Musgrave, could our fight be tried, 
 And thou wert now alive, as I, 
 
 No mortal man should us divide, 
 
 Till one, or both of us, did die. 
 
 Yet rest thee, God ! for well I know 
 I ne'er shall find a nobler foe ; 
 
 In all the northern counties here, 
 
 Whose word is, Snaffle, spur, and spear*, 
 Thou wert the best to follow gear. 
 
 'Twas pleasure, as we looked behind, 
 
 To see how thou the chase couldst wind, 
 Cheer the dark blood-hound on his way, 
 And with the bugle rouse the fray ! 
 
 I’d give the lands of Deloraine, 
 
 Dark Musgrave were alive again.” — 
 
 XXX. 
 
 So mourned he, till Lord Dacre’s band 
 Were bowning back to Cumberland. 
 
 * The lands, that over Ouse to Berwick forth do hear, 
 
 Have for their blazon had, the snaffle, spur, and spear. 
 
 Poly-albion , Song xiii. 
 
CANTO V.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 They raised brave Musgrave from the field, 
 And laid him on his bloody shield ; 
 
 On levelled lances, four and four, 
 
 By turns the noble burden bore. 
 
 Before, at times, upon the gale, 
 
 W as heard the Minstrel’s plaintive wail ; 
 Behind, four priests, in sable stole, 
 
 Sung requiem for the warrior’s soul ; 
 Around, the horsemen slowly rode ; 
 
 With trailing pikes the spearmen trode ; 
 And thus the gallant knight they bore, 
 Through Liddesdale, to Leven’s shore ; 
 Thence to Holme Coltrame’s lofty nave, 
 And laid him in his father’s grave. 
 
 The harp’s wild notes, though hushed the song, 
 The mimic march of death prolong ; 
 
 Now seems it far, and now a-ncar, 
 
 Now meets, and now eludes the ear ; 
 
 Now seems some mountain side to sweep, 
 
 Now faintly dies in valley deep ; 
 
 Seems now as if the Minstrel’s wail, 
 
 Now the sad requiem, loads the gale ; 
 
 Last, o’er the warrior’s closing grave, 
 
 Rung the full choir in choral stave. 
 
 After due pause, they bade him tell, 
 
 Why he, who touched the harp so well, 
 
 Should thus, with ill-rewarded toil, 
 
 Wander a poor and thankless soil, 
 
 When the more generous southern land 
 Would well requite his skilful hand \ 
 g 2 
 
84 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO V. 
 
 The aged Harper, howsoe’er 
 His only friend, his harp, was dear, 
 
 Liked not to hear it ranked so high 
 Above his flowing poesy ; 
 
 Less liked he still, that scornful jeer 
 Misprized the land he loved so dear : 
 
 High was the sound, as thus again 
 The Bard resumed his minstrel strain. 
 
 END OF GANTO THE FIFTH, 
 
CANTO THE SIXTH. 
 
 Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, 
 Who never to himself hath said, 
 
 This is my own, my native land ! 
 
 Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, 
 As home his footsteps he hath turned, 
 
 From wandering on a foreign strand ! 
 
 If such there breathe, go, mark him well ; 
 For him no minstrel raptures swell ; 
 
 High though his titles, proud his name, 
 Boundless his wealth, as wish can claim ; 
 Despite those titles, power, and pelf, 
 
 The wretch, concentred all in self, 
 
 Living, shall forfeit fair renown, 
 
 And, doubly dying, shall go down 
 To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, 
 Unwept, unhonoured, and unsung. 
 
 n. 
 
 O Caledonia ! stern and wild, 
 
 Meet nurse for a poetic child ! 
 
 Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, 
 Land of the mountain and the flood, 
 Land of my sires ! what mortal hand 
 Can e'er untie the filial band 
 
86 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, [cANTO VI. 
 
 That knits me to thy rugged strand ! 
 
 Still, as I view each well-known scene, 
 
 Think what is now, and what hath been, 
 
 Seems as, to me, of all bereft, 
 
 Sole friends thy woods and streams were left : 
 
 And thus 1 love them better still, 
 
 Even in extremity of ill. 
 
 By Yarrow’s stream still let me stray, 
 
 Though none should guide my feeble way ; 
 
 Still feel the breeze down Ettrick break, 
 
 Although it chill my withered cheek ; 
 
 Still lay my head by Teviot stone, 
 
 Though there, forgotten and alone, 
 
 The Bard may draw his parting groan. 
 
 hi. 
 
 Not scorned like me ! to Branksome Hall 
 The Minstrels came, at festive call ; 
 
 Trooping they came, from near and far, 
 
 The jovial priests of mirth and war ; 
 
 Alike for feast and fight prepared, 
 
 Battle and banquet both they shared. 
 
 Of late, before each martial clan, 
 
 They blew their death- note in the van, 
 
 But now, for every merry mate, 
 
 Rose the portcullis’ iron grate ; 
 
 They sound the pipe, they strike the string, 
 
 They dance, they revel, and they sing, 
 
 Till the rude turrets shake and ring. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Me lists not at this tide declare 
 The splendour of the spousal rite, 
 
 How mustered in the chapel fair 
 
 Both maid and matron, squire and knight ; 
 Me lists not tell of owches rare, 
 
 Of mantles green and braided hair, 
 
37 
 
 CANTO Vi ] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 And kirtles furred with miniver ; 
 
 What plumage waved the altar round, 
 How spurs, and ringing chainlets, sound : 
 And hard it were for bard to speak 
 The changeful hue of Margaret's cheek ; 
 That lovely hue which comes and flies, 
 As awe and shame alternate rise ! 
 
 Some bards have sung, the Ladye high 
 Chapel or altar came not nigh ; 
 
 Nor durst the rites of spousal grace, 
 
 So much she feared each holy place. 
 False slanders these : — I trust right well 
 She wrought not by forbidden spell : 
 
 For mighty words and signs have power 
 O’er sprites in planetary hour : 
 
 Yet scarce I praise their venturous part, 
 Who tamper with such dangerous art. 
 But this for faithful truth I say, 
 
 The Ladye by the altar stood, 
 
 Of sable velvet her array, 
 
 And on her head a crimson hood, 
 With pearls embroidered and entwined, 
 Guarded with gold, with ermine lined ; 
 
 A merlin sat upon her wrist, 
 
 Held by a leash of silken twist. 
 
 VI. 
 
 The spousal rites were ended soon : 
 ’Twas now the merry hour of noon, 
 
 And in the lofty arched hall 
 Was spread the gorgeous festival. 
 Steward and squire, with heedful haste, 
 Marshalled the rank of every guest ; 
 Pages, with ready blade, were there, 
 The mighty meal to carve and share : 
 
THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO 
 
 O’er capon, heron-shew, and crane, 
 
 And princely peacock’s gilded train, 
 
 And o’er the boar-head, garnished brave. 
 
 And cygnet from St. Mary’s wave ; 
 
 O’er ptarmigan and venison, 
 
 The priest had spoke his benison. 
 
 Then rose the riot and the din, 
 
 Above, beneath, without, within ! 
 
 For, from the lofty balcony, 
 
 Rung trumpet, shalm, and psaltery ; 
 
 Their clanging howls old warriors quaffed, 
 Loudly they spoke, and loudly laughed ; 
 Whispered young knights, in tone more mild, 
 To ladies fair, and ladies smiled. 
 
 The hooded hawks, high perched on beam, 
 
 The clamour joined with whistling scream, 
 
 And flapped their wings, and shook their bells, 
 In concert with the stag-hound’s yells. 
 
 Round go the flasks of ruddy wine, 
 
 From Bordeaux, Orleans, or the Rhine ; 
 
 Their tasks the busy sew’ers ply, 
 
 And all is mirth and revelry. 
 
 VII. 
 
 The Goblin Page, omitting still 
 No opportunity of ill, 
 
 Strove now, while blood ran hot and high, 
 To rouse debate and jealousy ; 
 
 Till Conrad, lord of Wolfenstein, 
 
 By nature fierce, and warm with wine. 
 And now in humour highly crossed 
 About some steeds his band had lost, 
 
 High words to words succeeding still, 
 Smote, with his gauntlet, stout H unthill ; 
 A hot and hardy Rutherford, 
 
 Whom men call Dickon Dr aw- the- Sword. 
 
* 
 
 CANTO VI.] THE LAY OP THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 He took it on the Page's saye, 
 
 Hunthill had driven these steeds away. 
 
 Then Howard, Home, and Douglas, rose, 
 The kindling discord to compose : 
 
 Stern Rutherford right little said, 
 
 But bit his glove, and shook his head. — 
 
 A fortnight thence, in Inglewood, 
 
 Stout Conrad, cold, and drenched in blood, 
 His bosom gored with many a wound, 
 
 Was by a woodman’s lyme-dog found ; 
 Unknown the manner of his death, 
 
 Gone was his brand, both sword and sheath ; 
 But ever from that time, ’twas said, 
 
 That Dickon wore a Cologne blade. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The Dwarf, who feared his master’s eye 
 Might this foul treachery espie, 
 
 Now sought the castle buttery, 
 
 Where many a yeoman, bold and free, 
 Revelled as merrily and well 
 As those that sat in lordly selle. 
 
 Watt Tinlinn, there, did frankly raise 
 The pledge to Arthur Fire-the-Braes ; 
 
 And he, as by his breeding hound, 
 
 To Howard’s merry men sent it round. 
 
 To quit them, on the English side, 
 
 Red Roland Forster loudly cried, 
 
 “ A deep carouse to yon fair bride ! ” 
 
 At every pledge, from vat and pail, 
 
 Foamed forth, in floods, the nut-brown ale ; 
 While shout the riders every one, 
 
 Such day of mirth ne’er cheered their clan, 
 Since old Buccleuch the name did gain, 
 When in the cleuch the buck was ta’en. 
 
 89 
 
00 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO VI 
 
 IX. 
 
 The wily Page, with vengeful thought, 
 Remembered him of Tinlinn s yew, 
 
 And swore, it should be dearly bought 
 That ever he the arrow drew. 
 
 First, he the yeoman did molest, 
 
 With bitter gibe and taunting jest ; 
 
 Told, how he fled at Solway strife, 
 
 And how Hob Armstrong cheered his wife : 
 Then, shunning still his powerful arm, 
 
 At unawares he wrought him harm ; 
 
 From trencher stole his choicest cheer, 
 
 Dashed from his lips his can of beer ; 
 
 Then, to his knee sly creeping on, 
 
 With bodkin pierced him to the bone : 
 
 The venomed wound, and festering joint, 
 
 Long after rued that bodkin’s point. 
 
 The startled yeoman swore and spumed, 
 
 And board and flaggons overturned. 
 
 Riot and clamour wild began ; 
 
 Back to the hall the Urchin ran ; 
 
 Took in a darkling nook his post, 
 
 And grinned, and muttered, “ Lost ! lost ! lost ! 
 
 By this, the Dame, lest further fray 
 Should mar the concord of the day, 
 
 Had bid the minstrels tune their lay. 
 And first stept forth old Albert Graeme, 
 The Minstrel of that ancient name : 
 Was none who struck the harp so well, 
 Within the Land Debat eable ; 
 
 Well friended too, his hardy kin, 
 Whoever lost, were sure to win ; 
 
CANTO VI.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 91 
 
 They sought the beeves, that made their broth, 
 In Scotland and in England both. 
 
 In homely guise, as nature bade, 
 
 His simple song the Borderer said. 
 
 XI. 
 
 ALBERT GRAEME. 
 
 It was an English ladye bright, 
 
 (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall ;) 
 
 And she would marry a Scottish knight, 
 
 For Love will still be lord of all. 
 
 Blithely they saw the rising sun, 
 
 When he shone fair on Carlisle wall, 
 
 But they were sad ere day was done, 
 
 Though Love was still the lord of all. 
 
 Her sire gave brooch and jewel fine, 
 
 Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall ; 
 
 Her brother gave but a flask of wine, 
 
 For ire that Love was lord of all. 
 
 For she had lands, both meadow and lea, 
 Where tie sun shines fair on Carlisle wall, 
 
 And he swore her death, ere he would see 
 A Scottish knight the lord of all. 
 
 XII. 
 
 That wine she had not tasted well, 
 
 (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall ;) 
 
 When dead, in her true love’s arms, she fell, 
 
 For Love was still the lord of all. 
 
 He pierced her brother to the heart, 
 
 Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall ; — 
 
 So perish all, would true love part, 
 
 That Love may still be lord of all ! 
 
 And then he took the cross divine, 
 
 Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall, 
 
 And died for her sake in Palestine, 
 
 So Love was still the lord of all. 
 
92 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 [canto VI. 
 
 Now all ye lovers, that faithful prove, 
 (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall ;) 
 Pray for their souls who died for love, 
 
 For Love shall still he lord of all ! 
 
 XIII, 
 
 As ended Albert’s simple lay, 
 
 Arose a bard of loftier port, 
 
 For sonnet, rhyme, and roundelay, 
 Renowned in haughty Henry’s courf ; 
 There rung thy harp, unrivalled long, 
 Fitztraver, of the silver song ! 
 
 The gentle Surrey loved his lyre — 
 Who has not heard of Surrey’s fame ? 
 His was the hero’s soul of fire, 
 
 And his the bard’s immortal name, 
 And his was love, exalted high 
 Bv all the glow of chivalry. 
 
 XIV, 
 
 They sought, together, climes afar, 
 
 And oft, within some olive grove, 
 
 When evening came, with twinkling star, 
 They sang of Surrey’s absent love. 
 
 His step the Italian peasant staid, 
 
 And deemed that spirits from on high, 
 Round where some hermit saint was laid, N 
 W ere breathing heavenly melody ; 
 
 So sweet did harp and voice combine 
 To praise the name of Geraldine. 
 
 Fitztraver ! O what tongue may say 
 The pangs thy faithful bosom knew, 
 When Surrey, of the deathless lay, 
 Ungrateful Tudor’s sentence slew? 
 Regardless of the tyrant’s frown, 
 
 His harp called wrath and vengence down. 
 
CANTO VI.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 93 
 
 He left, for Na worth’s iron towers, 
 
 Windsor’s green glades, and courtly bowers, 
 
 And, faithful to his patron’s name, 
 
 With Howard still Fitztraver came; 
 
 Lord William’s foremost favourite he, 
 
 And chief of all his minstrelsy. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 FITZTRAVER. 
 
 ’Twas All-soul’s eve, and Surrey’s heart beat high ; 
 
 He heard the midnight-bell with anxious start, 
 
 Which told the mystic hour, approaching nigh, 
 
 When wise Cornelius promised, by his art, 
 
 To shew to him the ladye of his heart, 
 
 Albeit betwixt them roared the ocean grim ; 
 
 Yet so the sage had bight to play his part, 
 
 That he should see her form in life and limb, 
 
 And mark, if still she loved, and still she thought of him. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Dark was the vaulted room of graraarye, 
 
 To which the Wizard led the gallant Knight, 
 
 Save that before a mirror, huge and high, 
 
 A hallowed taper shed a glimmering light 
 On mystic implements of magic might ; 
 
 On cross, and character, and talisman, 
 
 And almagest, and altar, nothing bright ; 
 
 For fitful was the lustre, pale and w T an, 
 
 As watch-light by the bed of some departing man. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 But soon, within that mirror, huge and high, 
 
 Was seen a self-emitted light to gleam ; 
 
 And forms upon its breast the earl ’gan spy, 
 
 Cloudy and indistinct, as feverish dream ; 
 
 Till, slow arranging, and defined, they seem 
 To form a lordly and a lofty room, 
 
 Part lighted by a lamp with silver beam, 
 
 Placed by a couch of Agra’s silken loom, 
 
 And part by moonshine pale, and part was hid in gloom. 
 
94 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [canto VI. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Fair all the pageant — but how passing fair 
 
 The slender form, which lay on couch of Ind ! 
 O’er her white bosom strayed her hazel hair, 
 
 Pale her dear cheek, as if for love she pined ; 
 
 All in her night-robe loose she lay reclined, 
 
 And, pensive, read from tablet eburnine 
 Some strain, that seemed her inmost soul to find ; — 
 That favoured strain w 7 as Surrey’s raptured line, 
 That fair and lovely form, the Ladye Geraldine. 
 
 xx. 
 
 Slow rolled the clouds upon the lovely form, 
 
 And swept the goodly vision all aw T ay — 
 
 So royal envy rolled the murky storm 
 O’er my beloved Master’s glorious day. 
 
 Thou jealous, ruthless tyrant ! Heaven repay 
 On thee, and on thy children’s latest line, 
 
 The wild caprice of thy despotic sway, 
 
 The gory bridal bed, the plundered shrine, 
 
 The murdered Surrey’s blood, the tears of Geraldine! 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Both Scots, and Southern chiefs, prolong 
 Applauses of Fitztravers song : 
 
 These hated Henry's name as death, 
 
 And those still held the ancient faith. — 
 Then, from his seat, with lofty air, 
 
 Rose Harold, bard of brave St. Clair ; 
 
 St. Clair, who, feasting high at home, 
 
 Had with that Lord to battle come. 
 
 Harold was born where restless seas 
 Howl round the storm- swept Oread es ; 
 Where erst St. Clairs held princely sway 
 O’er isle and islet, strait and bay ; — 
 
 Still nods their palace to its fall, 
 
 Thy pride and sorrow, fair Kirkwall ! — 
 Thence oft he marked fierce Pentland rave, 
 As if grim Odin rode her wave ; 
 
CANTO VI.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 95 
 
 And watched, the whilst, with visage pale, 
 And throbbing heart, the struggling sail ; 
 For all of wonderful and wild 
 Had rapture for the lonely child. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 And much of wild and wonderful 
 In these rude isles might Fancy cull ; 
 
 For thither came, in times afar, 
 
 Stern Lochlin's sons of roving war, 
 
 The Norsemen, trained to spoil and blood, 
 Skilled to prepare the ravens food ; 
 
 Kings of the main their leaders brave, 
 
 Their barks the dragons of the wave. 
 
 And there, in many a stormy vale, 
 
 The Scald had told his wondrous tale ; 
 
 And many a Runic column high 
 Had witnessed grim idolatry. 
 
 And thus had Harold, in his youth, 
 
 Learned many a Saga’s rhyme uncouth, — 
 
 Of that Sea-Snake, tremendous curled, 
 
 Whose monstrous circle girds the world ; 
 
 Of those dread Maids, whose hideous yell 
 Maddens the battle's bloody swell ; 
 
 Of chiefs, who, guided through the gloom 
 By the pale death-lights of the tomb, 
 Ransacked the graves of warriors old, 
 
 Their faulchions wrenched from corpses' hold, 
 Waked the deaf tomb with war's alarms, 
 
 And bade the dead arise to arms ! 
 
 With war and wonder all on flame, 
 
 To Roslin’s bowers young Harold came, 
 Where, by sweet glen and greenwood tree, 
 
 He learned a milder minstrelsy ; 
 
 Yet something of the Northern spell 
 Mixed with the softer numbers well. 
 
96 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, [canto VI. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 HAROLD. 
 
 O listen, listen, ladies gay ! 
 
 No haughty feat of arras I tell : 
 
 Soft is the note, and sad the lay, 
 
 That mourns the lovely Rosabelle. — 
 
 “ Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant crew ! 
 
 And, gentle ladye, deign to stay ! 
 
 Rest thee in Castle Ravensheuch, 
 
 Nor tempt the stormy firth to-day. 
 
 “ The blackening wave is edged with white ; 
 
 To inch * and rock the sea-mews fly ; 
 
 The fishers have heard the Water Sprite, 
 Whose screams forebode that wreck is nigh. 
 
 “ Last night the gifted Seer did view 
 A wet shroud swathed round ladye gay ; 
 
 Then stay thee, Fair, in Ravensheuch : 
 
 Why cross the gloomy firth to-day? ” — 
 
 “ ’Tis not because Lord Lindesay’s heir 
 To-night at Roslin leads the ball, 
 
 But that my ladye-mother there 
 Sits lonely in her castle -hall. 
 
 • * 
 
 “ ’Tis not because the ring they ride, 
 
 And Lindesay at the ring rides well, 
 
 But that my sire the wine will chide, 
 
 If ’tis not filled by Rosabelle.” — 
 
 O’er Roslin all that dreary night 
 
 A wond’rous blaze was seen to gleam ; 
 
 ’Twas broader than the watch-fire light, 
 
 And redder than the bright moon-beam. 
 
 It glared on Roslin’s castled rock, 
 
 It ruddied all the copse- w T ood glen ; 
 
 ’Twas seen from Drey den’s groves of oak, 
 
 And seen from caverned Hawthornden. 
 
 * Inch, Isle. 
 
97 
 
 
 CANTO VI.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, 
 
 Seemed all on fire that chapel proud, 
 
 Where Roslin’s chiefs uncoffined lie ; 
 
 Eacli Baron, for a sable shroud, 
 
 Sheathed in his iron panoply. 
 
 Seemed all on fire within, around, 
 
 Deep sacristy and altar’s pale ; 
 
 Shone every pillar foliage-bound. 
 
 And glimmered all the dead men’s mail. 
 
 Blazed battlement and pinnet high, 
 
 Blazed every rose-carved buttress fair — 
 
 So still they blaze, when fate is nigh 
 The lordly line of high St. Clair. 
 
 There are twenty of Roslin’s barons bold 
 Lie buried within that proud chapelle ; 
 
 Each one the holy vault doth hold — 
 
 But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle ! 
 
 And each St. Clair was buried there, 
 
 With candle, with book, and with knell ; 
 
 But the sea-caves rung, and the wild winds sung, 
 
 The dirge of lovely Rosabelle. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 So sweet was Harold’s piteous lay, 
 
 Scarce marked the guests the darkened hall, 
 Though, long before the sinking day, 
 
 A wond’rous shade involved them all : 
 
 It was not eddying mist or fog, 
 
 Drained by the sun from fen or hog ; 
 
 Of no eclipse had sages told ; 
 
 And yet, as it came on apace, 
 
 Each one could scarce his neighbours face, 
 
 Could scarce his own stretched hand behold. 
 
 A secret horror checked the feast, 
 
 And chilled the soul of every guest ; 
 
 Even the high Dame stood half aghast, 
 
 She knew some evil on the blast : 
 
 The elvish Page fell to the ground, 
 
 And, shuddering, muttered, “ Found ! found ! found ! 
 
 H 
 
98 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [cANTO 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Then sudden, through the darkened air 
 A flash of lightning came ; 
 
 So broad, so bright, so red the glare, 
 
 The castle seemed on flame. 
 
 Glanced every rafter of the hall, 
 
 Glanced every shield upon the wall ; 
 
 Each trophied beam, each sculptured stone, 
 Were instant seen, and instant gone ; 
 
 Full through the guests' bedazzled band 
 Resistless flashed the levin-brand, 
 
 And filled the hall with smouldering smoke, 
 As on the elvish Page it broke. 
 
 It broke, with thunder long and loud, 
 Dismayed the brave, appalled the proud, — 
 From sea to sea the larum rung ; 
 
 On Berwick wall, and at Carlisle withal, 
 To arms the startled warders sprung. 
 When ended was the dreadful roar, 
 
 The elvish Dwarf was seen no more ! 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Some heard a voice in Branksome Hall, 
 
 Some saw a sight, not seen by all ; 
 
 That dreadful voice was heard by some 
 Cry, with loud summons, “ Gylbin, come ! ” 
 And on the spot where hurst the brand. 
 
 Just where the Page had flung him down, 
 Some saw an arm, and some a hand, 
 
 And some the waving of a gown ! 
 
 The guests in silence prayed and shook, 
 
 And terror dimmed each lofty look. 
 
 But none of all the astonished train 
 Was so dismayed as Deloraine ; 
 
 His blood did freeze, his brain did bum, 
 
 T was feared his mind would ne'er return ; 
 
CANTO VI. J THE lay of the last minstrel. 
 
 99 
 
 For lie was speechless, ghastly, wan, 
 
 Like him, of whom the story ran, 
 
 Who spoke the spectre-hound in Man*. 
 
 At length, by fits, he darkly told, 
 
 With broken hint, and shuddering cold — 
 
 That he had seen, right certainly, 
 
 A shape with amice wrapped around , 
 
 With a wrought Spanish baldric bounds 
 Like pilgrim from beyond the sea ; 
 
 And knew — but how it mattered not — 
 
 It was the wizard, Michael Scott ! 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 The anxious crowd, with horror pale, 
 
 All trembling, heard the wond’rous tale ; 
 
 No sound was made, no word w^as spoke, 
 
 Till noble Angus silence broke ; 
 
 And he a solemn sacred plight 
 Did to St. Bride of Douglas make, 
 
 That he a pilgrimage would take 
 To Melrose Abbey, for the sake 
 Of Michael’s restless sprite. 
 
 Then each, to ease his troubled breast, 
 
 To some blessed saint his prayers addressed : 
 
 Some to St. Modan made their vows, 
 
 Some to St. Mary of the Lowes, 
 
 Some to the Holy Rood of Lisle, 
 
 Some to our Lady of the Isle ; 
 
 Each did his patron witness make, 
 
 That he such pilgrimage would take, 
 
 And Monks should sing, and bells should toll, 
 
 All for the weal of Michael’s soul. 
 
 While vows were ta’en, and prayers w T ere prayed, 
 ’Tis said the noble Dame, dismayed, 
 
 Renounced, for aye, dark magic’s aid. 
 
 * The Isle of Man — See Note. 
 h 2 
 
 
100 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL, [canto 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Nought of the bridal will I tell, 
 
 Which after in short space befel ; 
 
 Nor how brave sons, and daughters fair, 
 Blessed Teviot's Flower, and Cranstoun’s heir : 
 After such dreadful scene, ’twere vain 
 To wake the note of mirth again. 
 
 More meet it were to mark the day 
 Of penitence and prayer divine, 
 
 When pilgrim- chiefs, in sad array, 
 
 . Sought Melrose' holy shrine. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 With naked foot, and sackcloth vest, 
 
 And arms enfolded on his breast, 
 
 Did every pilgrim go ; 
 
 The standers-by might hear uneath, 
 
 Footstep, or voice, or high-drawn breath, 
 Through all the lengthened row : 
 
 No lordly look, nor martial stride, 
 
 Gone was their glory, sunk their pride, 
 Forgotten their renown ; 
 
 Silent and slow, like ghosts, they glide 
 To the high altars hallowed side, 
 
 And there they kneeled them down : 
 
 Above the suppliant chieftains wave 
 The banners of departed brave ; 
 
 Beneath the lettered stones were laid 
 The ashes of their fathers dead ; 
 
 From many a garnished niche around, 
 
 Stern saints, and tortured martyrs, frowned. 
 
 And slow up the dim aisle afar, 
 
 With sable cowl and scapular, 
 
 And snow-white stoles, in order due, 
 The holy Fathers, two and two, 
 
 In long procession came ; 
 
CANTO vi.] THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 101 
 
 Taper, and host, and book they bare, 
 
 And holy banner, flourished fair 
 With the Redeemer’s name : 
 
 Above the prostrate pilgrim band 
 The mitred Abbot stretched his hand, 
 
 And blessed them as they kneeled ; 
 
 With holy cross he signed them all, 
 
 And prayed they might be sage in hall, 
 
 And fortunate in field. 
 
 Then mass was sung, and prayers were said, 
 And solemn requiem for the dead ; 
 
 And bells tolled out their mighty peal, 
 
 For the departed spirit’s weal ; 
 
 And ever in the office close 
 The hymn of intercession rose ; 
 
 And far the echoing aisles prolong 
 The awful burthen of the song, — 
 
 Dies ir^e, dies tlla, 
 
 SoLVET SPECULUM IN FAVILLA ; 
 
 While the pealing organ rung ; 
 
 Were it meet with sacred strain 
 To close my lay, so light and vain, 
 
 Thus the holy Fathers sung. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 HYMN FOR THE DEAD. 
 
 That day of wrath, that dreadful day, 
 
 When heaven and earth shall pass away, 
 What power shall be the sinner’s stay ? 
 
 How shall he meet that dreadful day ? 
 
 When, shrivelling like a parched scroll. 
 
 The flaming heavens together roll ; 
 
 When louder yet, and yet more dread, 
 Swells the high trump that wakes the dead ! 
 
 O ! on that day, that wrathful day, 
 
 When man to judgment wakes from clay, 
 Be Thou the trembling sinner’s stay, 
 Though heaven and earth shall pass away ! 
 
102 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. [ C ANTO VI. 
 
 Hushed is the harp — the Minstrel gone. 
 And did he wander forth alone ? 
 
 Alone, in indigence and age, 
 
 To linger out his pilgrimage ? 
 
 No : — close beneath proud Newark’s tower, 
 Arose the Minstrel’s lowly bower ; 
 
 A simple hut ; but there was seen 
 The little garden, hedged with green, 
 
 The cheerful hearth, and lattice clean. 
 There sheltered wanderers, by the blaze, 
 Oft heard the tale of other days ; 
 
 For much he loved to ope his door, 
 
 And give the aid he begged before. 
 
 So passed the winter s day ; hut still, 
 When summer smiled on sweet Bowhill, 
 And J uly’s eve, with balmy breath, 
 
 Waved the blue-bells on Newark heath ; 
 When # throstles sung in Hare -head shaw, 
 And com was green on Carterhaugh, 
 
 And flourished, broad, Blackandro’s oak, 
 The aged Harper’s soul awoke ! 
 
 Then would he sing achievements high, 
 And circumstance of chivalry, 
 
 Till the rapt traveller would stay, 
 Forgetful of the closing day ; 
 
 And noble youths, the strain to hear, 
 Forsook the hunting of the deer ; 
 
 And Yarrow, as he rolled along, 
 
 Bore burthen to the Minstrel’s song. 
 
 END OF CANTO THE SIXTH. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 P. 5, 1. 1. 
 
 The feast was over in Branksome tower , 
 
 In the reign of James I. Sir William Scott of Buccleuch, chief 
 of the clan hearing that name, exchanged, with Sir Thomas Inglis 
 of Manor, the estate of Murdiestone, in Lanarkshire, for one half 
 of the barony of Branksome, or Branxholm*, lying upon the 
 Teviot, about three miles above Hawick. He was probably induced 
 to this transaction from the vicinity of Branksome to the extensive 
 domain which he possessed in Ettrick Forest and in Teviotdale. 
 In the former district he held by occupancy the estate of Buc- 
 cleuch +, and much of the forest land on the river Ettrick. In 
 Teviotdale, he enjoyed the barony of Eckford, by a grant from 
 Robert II. to his ancestor, Walter Scott, of Kirkurd, fo*r the appre- 
 hending of Gilbert Ridderford, confirmed by Robert III., 3d May, 
 1424. Tradition imputes the exchange betwixt Scott and Inglis 
 to a conversation, in which the latter, — a man, it would appear, 
 of a mild and forbearing nature,— complained much of the injuries 
 which he was exposed to from the English Borderers, who frequently 
 plundered his lands of Branksome. Sir William Scott instantly 
 offered him the estate of Murdiestone, in exchange for that which 
 was subject to such egregious inconvenience. When the bargain 
 was completed, he drily remarked, that the cattle in Cumberland 
 were as good as those of Teviotdale : and proceeded to commence 
 a system of reprisals upon the English, which was regularly pur- 
 sued by his successors. In the next reign, James II. granted to 
 Sir Walter Scott of Branksome, and to Sir David, his son, the 
 remaining half of the barony of Branksome, to be held in blanche 
 for the payment of a red rose. The cause assigned for the grant 
 is, their brave and faithful exertions in favour of the king against 
 the house of Douglas, with whom James had been recently tugging 
 
 • Branxholm is the proper name of the harony ; hut Branksome has been 
 adopted, as suitable to the pronunciation, and more proper for poetry. 
 
 f There are no vestiges of any building at Buccleuch, except the site of 
 a chapel, where, according to a tradition current in the time of Scott of 
 Satchells, many of the ancient barons of Buccleuch lie buried. There is also 
 said to have been a mill near this solitary spot ; an extraordinary circumstance, 
 as little or no corn grows within several miles of Buccleuch. Satchells says it 
 was used to grind corn for the hounds of the chieftain. 
 
104 
 
 NOTES* 
 
 for the throne of Scotland. This charter is dated the 2d February, 
 1443 ; and, in the same month, part of the barony of Langholm, 
 and many lands in Lanarkshire, were conferred upon Sir Walter 
 and his son by the same monarch. 
 
 After the period of the exchange with Sir Thomas Inglis, Brank- 
 some became the principal seat of the Buccleuch family. The 
 castle was enlarged and strengthened by Sir David Scott, the 
 grandson of Sir William, its first possessor. But, in 1570-1, the 
 vengeance of Elizabeth, provoked by the inroads of Buccleuch, 
 and his attachment to the cause of Queen Mary, destroyed the 
 castle, and laid waste the lands of Branksome. In the same year 
 the castle was repaired and enlarged by Sir Walter Scott, its brave 
 possessor ; but the work was not completed until after his death, 
 in 1574, when the widow finished the building. This appears from 
 the following inscriptions. Around a stone, bearing the arms of 
 Scott of Buccleuch, appears the following legend : “ sir w. scott, 
 
 OF BRANXHEIM KNYT YOE OF SIR WILLIAM SCOTT OF KIRKURD KNYT 
 BEGAN YE WORK UPON YE 24 OF MARCHE 1571 ZEIR QUHA DEPARTIT 
 at god’s pleisour ye 17 April 1574.” On a similar compartment are 
 sculptured the arms of Douglas, with this inscription, “dame 
 
 MARGARET DOUGLAS HIS SPOUS COMPLETIT THE FORSAID WORK IN 
 
 October 1576.” Over an arched door is inscribed the following moral 
 verse : — 
 
 IN. VARLD. IS. NOCHT. NATURE. HES. VROUGHT. YAT. SAL. LEST. AY. 
 THARFORE. SERVE. GOD. KEIP. VEIL. YE ROD. THY. FAME. SAL. NOCHT. 
 
 DEKAY. 
 
 SIB WALTER SCOT OF BRANXHOLM KNIGHT. MARGARET DOUGLAS 
 
 1571. 
 
 Branksome Castle continued to be the principal seat of the Bue- 
 cleuch family, while security was any object in their choice of a 
 mansion. It has since been the residence of the Commissioners, 
 or Chamberlains, of the family. From the various alterations 
 which the building has undergone, it is not only greatly restricted 
 in its dimensions, but retains little of the castellated form, if we 
 exceed; one square tower ' f massy thickness, the only part of the 
 original\building which now remains. The whole forms a hand- 
 some modern residence, and is now inhabited by my respected 
 friend, Adam Ogilvy, Esq. of Hartwoodmyres, Commissioner of his 
 Grace the Duke of Buccleuch. 
 
 The extent of the ancient edifice can still be traced by some 
 vestiges of its foundation, and its strength is obvious from the 
 situation, on a deep bank surrounded by the Teviot, and flanked 
 by a deep ravine, formed by a precipitous brook. It was anciently 
 surrounded by wood, as appears from the survey of Roxburghshire, 
 made for Ponts’ Atlas, and preserved in the Advocates’ Library. 
 This wood was cut about fifty years ago, but is now replaced by 
 the thriving plantations which have been formed by the noble 
 proprietor, for miles around the ancient mansion of his fore- 
 fathers. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 105 
 
 P. 5, 1. 16. 
 
 Nine-and-twenty knights of fame 
 
 Hung their shields in Branksome Hall ; 
 
 The ancient barons of Buccleuch, both from feudal splendour, 
 and from their frontier situation, retained in their household, at 
 Branksome, a number of gentlemen of their own name, who held 
 lands from their chief, for the military service of watching and 
 warding his castle. Satchells tells us, in hisdoggrel poetry, 
 
 No baron was better served in Britain ; 
 
 The barons of Buckleugh they kept their call. 
 
 Four and twenty gentlemen in their hall, 
 
 All being of his name and kin ; 
 
 Each two had a servant to wait upon them ; 
 
 Before supper and dinner, most renowned. 
 
 The bells rung and the trumpets sowned, 
 
 And more than that, I do confess, 
 
 They kept four and twenty pensioners. 
 
 Think not I lie, nor do me blame, 
 
 For the pensioners I can all name : 
 
 There’s men alive, elder than I, 
 
 They know if I speak truth, or lie ; 
 
 Every pensioner a room * did gain, 
 
 For service done and to be done ; 
 
 This I’ll let the reader understand, 
 
 The name both of the men and land. 
 
 Which they possessed, it is of truth, 
 
 Both from the lairds and lords of Buckleugh. 
 
 Accordingly, dismounting from his Pegasus, Satchells gives us, 
 in prose, the names of twenty-four gentlemen, younger brothers of 
 ancient families, who were pensioners to the house of Buccleuch, 
 and describes the lands which each possessed for his Border service. 
 In time of war with England, the garrison was doubtless aug- 
 mented. Satchells adds, “ These twenty- three pensioners, all of 
 his own name of Scott, and Walter Gladstanes of Whitelaw, a near 
 cousin of my Lord’s, as aforesaid, were ready on all occasions, 
 when his honour pleased cause to advertise them. It is known to 
 many of the country better than it is to me, that the rent of these 
 lands, which the lairds and lords of Buccleuch did freely bestow 
 upon their friends, will amount to above twelve or fourteen thou- 
 sand merks a-year.” — History of the name of Scott , p. 45. An 
 immense sum in those times. 
 
 P. 6, 1. 20. 
 
 And with Jedwood-axe at saddle-how ; 
 
 “Of a truth,” says Froissart, “the Scottish cannot boast great 
 
 Room, portion of land. 
 
106 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 skill with the how, hut rather hear axes, with which, in time of 
 need, they give heavy strokes.” The Jedwood-axe was a sort of 
 partizan, used hy horsemen, as appears from the arms of Jedhurgh, 
 which bear a cavalier mounted, and armed with this weapon. It 
 is also called a Jedwood or Jeddart staff. 
 
 P. 6, 1. 29. 
 
 They watch , against Southern force and guile , 
 
 Lest Scroop , or Howard, or Percy's powers , 
 
 Threaten Branksome’s lordly towers. 
 
 From Warkworth, or Naworth , or merry Carlisle. 
 
 Branksome Castle was continually exposed to the attacks of the 
 English, both from its situation and the restless military dispo- 
 sition of its inhabitants, who were seldom on good terms with their 
 neighbours. The following letter from the Earl of Northumberland 
 to Henry VIII., in 1533, gives an account of a successful inroad of 
 the English, in which the country was plundered up to the gates of 
 the castle, although the invaders failed in their principal object, 
 which was, to kill, or make prisoner, the laird of Buccleuch. It 
 occurs in the Cotton MS. Calig. B VIII. f. 222. 
 
 “ Pleaseth yt your most gracious highnes to be aduertised, that 
 my comptroller, with Raynald Carnaby, desyred license of me to 
 invade the realme of Scotland, for the annoysaunce of your highnes 
 enemys, where they thought best exploit by theyme might be done, 
 and to haue to concur withe theyme the inhabitants of Northum- 
 berland, suche as was towards me according to theyre assembly, 
 and as by theyre discrecions vppone the same they shulde thinke 
 most convenient ; and soo they dyde mete vppon Monday, before 
 nyght, being the iii day of this instant monethe, at Wawhope, 
 uppon northe Tyne water, above Tyndaill, where they were to the 
 number of xv c men, and soo invadet Scotland, at the hour of viii 
 of the clok at nyght, at a place called Whele Causay ; and before 
 xi of the clok dyd send forth a forrey of Tyndaill and Ryddisdail, 
 and laide all the resydewe in a bushment, and actyvely dyd set 
 vpon a towne called Branxholm, where the lord of Buclough 
 dwellythe, and purpesed theymeselves with a trayne for hym lyke 
 to his accustomed manner, in rysynge to all frayes ; albeit, that 
 knyght he was not at home, and soo they brynt the said Branx- 
 holm, and otheir townes, as to say Whichestre, Whichestre-helme, 
 and Whelley, and haid ordered theymeself soo, that sundry of the 
 said Lord Buclough’s servants, who dyd issue fourthe of his gates, 
 was takyn prisoners. They dyd not leve one house, one stak of 
 corne, nor one shyef, without the gate of the said Lord Buclough 
 vnbrynt ; and thus scrymaged and frayed, supposing the Lord of 
 Boclough to be within iii or iiii myles to have trayned him to 
 the bushment ; and soo in the breyking of the day dyd the forrey 
 and the bushment mete, and reculed homeward, making theyrway 
 westward from theyre invasion to be over Lyddersdaill, as in- 
 tending yf the fray from theyre furst entry by the Scotts waiches, 
 
NOTES. 
 
 107 
 
 \ 
 
 or otlierwyse by wamyng, shulde haue bene gyven to Gedworth 
 and the countrey of Scotland theyreabouts of theyre invasion ; 
 whiche Gedworth is from the Wheles Causay vi myles, that thereby 
 the Scots shulde have comen further vnto theyme, and more owte 
 of ordre ; and soo vpon sundry good consideracons, before they 
 entered Lyddersdaill, as well accompting the inhabitants of the 
 same to be towards your highness, and to enforce theyme the 
 more therby, as alsoo to put an occasion of suspect to the kinge 
 of Scotts and his counsaill, to be taken anenst them, amonges 
 theymeselves, maid proclamacions, commanding, vpon payne of 
 dethe, assurance to be for the said inhabitants of Lyddersdaill, 
 without any prejudice or hurt to be done by any Inglysman vnto 
 theyme, and soo in good ordre abowte the howre of ten of the clok 
 before none, vppone Tewisday, dyd pas through the said Lydders- 
 daill, when dyd come diverse of the said inhabitants there to my 
 servauntes, under the said assurance, offerring theymeselfs with 
 any service they couthe make ; and thus, thanks be to Godde, your 
 highnes’ subjects, abowte the howre of xii of the clok at none the 
 same daye. came into this youre highnes realme, bringing wt 
 theyme above xl Scottsmen prisoners, one of theyme named Scot, 
 of the surname and kyn of the said Lord of Buclough, and of 
 his howsehold ; they brought alsoo ccc nowte, and above lx horse 
 and mares, keping in savetie from losse or hurte all your said 
 highnes subjects. There was alsoo a town called Newbyggins, by 
 diverse fotmen of Tyndaill and Ryddesdaill takyn vp of the night, 
 and spoyled, when was slayne ii Scottsmen of the said towne, and 
 many Scotts there hurte; your highnes subjects was xiii myles 
 within the grounde of Scotlande, and is frome my house at Werk- 
 worthe, above lx miles of the most evill passage, where great 
 snawes dothe lye ; heretofore the same townes now byrnt liaith not 
 at any tyme in the mynd of man in any warrs been enterprised 
 unto no we; your subjects were thereto more encouraged for the 
 better advancement of your highnes service, the said Lord of 
 Buclough beyng always a mortall enemy to this your graces realme, 
 and he dyd say, within xiii days before, he woulde see who durst 
 lye near him ; wt many other cruell words, the knowledge whereof 
 was certaynly haid to my said servaunts, before theyre enterprice 
 maid vppon him ; most humbly beseeching your majesty that youre 
 highnes thanks may concur vnto theyme, whose names be here 
 inclosed, and to have in your most gracious memory the paynfull 
 and diligent service of my pore servaunte Wharton, and thus, as I 
 am most bounden, shall dispose wt them that be vnder me f . . . 
 
 annoysaunce of your highnes enemys.” In resentment 
 
 of this foray, Buccleuch, with other border chiefs, assembled an 
 army of 3000 riders, with w r hich they penetrated into Northumber- 
 land, and laid waste the country as far as the banks of Bramish. 
 They baffled, or defeated, the English forces opposed to them, and 
 returned loaded with prey. — Pinkerton’s History , vol. ii. p. 318. 
 
108 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 p. 7, 1. 6, 
 
 Bards long shall tell , 
 
 How Lord Walter fell / 
 
 Sir Walter Scott of Buccleuch succeeded to his grandfather, Sir 
 David, in 1492. He was a brave and powerful baron, and warden 
 of the west marches of Scotland. His death was the consequence 
 of a feud betwixt the Scotts and Kerrs, the history of which is 
 necessary, to explain repeated allusions in the romance. 
 
 In the year 1526, in the words of Pitscottie, “ The Earl of Angus, 
 and the rest of the Douglasses, ruled all which they liked, and 
 no man durst say the contrary ; wherefore the king (James V. then 
 a minor) was heavily displeased, and would fain have been out 
 of their hands, if he might by any way : And, to that effect, 
 wrote a quiet and secret letter with his own hand, and sent it to 
 the laird of Buccleuch, beseeching him that he would come with 
 his kin and friends, and all the force that he might be, and meet 
 him at Melross, at his home-passing, and there to take him out of 
 the Douglasses hands, and to put him to liberty, to use himself 
 among the lave (rest) of his lords, as he thinks expedient. 
 
 “ This letter was quietly directed, and sent by one of the king’s 
 own secret servants, which was received very thankfully by the 
 laird of Buccleugh, who was very glad thereof, to be put to such 
 charges and familiarity with his prince, and did great diligence to 
 perform the king’s writing, and to bring the matter to pass as the 
 king desired : And, to that effect, convened all his kin and friends, 
 and all that would do for him, to ride with him to Melross, when 
 he knew of the king’s home-coming. And so he brought with him 
 six hundred spears of Liddesdale, and Annandale, and countrymen, 
 and clans thereabout, and held themselves quiet while that the 
 king returned out of Jedburgh, and came to Melross, to remain 
 there all that night. 
 
 “ But when the Lord Hume, Cessfoord, and Fernyhirst, (the 
 chiefs of the clan of Kerr,) took their leave of the king, and returned 
 home, then appeared the Lord of Buccleuch in sight, and his com- 
 pany with him, in an arrayed battle, intending to have fulfilled the 
 king’s petition, and therefore came stoutly forward on the back side 
 of Haliden hill By that the Earl of Angus, with George Douglas, 
 his brother, and sundry other of his friends, seeing this army 
 coming, they marvelled what the matter meant ; while at the last 
 they knew the laird of Buccleuch, with a certain company of the 
 thieves of Annandale. With him they were less aff eared, and made 
 them manfully to the field contrary them, and said to the king in 
 this manner, ‘Sir, yon is Buckleuch, and thieves of Annandale 
 with him, to unbeset your Grace from the gate ( i . e. interrupt your 
 passage). I vow to God they shall either fight or flee ; and ye shall 
 tarry here on this know, and my brother George with you, with any 
 other company you please ; and I shall pass, and put yon thieves off 
 the ground, and rid the gate unto your Grace, or else die for it.’ 
 The king tarried still, as was devised ; and George Douglas with 
 
NOTES. 
 
 109 
 
 him, and sundry other lords, such as the Earl of Lennox and the 
 Lord Erskine, and some of the king’s own servants ; hut all the 
 lave (rest) past with the Earl of Angus to the field against the laird 
 of Buccleugh, who joyned and countered cruelly both the said 
 parties in the field of Darnelinver*, either against other, with un- 
 certain victory. But at the last, the Lord Hume, hearing word of 
 that matter how it stood, returned again to the king in all possible 
 haste, with him the lairds of Cessfoord and Fairnyliirst, to the 
 number of fourscore spears, and set freshly on the lap and wing of 
 the laird of Buccleuch’s field, and shortly bare them backward to 
 the ground; which caused the laird of Buccleuch, and the rest of 
 his friends, to go back and flee, whom they followed and chased ; 
 and especially the lairds of Cessfoord aud Fairnyhirst followed 
 furiouslie, till at the foot of a path the laird of Cessfoord was slain 
 by the stroke of a spear by an Elliot, who was then servant to the 
 laird of Buccleuch. But when the laird of Cessfoord was slain, the 
 chase ceased. The Earl of Angus returned again with great merri- 
 ness and victory, and thanked God that he saved him from that 
 chance, and passed with the king to Melross, where they remained 
 all that night. On the morn, they passed to Edinburgh with the 
 king, who was very sad and dolorous of the slaughter of the laird 
 of Cessfoord, and many other gentlemen and yeomen slain by the 
 laird of Buccleuch, containing the number of fourscore and fifteen, 
 which died in defence of the king, and at the command of his 
 writing.” 
 
 I am not the first who has attempted to celebrate in verse the 
 renown of this ancient baron, and his hazardous attempt to pro- 
 cure his sovereign’s freedom. In a Scottish Latin poet we findt he 
 following verses : — 
 
 Valterius Scotus Balcluchius. 
 
 Egregio suscepto facinore libertate Regis, ac aliis rebus gestis clarus, 
 sub Jacobo Y. A°. Christi, 1526. 
 
 Intentata aliis, nullique audita priorum 
 
 Audet, nec pavidum morsve, metusve quatit, 
 Libertatem aliis soliti transcribere Reges ; 
 
 Subreptam hanc Regi restituisse paras, 
 
 Si vincis, quanta o succedunt praemia dextrae, 
 
 Sin victus, falsas spes jace, pone animam. 
 
 Hostica vis nocuit : stant altae robora mentis 
 Atque decus. Vincet, Rege probante, fides. 
 
 Insita queis animis virtus, quosque acrior ardor 
 Obsidet, obscuris nox premat an tenebris ? 
 
 Heroes ex omni Historia Scoticae lectissimi, Auctore Johan. 
 Jonstonio Abredonense Scoto, 1603. 
 
 In consequence of the battle of Melrose, there ensued a deadly 
 feud betwixt the names of Scott and Kerr, which, in spite of all 
 
 * Darnwiek, near Melrose. The place of conflict is still* called Skinner’s 
 Field, from a corruption of Skirmish Field. 
 
110 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 means used to bring about an agreement, raged for many years 
 upon the Borders. Buccleuch was imprisoned, and his estates for- 
 feited, in the year 1535, for levying war against the Kerrs, and 
 restored by act of Parliament, dated 15th March, 1542, during the 
 regency of Mary of Lorraine. But the most signal act of violence 
 to which this quarrel gave rise, was the murder of Sir Walter him- 
 self, who was slain by the Kerrs in the streets of Edinburgh, in 
 1552. This is the event alluded to in Stanza VII. ; and the poem is 
 supposed to open shortly after it had taken place. 
 
 The feud between these two families was not reconciled in 1596, 
 when both chieftains paraded the streets of Edinburgh with their 
 followers, and it was expected their first meeting would decide their 
 quarrel. But, on July 14th of the same year, Colvil, in a letter to 
 Mr. Bacon, informs him, “ That there was great trouble upon the 
 Borders, which would continue till order should be taken by the 
 queen of England and the king, by reason of the two young Scots 
 chieftains, Cesford and Baclugh, and of the present necessity and 
 scarcity of corn amongst the Scots Borderers and riders. That 
 there had been a private quarrel betwixt those two lairds, on the 
 Borders, which was like to have turned to blood ; but the fear of 
 the general trouble had reconciled them, and the injuries which 
 they thought to have committed against each other were now trans- 
 ferred upon England ; not unlike that emulation in France between 
 the Baron de Biron and Mons. Jeverie, who. being both ambitious 
 of honour, undertook more hazardous enterprises against the enemy 
 than they would have done if they had been at concord together.” — 
 Birch’s Memorials, Vol. II. p. 67. 
 
 P. 7, 1. 18. 
 
 No ! vainly to each holy shrine, 
 
 In mutual pilgrimage, they drew ; 
 
 Among other expedients resorted to for staunching the feud 
 betwixt the Scotts and Kerrs, there was a bond executed, in 1529, 
 between the heads of each clan, binding themselves to perform 
 reciprocally the four principal pilgrimages of Scotland, for the 
 benefit of the souls of those of the opposite name who had fallen in 
 the quarrel. This indenture is printed in the Minstrelsy of the 
 Scottish Border, Vol. I. But either it never took effect, or else the 
 feud was renewed shortly afterwards. 
 
 My friend Mr. Thomas Thomson, deputy -register of Scotland, has 
 enabled me to add to this note the following curious document, 
 extracted from the records of the Scottish privy -council, concerning 
 the reconcilement of a feud between the powerful families of Bruce 
 and of Monteitli, upon terms similar to those stipulated in the 
 indenture between the Scotts and Kerrs : — 
 
 “ At Edinburgh, the xviij day of October, the zere of God 1490 
 zeris, in presens of the Lordis of our Souerane Lordis Consale under- 
 writtin ; that is to say, Reverend Faideris in God, Robert, Bischop 
 of Glasgw; William, Bischop of Abirden; ane venerable Faider, 
 
NOTES. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Jolme, Prior of Sanctandros. Prive Sele ; and Maister Alexander 
 Inglis, Archidene of Sanctandros ; Noble and Michty Lordis, Pat- 
 rick, Erie Botliuile, and Lord Halis; William, Lord of Sanct Johnis, 
 gret Maister of Househald to our Soverane Lord ; and Robert, Lord 
 Lile, It is appointit, aggreit, concordit, and finaly endit, betuix 
 William of Menteth of the Carse, Knycht, Archibald of Menteth, 
 and Alexander of Menteth, his brother, with vtheris thair kyn and 
 friendis, one the taparte, and Robert Broiss of Arth Schir, Alexan- 
 der Broiss, and louk the Broiss, his emmis, and vtheris thair kyn 
 and frendis, one the tother parte, anent the ded and slauchter of 
 vmquhile Johne the Broiss, faider to the said Robert, and for 
 amendis, kynbute, and frendschip to be, and stand betuix the saidis 
 partiis in tymetocum, in manner as folowis ; In the first, the said 
 Archibald Mentethe, and sa mony personis as ar now one lif, and 
 present in this toune, that were committaris of the said slauchter, 
 sail, upon Twisday the xx day of the said moneth now instant, cum 
 to the merkat-cross of Edinburglie, in thair lynyng claithis, with 
 ber swerdis in thair handis, and ask the said Robert and his frendis 
 forgevance of the deth of the said Johne, as the manner is vsit 
 therof ; and to remitt to thaim the rancour of thair hartis ; and 
 sail, for the saule of the said Johne, seik, or ger seik, the four hede 
 pilgrimage of Scotland, and thare say mess for the saule ; and for- 
 ther, the said Robert the Broiss sail, within xx dais nixt tocum, 
 enter ane prest to signe in the kirk of Arth, for the space of twa 
 yeris ; the said Robert payand the tahalf of his fee, and the said 
 Arcbibalde of Menteth the tother half. The quhilkis twa zeris 
 beand past, the said Robert sail ger ane prest signe in the sammyn 
 kirk for the said saule.” 
 
 Such pactions were not uncommon in feudal times ; and, as might 
 be expected, they were often, as in the present case, void of the 
 effect desired. When Sir Walter Mauny, the renowned follower of 
 Edward III., had taken the town of Ryoll, in Gascony, he remem- 
 bered to have heard that his father lay there buried, and offered a 
 hundred crowns to any who could show him his grave. A very old 
 man appeared before Sir Walter, and informed him of the manner 
 of his father’s death, and the place of his sepulture. It seems the 
 Lord of Mauny had, at a great tournament, unhorsed, and wounded 
 to the death a Gascon knight, of the house of Mirepoix, whose 
 kinsman was bishop of Cambray. For this deed he was held at 
 feud by the relations of the knight, until he agreed to undertake a 
 pilgrimage to the shrine of St. James of Compostella, for the benefit 
 of the soul of the deceased. But as he returned through the town 
 of Ryoll, after accomplishment of his vow, he was beset, and 
 treacherously slain, by the kindred of the knight w'liom he had 
 killed. Sir Walter, guided by the old man, visited the lowly tomb 
 of his father ; and, having read the inscription, which was in Latin, 
 he caused the body to be raised, and transported to his native city 
 of Valenciennes, where masses w'ere, in the days of Froissart, duly 
 said for the soul of the unfortunate pilgrim . — Chronycle of Frois- 
 sart, Vol I., p. 123. 
 
112 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 P. 7, 1. 22. 
 
 While Cessford owns the rule of Car, 
 
 The family of Ker, Kerr, or Car*, was very powerful on the 
 Border. Fynes Morrison remarks, in his Travels, that their influ- 
 ence extended from the village of Preston-Grange, in Lothian, to 
 the limits of England. Cessford Castle, the ancient baronial 
 residence of the family, is situated near the village of Morebattle, 
 
 within two or three miles of the Cheviot Hills It has been a place 
 
 of great strength and consequence, but is now ruinous. Tradition 
 affirms, that^it was founded by Halbert, or Habby Kerr, a gigantic 
 warrior, concerning whom many stories are current in Roxburgh- 
 shire. The Duke of Roxburgh represents Ker of Cessford. A 
 distinct and powerful branch of the same name own the Marquis 
 of Lothian as their chief ; hence the distinction between Kers of 
 Cessford and Fairnihirst. 
 
 P. 8, 1. 28. 
 
 Before Lord Cranstoun she should wed , 
 
 The Cranstouns, Lord Cranstoun, are an ancient Border family, 
 whose chief seat was at Crailing, in Teviotdale. They were at this 
 time at feud with the clan of Scott ; for it appears that the lady of 
 Buccleuck, in 1557, beset the laird of Cranstoun, seeking his life. 
 Nevertheless, the same Cranstoun, or perhaps his son, was married 
 to a daughter of the same lady. 
 
 P. 8, 1. 32. 
 
 OfBethune's line of Bicardie : 
 
 TheBethunes were of French origin, and derived their name from 
 a small town in Artois. There were several distinguished families 
 of Bethunes in the neighbouring province of Picardy; they num- 
 bered among their descendants the celebrated Due de Sully ; and 
 the name was accounted among the most noble in France, Avhile 
 aught noble remained in that country. The family of Bethune, or 
 Beatoun, in Fife, produced three learned and dignified prelates ; 
 namely, Cardinal Beaton, and two successive archbishops of Glas- 
 gow, all of whom flourished about the date of the romance. Of this 
 family was descended Dame Janet Beaton, Lady Buccleuch, widow 
 of Sir Walter Scott, of Branksome. She was a woman of masculine 
 spirit, as appeared from her riding at the head of her son’s clan, 
 after her husband's murder. She also possessed the hereditary 
 abilities of her family in such a degree, that the superstition of the 
 vulgar imputed them to supernatural knowledge. With this was 
 mingled, by faction, the foul accusation of her having influenced 
 
 * The name is spelled differently by the various families who hear it. Car is 
 selected, not as the most correct, but as the most poetical reading. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 113 
 
 Queen Mary to the murder of her husband. One of the placards, 
 preserved in Buchanan’s Detection, accuses of Darnley’s murder 
 “ the Erie Both well, Mr. James Balfour, the persoun of Fliske Mr. 
 David Chalmers, black Mr. John Spens, who was principal deviser 
 of the murder ; and the Quene, assenting thairto throw the per- 
 suasion of the Erie Botliwell, and the witchcraft of Lady Buck- 
 leuch.” 
 
 P. 9, 1. 1. 
 
 He learned the art , that none may name , 
 
 In Padua, far beyond the sea. 
 
 Padua was long supposed, by the Scottish peasants, to be the 
 principal school of Necromancy. The Earl of Gowrie, slain at 
 Perth in 1600, pretended, during his studies in Italy, to have 
 acquired some knowledge of the cabala, by which he said he could 
 charm snakes, and work other miracles, and, in particular, could 
 produce children without the intercourse of the sexes. — See the 
 examination of Wemyss of Bogie before the Privy Council, con- 
 cerning Cowrie’s «onspiracy. 
 
 P. 9, 1. 7. 
 
 His form no darkening shadow traced 
 Upon the sunny wall ! 
 
 The shadow of a necromancer is independent of the sun. — Glycas 
 informs us that Simon Magus caused his shadow to go before him, 
 making people believe it was an attendant spirit. — Heywood’s 
 Hier archie, p. 475. The vulgar conceive, that when a class of 
 students have made a certain progress in their mystic studies, they 
 are obliged to run through a subterraneous hall, where the devil 
 literally catches the hindmost in the race, unless he crosses the 
 hall so speedily, that the arch-enemy can only apprehend his 
 shadow. In the latter case, the person of the sage never after 
 throws any shade ; and those who have thus lost their shadow 
 always prove the best magicians. 
 
 P. 9, 1. 12. 
 
 The viewless forms of air. 
 
 The Scottish vulgar, without having any very defined notion of 
 their attributes, believe in the existence of an intermediate class of 
 spirits, residing in the air, or in the waters ; to whose agency they 
 ascribe floods, storms, and all such phenomena as their own philo- 
 sophy cannot readily explain. They are supposed to interfere in 
 the affairs of mortals, sometimes with a malevolent purpose, and 
 sometimes with milder views. It is said, for example, that a 
 gallant Baron, having returned from the Holy Land to his castle 
 of Drummelziar, found his fair lady nursing a healthy child, whose 
 birth did not by any means correspond to the date of his departure. 
 Such an occurrence, to the credit of the dames of the crusaders, be 
 I 
 
114 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 it spoken, was so rare, that it required p a miraculous solution. The 
 lady, therefore, was believed, when she averred confidently, that 
 the Spirit of the Tweed had issued from the river while she was 
 walking upon its bank, and compelled her to submit to his embraces ; 
 and the name of Tweedie was bestowed upon the child, who after- 
 wards became Baron of Drummelziar, and chief of a powerful clan. 
 To those Spirits were also ascribed, in Scotland, the 
 
 — “ Airy tongues, that syllable men’s names, 
 
 On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses ” 
 
 When the workmen were engaged in erecting the ancient church 
 of Old Deer, in Aberdeenshire, upon a small hill called Bissau, they 
 were surprised to find that the work was impeded by supernatural 
 obstacles. At length the Spirit of the River was heard to say : 
 
 It is not here, it is not here, 
 
 That ye shall build the church of Deer ; 
 
 But on Taptillery, 
 
 Where many a corpse shall lie. 
 
 The site of the edifice was accordingly transferred to Taptillery, an 
 eminence at some distance from the place where the building had 
 been commenced.— Macfarlane's MSS. I mention these popular 
 fables, because the introduction of the River and Mountain Spirits 
 may not, at first sight, seem to accord with the general tone of the 
 romance, and the superstitions of the country where the scene is 
 laid. 
 
 P. 11, 1. 28. 
 
 A fancied moss-trooper , SfC. 
 
 This was the usual appellation of the marauders upon the 
 Borders ; a profession diligently pursued by the inhabitants on both 
 sides, and by none more actively and successfully than by Buc- 
 cleuch’s clan. Long after the union of the crowns,' the moss- 
 troopers, although sunk in reputation, and no longer enjoying the 
 pretext of national hostility, continued to pursue their calling. 
 
 Fuller includes, among the wonders of Cumberland, “ The Moss- 
 troopers, so strange is the condition of their living, if considered in 
 their Original, Increase , Height , Decay , and Ruine. 
 
 1. “ Original . I conceive them the same called Borderers in Mr. 
 Cambden, and characterized by him to be, a wild and warlike 
 people. They are called Moss-troopers, because dwelling in the 
 mosses, and riding in troops together. They dwell in the bounds, 
 or meeting, of the two kingdoms, but obey the laws of neither. 
 They come to church as seldom as the 29th of February comes into 
 the kalendar, 
 
 2. “ Increase. When England and Scotland were united in Great 
 Britain, they that formerly lived by hostile incursions betook 
 themselves to the robbing of their neighbours. Their sons are free 
 of the trade by their fathers’ copy. They are like to Job, not in 
 
NOTES. 
 
 115 
 
 piety and patience, but in sudden plenty and poverty ; sometimes 
 having flocks and herds in the morning, none at night, and per- 
 chance many again next day. They may give for their motto, 
 vivitur ex rapto, stealing from their honest neighbours what they 
 sometimes require. They are a nest of hornets : strike one, and 
 stir all of them about your ears. Indeed, if they promise safely to 
 conduct a traveller, they will perform it with the fidelity of a 
 Turkish janizary ; otherwise, woe be to him that falleth into their 
 quarters ! 
 
 3. “ Height . Amounting, forty years since, to some thousands. 
 These compelled the vicinage to purchase their security, by paying 
 a constant rent to them. When in their greatest height, they had 
 two great enemies, — the laws of the Land , and the Lord William 
 Howard of Naworth. He sent many of them to Carlisle, to that 
 place where the officer doth always his work by day-light. Yet 
 these Moss-troopers, if possibly they could procure the pardon for 
 a condemned person of their company, would advance great sums 
 out of their common stock, who, in such a case, cast in their lots 
 amongst themselves ; and all have one purse. 
 
 4. “ Decay. Caused by the wisdom, valour, and diligence of the 
 Right Honourable Charles Lord Howard, Earl of Carlisle, who 
 routed these English tories with his regiment. His severity unto 
 them will not only be excused, but commended, by the judicious, 
 who consider how our great lawyer doth describe such persons-who 
 are solemnly outlawed. Bracton, lib. 8. trac. 2. cap. 11. — ‘ Ex 
 tunc gerunt caput lupinum , ita quod sine judiciali inquisitione rite 
 pereant, et secum suum judicium portent ; et meritosine lege per eunt, 
 qui secundum legem vivere recusarunt.' — ‘ Thenceforward (after 
 that they are outlawed) they wear a wolfs head, so that they law- 
 fully may be destroyed, without any judicial inquisition, as who 
 carry their own condemnation about them, and deservedly die 
 without law, because they refused to live according to law.* 
 
 5. “ Ruine. Such was the success of this worthy lord’s severity, 
 that he made a thorough reformation among them ; and the ring- 
 leaders being destroyed, the rest are reduced to legal obedience, 
 and so, I trust, will continue.” Fuller’s Worthies of England, 
 
 p. 216. 
 
 The last public mention of moss-troopers occurs during the civil 
 wars of the 17th century, when many ordinances of parliament 
 were directed against them. 
 
 P. 12, 1. 6. 
 
 How the brave boy, in future war. 
 
 Should tame the Unicorn's pride , 
 
 Exalt the Crescents and the Star. 
 
 The arms of the Kerrs of Cessford were Vert on a cheveron, 
 betwixt three unicorns’ heads erased argent, three mullets sable ; 
 crest, an unicorn’s head erased proper. The Scotts of Buccleuch 
 bore, Or on a bend azure ; a star of six points betwixt two crescents 
 of the first. 
 
110 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 P.12 , 1. 14. 
 
 William of Deloraine. 
 
 The lands of Deloraine are joined to those of Buccleuch in Ettrick 
 Forest. They were immemorially possessed by the Buccleuch family, 
 under the strong title of occupancy, although no charter was obtained 
 from the crown until 1545. — Like other possessions, the lands of 
 Deloraine were occasionally granted by them to vassals, or kinsmen, 
 for Border-service. Satchells mentions, among the twenty-four 
 gentlemen pensioners of the family, “ William Scott, commonly 
 called Cut-at-the-Black , who had the lands of Nether Deloraine for 
 his service.” And again, “ This William _of Deloraine, commonly 
 called Cut-at-the-Black , was a brother of the ancient house of 
 Haining, which house of Haining is descended from the ancient 
 house of Hassendean.” The lands of Deloraine now give an earl’s 
 title to the descendant of Henry, the second surviving son of the 
 Duchess of Buccleuch and Monmouth. I have endeavoured to give 
 William of Deloraine the attributes which characterised the Bor- 
 derers of his day ; for which I can only plead Froissart’s apology, 
 that “ it behoveth, in a lynage, some to be folyshe and outrageous, 
 to mayntayne and sustayne the peasable.” As a contrast to my 
 Marcliman, I beg leave to transcribe, from the same author, the 
 speech of Amergott Marcell, a captain of the Adventurous Compa- 
 nions, a robber, and a pillager of the country of Auvergne, who had 
 been bribed to sell his strong-holds, and to assume a more honourable 
 military life, under the banners of the Earl of Armagnac. But 
 “ when he remembered alle this, he was sorrowful ; his tresour he 
 thought he wolde not mynysshe. He was wonte dayly to serche for 
 newe pyllages, wherbye encresed his profyte, and then he sawe that 
 alle was closed fro’hym. Then he sayde and imagyned, that to'pyll 
 and to robbe (all thynge considered) was a good lyfe, and so repented 
 hym of his good doing. On a tyme, he said to his old companyons, 
 
 ‘ Sirs, there is no sporte nor glory in this worlde amonge men of 
 warre, but to use suche lyfe as we have done in tyme past. What 
 a joy was it to us when we rode forth at adventure, and some tyme 
 found by the way a riche priour or merchaunt, or a route of mulettes 
 of Mountpellyer, of Narbonne, of Lymens, of Fongans, of Besyers, 
 of Tholous, or of Carcassone, laden with cloth of Brussels, or peltre 
 ware comynge fro the fayres, or laden with spycery fro Bruges, fro 
 Damas, or fro Alysaundre : whatsoever we met, alle was ours, or els 
 ransoumed at our pleasures : dayly we gate newe money ; and the 
 vyllaynes of Auvergne and of Lymosyn dayly provyded and brought 
 to our castell wliete mele, good wynes, beffes, and fatte mottons, 
 pullayne and wylde fowle: We were ever furnyshed as tho we had 
 been kings. When we rode forthe, all the countrey trymbled for 
 feare : all was ours goying and comynge. Howe tok we Carlast, I 
 and the Bourge of Compayne ; and I and Perot of Bernoys took 
 Caluset : how dyd we scale, with lytell ayde, the strong castell of 
 Marquell, pertayning to the Erl Dolphyn ; I kept it nat past fyve 
 days, but I receyved for it, on a feyre table, fyve thousande frankes, 
 
NOTES. 
 
 117 
 
 and forgave onethousande, for the love of the Erl Dolphyn’s children. 
 By my fayth, this was a fayre and a good lyfe ; wherefore I repute 
 myselve sore deceyved, in that I have rendered up the fortres of 
 Aloys ; for it wolde have kept fro all the worlde ; and the daye that 
 I gave it up, it was fournyshed with vytaylles, to have been kept 
 seven yere without any re-vytaylynge. This Erl of Armynake hath 
 deceyved me. Olyve Barbe, and Perot le Bernoys, showed to me 
 how I shulde repente myselfe : certayne I sore repente myselfe of 
 what I have done.’ ” — Froissart, Yol. II. p. 195. 
 
 P. 12, 1. 19. 
 
 By wily turns, by desperate bounds , 
 
 Had baffled Percy's best blood-hounds ; 
 
 The kings and heroes of Scotland, as well as the Border-riders, 
 were sometimes obliged to study how to evade the pursuit of blood- 
 hounds. Barbour informs us, that Robert Bruce was repeatedly 
 tracked by sleuth-dogs. On one occasion, he escaped by wading a 
 bow-shot down a brook, and ascending into a tree, by a branch 
 which overhung the water : thus leaving no trace on land of his 
 footsteps he baffled the scent. The pursuers came up : 
 
 Rycht to the burn thai passyt ware, 
 
 Bot the sleuth-hund made stinting thar, 
 
 And waueryt lang tyme ta and fra, 
 
 That he na certain gate couth ga ; 
 
 Till at the last that Jhon of Lorn, 
 
 Perseuvit the hund the sleuth had lorne. 
 
 The Bruce , Book vii. 
 
 A sure way of stopping the dog was to spill blood upon the track, 
 which destroyed the discriminating fineness of his scent. A captive 
 was sometimes sacrificed on such occasions. Henry the Minstrel 
 tells a romantic story of Wallace, founded on this circumstance : — 
 The hero’s little band had been joined by an Irishman, named 
 Fawdon, or Fadzean, a dark savage, and suspicious character. 
 After a sharp skirmish at Black-Erne Side, Wallace was forced to 
 retreat with only sixteen followers. The English pursued with a 
 border sleuth-bratch, or blood-hound : 
 
 In Gelderland there was that bratchet bred, 
 
 Siker of scent, to follow them that fled ; 
 
 So was he used in Eske and Liddesdail, 
 
 While (i. e. till ) she gat blood no fleeing might avail. 
 
 In the retreat, Fawdon, tired, or affecting to be so, would go no 
 farther : Wallace, having in vain argued with him, in hasty anger 
 struck off his head, and continued the retreat. When the English 
 came up, their hound stayed upon the dead body : — 
 
 The sleuth stopped at Fawdon, till she stood, 
 
 Nor farther would, fra time she fund the blood. 
 
118 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 The story concludes with a fine Gothic scene of terror. Wallace 
 took refuge in the solitary tower of Gask. Here he was disturbed 
 at midnight by the blast of a horn : hie sent out his attendants by 
 two and two, but no one returned with tidings. At length, when 
 he was left alone, the sound was heard still louder. The champion 
 descended, sword in hand, and, at the gate of the tower, was en- 
 countered by the headless spectre of Fawdon, whom he had slain 
 so rashly. Wallace in great terror fled up into the tower, tore open 
 the boards of a window, leapt down fifteen feet in height, and con- 
 tinued his flight up the river. Looking back to Gask, he discovered 
 the tower on fire, and the form of Fawdon upon the battlements, 
 dilated to immense size, and holding in his hand a blazing rafter. 
 The Minstrel concludes, — 
 
 Trust ryght wele, that all this be sooth, indeed, 
 
 Supposing it be no point of the creed. 
 
 The Wallace, Book v. 
 
 Mr. Ellis has extracted this tale as a sample of Henry’s poetry. — 
 Specimens of English Poetry, Yol. I. p. 351. 
 
 P. 14, 1. 9. 
 
 J>imly he viewed the Moat-hilVs mound, 
 
 This is a round artificial mount near Hawick, which, from its 
 name, mot Ang. Sax . Concilium Conventus,) was probably 
 anciently used as a place for assembling a national council of the 
 adjacent tribes. There are many such mounds in Scotland, and 
 they are sometimes, but rarely, of a square form. 
 
 P. 14, 1. 14. 
 
 Beneath the tower of Hazeldean. 
 
 The estate of Hazeldean, corruptly Hassendean, belonged for- 
 merly to a family of Scotts, thus commemorated by Satchells : — 
 
 Hassendean came without a call, 
 
 The ancientest house among them all. 
 
 P. 15, 1. 1. 
 
 On Minto-crags the moon-beams glint , 
 
 A romantic assemblage of cliffs, which rise suddenly above the 
 vale of Teviot, in the immediate vicinity of the family-seat, from 
 which Lord Minto takes his title. A small platform, on a project- 
 ing crag, commanding a most beautiful prospect, is termed Barn- 
 hills' Bed. This Barnhills is said to have been a robber or outlaw. 
 There are remains of a strong tower beneath the rocks, where he is 
 supposed to have dwelt, and from which he derived his name. On 
 
NOTES, 
 
 119 
 
 the submit of the crags are the fragments of another ancient tower, 
 in a picturesque situation. Among the houses cast down by the 
 Earl of Hartforde, in 1545, occur the towers of Easter Barnhills, and 
 of Minto crag, with Minto town and place. Sir Gilbert Elliot, 
 father to the present Lord Minto, was the author of a beautiful 
 pastoral song, of which the following is a more correct copy than is 
 usually published. The poetical mantle of Sir Gilbert Elliot has 
 descended to his family. 
 
 My sheep I neglected, I broke my sheep-hook, 
 
 And all the gay haunts of my youth I forsook : 
 
 No more for Amynta fresh garlands I wove ; 
 
 Ambition, I said, would soon cure me of love. 
 
 But what had my youth with ambition to do ? 
 
 Why left I Amynta ? Why broke I my vow ? 
 
 Through regions remote in vain do I rove. 
 
 And bid the wide world secure me from love. 
 
 Ah, fool, to imagine, that aught could subdue 
 
 A love so well founded, a passion so true ! 
 
 Ah, give me my sheep, and my sheep-hook restore, 
 
 And I’ll wander from love and Amynta no more ! 
 
 Alas ! ’tis too late at thy fate to repine ! 
 
 Poor shepherd, Amynta no more can be thine ! 
 
 Thy tears are all fruitless, thy wishes are vain, 
 
 The moments neglected return not again. 
 
 Ah ! what had my youth with ambition to do ? 
 
 Why left I Amynta ? Why broke I my vow ? 
 
 P. 15, 1. 14. 
 
 To ancient Riddel’s fair domain , 
 
 The family of Riddel have been very long in possession of the 
 barony called Riddell, or Ryedale, part of which still bears the 
 latter name. Tradition carries their antiquity to a point extremely 
 remote ; and is, in some degree, sanctioned by the discovery of two 
 stone coffins, one containing an earthen pot filled with ashes and 
 arms, bearing a legible date, A. D. 727 ; the other dated 936, and 
 filled with the bones of a man of gigantic size. These coffins were 
 discovered in the foundations of what was, but has long ceased to 
 be, the chapel of Riddell ; and as it was argued, with plausibility, 
 that they contained the remains of some ancestors of the family, 
 they were deposited in the modern place of sepulchre, comparatively 
 so termed, though built in 1110. But the following curious and 
 authentic documents warrant most exclusively the epithet of 
 ancient Riddell: 1st, A charter by David I. to Walter Rydale, 
 sheriff of Roxburgh, confirming all the estates of Liliesclive, &c., 
 of which his father, Gervasius de Rydale, died possessed. — 2ndly, A 
 bull of Pope Adrian IV., confirming the will of Walter de Ridale, 
 
120 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 knight, in favour of his brother Anschittil de Ridale, dated 8th 
 April, 1155. 3rdly, A bull of Pope Alexander III., confirming the 
 said will of Walter de Ridale, bequeathing to his brother Anschittil 
 the lands of Liliesclive, Whettunes, &c., and ratifying the bargain 
 betwixt Anschittil and Huctredus, concerning the church of Lilies- 
 clive, in consequence of the mediation of Malcolm II., and confirmed 
 by a charter from that monarch. This bull is dated 17th June, 
 1160. 4thly, A bull of the same Pope, confirming the will of Sir 
 Anschittil de Ridale, in favour of his son Walter, conveying the 
 said lands of Liliesclive and others, dated 10th March, 1120. It is 
 remarkable, that Liliesclive, otherwise Rydale, or Riddel, and the 
 Whettunes, have descended, through a long train of ancestors, with- 
 out ever passing into a collateral line, to the person of Sir John 
 Buchanan Riddell, Bart., of Riddell, the lineal descendant and 
 representative of Sir Anschittil. — These circumstances appeared 
 worthy of notice in a Border work. 
 
 P. 16, 1. 3. 
 
 As glanced his eye o'er Halidon ; 
 
 Halidon was an ancient seat of the Kerrs of Cessford, now de- 
 molished. About a quarter of a mile to the northward lay the field 
 of battle betwixt Buccleuch and Angus, which is called to this day 
 the Skirmish Field. See the 5th note on this Canto. 
 
 P. 16, 1. 16. 
 
 Old Metros' 7'ose, and fair Tweed ran : 
 
 The ancient and beautiful monastery of Melrose was founded by 
 King David L Its ruins afford the finest specimen of Gothic archi- 
 tecture, and Gothic sculpture, which Scotland can boast. The 
 stone, of which it is built, though it has resisted the weather for so 
 many ages, retains perfect sharpness, so that even the most minute 
 ornaments seem as entire as when newly wrought. In some of the 
 cloisters, as is hinted in the next Canto, there are representations 
 Of flowers, vegetables, &c. carved in stone, with accuracy and pre- 
 cision so delicate, that we almost distrust our senses, when we con- 
 sider the difficulty of subjecting so hard a substance to such intri- 
 cate and exquisite modulation. This superb convent was dedicated 
 to St. Mary, and the monks were of the Cistertian order. At the 
 time of the Reformation, they shared in the general reproach of 
 sensuality and irregularity, thrown upon the Roman churchmen. 
 The old words of Galashiels , a favourite Scottish air, ran thus : 
 
 O the monks of Melrose made gude kale * 
 
 On Fridays when they fasted ; 
 
 They wanted neither beef nor ale, 
 
 As long as their neighbours’ lasted. 
 
 * Kale, broth. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 121 
 
 P. 18, 1. 11. 
 
 When silver edges the imagery, 
 
 And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die ; 
 
 ' The buttresses ranged along the side of the ruins of Melrose 
 Abbey, are, according to the Gothic style, richly carved and fretted, 
 containing niches for the statues of saints, and labelled with 
 scrolls, bearing appropriate texts of Scripture. Most of these sta- 
 tues have been demolished. 
 
 P. 18, 1. 16. 
 
 St. David's ruined pile; 
 
 David I. of Scotland purchased the reputation of sanctity, by 
 founding, and liberally endowing, not only the monastery of Mel- 
 rose, but those of Kelso, Jedburgh, and many others, which led to 
 the well-known observation of his successors, that he was a sore 
 saint for the crown. 
 
 P. 19, 1. 7. 
 
 And lands and livings, many a rood, 
 
 Had gifted the shrine for their souls' repose. 
 
 The Buccleuch family were great benefactors to the abbey of 
 Melrose. As early as the reign of Robert II. Robert Scott, baron of 
 Murdieston and Rankelburn (now Buccleuch), gave to the monks 
 the lands of Hinkery, in Ettrick Forest, pro salute animce suce . — 
 Chartulary of Melrose, 28th May, 1415. 
 
 P. 20, 1. 12. 
 
 Prayer know I hardly one; 
 
 * * * 
 
 Save to patter an Ave-Mary, 
 
 When I ride on a Border foray : 
 
 The Borderers were, as may be supposed, very ignorant about 
 religious matters. Colville, in his Paranesis , or Admonition, 
 states, that the reformed divines were so far from undertaking 
 distant journeys to convert the heathen, “ as I wold wis at God that 
 ye wold only go bot to the Hielands and Borders of our own realm, 
 to gain our awin countreymen, who, for lack of preching and 
 ministration of the sacraments, must, with tyme, becum either 
 infidells or atheists.” But w r e learn, from Lesly, that, however 
 deficient in religion, they regularly told their beads, and never with 
 more zeal than when going on a plundering expedition. 
 
 P. 20, 1. 27. 
 
 And beneath their feet were the bones of the dead. 
 
 The cloisters were frequently used as places of sepulture. An 
 instance occurs in Dryburgh Abbey, where the cloister has an 
 inscription, bearing, Hie jaeet frater Archibaldus. 
 
122 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 P. 21, 1. 5. 
 
 So had he seen, in fair Castile, 
 
 The youth in glittering squadrons start , 
 
 Sudden the flying jennet wheel , 
 
 And hurl the unexpected dart. 
 
 “By my faitli,” sayd the Duke of Lancaster, (to a Portuguese 
 squire,) “of all the feates of armes that the Castellyans, and they 
 of your countrey doth use, the castynge of their dartes best pleaseth 
 me, and gladly I wolde see it ; for as I hear say, if they strike one 
 aryght, without he be well armed, the dart will pierce him thrughe.” 
 — “ By my fayth, Sir,” sayd the squyer, “ ye say trouth ; for I have 
 seen many a grete stroke given with them, which at one time cost 
 us derely, and was to us great displeasure ; for at the said skyr- 
 mishe, Sir John Laurence, of Coygne, was striken with a dart in 
 such wise, that the head perced all the plates of his cote of mayle, 
 and a sacke stopped with sylke, and passed thrughe his body, so 
 that he fell down dead.” Froissart, Yol. II., ch. 44. — This mode of 
 fighting with darts w r as imitated in the military game called Juego 
 de las canas , which the Spaniards borrowed from their Moorish 
 invaders. A Saracen champion is thus described by Froissart: 
 “ Among the Sarazyns, there was a yonge knight called Agadinger 
 Dolyfeme ; he was always wel mounted on a redy and lyght horse ; 
 it seemed, when the horse ranne, that he did fly in the ayre. The 
 knighte seemed to be a good man of armes by his dedes ; he bare 
 always of usage three fethered dartes, and rychte well he coulde 
 handle them ; and, according to their custome, he was clene armed, 
 with a long white towell aboute his heed. His apparell w r as blacke, 
 and his own colour browne, and a good horseman. The Crysten 
 men say, they thoughte he dyd such deeds of armes for the love of 
 some yonge ladye of his countrey. And true it was, that he loved 
 entirely the king of Thunes’ daughter, named the lady Azala ; she 
 was inherytour to the realme of Thunes, after the discease of the 
 kyng, her father. This Agadinger was sone to the Duke of Olyferne. 
 I can nat telle if they were married together after or nat ; but it 
 w r as shewed me that this knyght, for love of the sayd ladye, during 
 the siege, did many feats of armes. The knyghtes of Fraunce wold 
 fayne have taken hym ; but they colde never attrape nor inclose 
 him, his horse was so swyft, and so redy to his hand, that alwaies 
 he escaped.”— Yol. II., ch. 71* 
 
 P. 21, 1. 25. 
 
 Before thy low and lonely urn , 
 
 0 gallant chief of Otterburne ! 
 
 The famous and desperate battle of Otterburne was fought loth 
 August, 1388, betwixt Henry Percy, called Hotspur, and James, 
 Earl of Douglas. Both these renowned champions were at the head 
 of a chosen body of troops, and they were rivals in military fame ; 
 
NOTES. 
 
 123 
 
 so that Froissart affirms, “ Of all the battaylles and encounteryngs 
 that I have made mencion of here before in all this hystory, great 
 or smalle, this batayle that I treat of nowe was one of the sorest 
 and best foughten, without cowardes or faynte hertes, for there was 
 neyther knyghte or squyer but that dyde his devoyre, and foughte 
 hande to hande. This batayle was lyke the batayle of Beeherell, 
 the which was valiauntly fought and endured.” The issue of the 
 conflict is well known : Percy was made prisoner, and the Scots 
 won the day, dearly purchased by the death of their gallant 
 general, the Earl of Douglas, who was slain in the action. He was 
 buried at Melrose, beneath the high altar. “ His obsequye was done 
 reverently, and on his bodye layde a tombe of stone, and his baner 
 hangyng over hym.”— Froissart, Yol. II,, p, 161. 
 
 P. 21, 1. 27. 
 
 dark knight of Liddesdale. 
 
 William Douglas, called the knight of Liddesdale, flourished 
 during the reign of David II., and was so distinguished by his 
 valour, that he was called the Flower of Chivalry. Nevertheless, 
 he tarnished his renown by the cruel murder of Sir Alexander 
 Ramsay, of Dalhousie, originally his friend and brother in arms. 
 The king had conferred upon Ramsay the sheriffdom of Teviotdale, 
 to which Douglas pretended some claim. In revenge of this pre- 
 ference, the knight of Liddesdale came down upon Ramsay, while 
 he was administering justice at Hawick, seized, and carried him 
 off to his remote and inaccessible castle of Hermitage, where he 
 threw his unfortunate prisoner, horse and man, into a dungeon, 
 and left him to perish of hunger. It is said the miserable captive 
 prolonged his existence for several days by the corn which fell from 
 a granary above the vault in which he was confined*. So weak was 
 the royal authority, that David, although highly incensed at this 
 atrocious murder, found himself obliged to appoint the knight of 
 Liddesdale successor to his victim, as sheriff of Teviotdale. But 
 he was soon after slain, while hunting in Ettrick Forest, by his own 
 godson and chieftain, William, Earl of Douglas, in revenge, accord- 
 
 * There is something affecting in the manner in which the old Prior of Loch- 
 leven turns from describing the death of the gallant Ramsay, to the general 
 sorrow which it excited ; 
 
 To tell you there of the manere. 
 
 It is hot sorow for til here ; 
 
 He wes the grettast menyd man 
 That ony cowth have thowcht of than. 
 
 Of his state, or of mare be fare ; 
 
 Allmenyt him, bath bettyr and war ; 
 
 The ryche and pure him menydebath. 
 
 For of his dede was mekil skath. 
 
 Some years ago, a person digging for stones about the old castle of Hermitage, 
 broke into a vault, containing a quantity of chaff, some bones, and pieces of 
 iron ; amongst others, the curb of„an ancient bridle, which the author has since 
 given to the Earl of Dalhousie, under the impression, that it possibly may be a 
 relique of his brave ancestor. The worthy clergyman of the parish has men- 
 tioned this discovery, in his statistical account of Castletown. 
 
124 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 ing to some authors, of Ramsay’s murder: although a popular 
 tradition, preserved in a ballad quoted by Godscroft, and some parts 
 of which are still preserved, ascribes the resentment of the Earl to 
 jealousy. The place where the knight of Liddesdale was killed, is 
 called, from his name, William-cross, upon the ridge of a hill called 
 William-hope, betwixt Tweed and Yarrow. His body, according 
 to Godscroft, was carried to Lindean church, the first night after 
 his death, and thence to Melrose, where he was interred with great 
 pomp, and where his tomb is still shewn. 
 
 P. 22, 1. 1. 
 
 The moon on the east oriel shone, 
 
 It is impossible to conceive a more beautiful specimen of the 
 lightness and elegance of Gothic architecture, when in its purity, 
 than the eastern window of Melrose Abbey. Sir James Hall of 
 Dunglas, Bart., has, with great ingenuity and plausibility, traced 
 the Gothic order through its various forms, and seemingly eccentric 
 ornaments, to an architectural imitation of wicker-work ; of which, 
 as we learn from some of the legends, the earliest Christian churches 
 were constructed. In such an edifice, the original of the clustered 
 pillars is traced to a set of round posts, begirt with slender rods of 
 willow, whose loose summits were brought to meet from all quar- 
 ters, and bound together artificially, so as to produce the frame- 
 work of the roof : and the tracery of our Gothic windows is dis- 
 played in the meeting and interlacing of rods and hoops, affording 
 an inexhaustible variety of beautiful forms of open work. This 
 ingenious system is alluded to in the romance. Sir James Hall’s 
 Essay on Gothic Architecture is published in The Edinburgh Phi- 
 losophical Transactions. 
 
 P. 22, 1. 17. 
 
 They sate them down on a marble stone , 
 
 A Scottish monarch slept below ; 
 
 A large marble stone, in the chancel of Melrose, is pointed out as 
 the monument of Alexander II., one of the greatest of v our early 
 kings ; others say, it is the resting place of Waldeve, one of the 
 early abbots, who died in the odour of sanctity. 
 
 P. 22, 1. 26. ' 
 
 the wond'rous Michael Scott; 
 
 Sir Michael Scott, of Balwearie, flourished during the thirteenth 
 century, and was one of the ambassadors sent to bring the Maid of 
 Norway to Scotland, upon the death of Alexander III. By a poet- 
 ical anachronism, he is here placed in a later aera. He was a man of 
 much learning, chiefly acquired in foreign countries. He wrote a 
 commentary upon Aristotle, printed at Venice, in 1496 ; and several 
 treatises upon natural philosophy, from which he appears to have 
 been addicted to the abstruse studies of judicial astrology, alchymy, 
 
NOTES. 
 
 125 
 
 physiognomy, and chiromancy. Hence he passed among his con- 
 temporaries for a skilful magician. Dempster informs us, that he 
 remembers to have heard in his youth, that the magic books of 
 Michael Scott were still in existence, but could not be opened 
 without danger, on account of the malignant fiends who were 
 thereby invoked. Dempsteri Ilistoria Ecclesiastica, 1627, lib. xii., 
 p. 495. Lesly characterises Michael Scott, as singularii philosophies , 
 astronomies , ac medicines laude prcestans ; dicebatur penitissimos 
 magics recessus indagasse.” Dante also mentions him as a renowned 
 wizard : 
 
 Quell altro chi ne’ fianchi e cosi poco 
 Michele Scoto fu, chi veramente 
 Delle magiche frode seppe il gioco. 
 
 Divina Commedia, Canto xxmo. 
 
 A personage, thus spoken of by biographers and historians, loses 
 little of his mystical fame in vulgar tradition. Accordingly, the 
 memory of Sir Michael Scott survives in many a legend ; and, in the 
 south of Scotland, any work of great labour and antiquity is 
 ascribed, either to the agency of Aiild Michael , of Sir William 
 Wallace, or of the devil. Tradition varies concerning the place of 
 his burial : some contend for Holme Coltrame, in Cumberland ; 
 others, for Melrose Abbey. But all agree, that his books of magic 
 w r ere interred in his grave, or preserved in the convent where he 
 died. Satchells, wishing to give some authority for his account of 
 the origin of the name of Scott, pretends, that, in 1629, he chanced 
 to be at Burgh under Bowness, in Cumberland, where a person, 
 named Lanceolot Scott, shewed him an extract from Michael Scott’s 
 works, containing that story : 
 
 “ He said the book which he gave me 
 Was of Sir Michael Scot’s histone ; 
 
 Which history was never yet read through, 
 
 Nor never will, for no man dare it do. 
 
 Young scholars have pick’d out something 
 From the contents, that dare not read within. 
 
 He carried me along the castle then. 
 
 And shew’d his written book hanging on an iron pin. 
 
 His writing pen did seem to me to be 
 Of hardened metal, like steel, or accumie ; 
 
 The volume of it did seem so large to me, 
 
 As the book of Martyrs and Turks historic. 
 
 Then in the church he let me see 
 A stone where Mr. Michael Scot did lie ; 
 
 I asked at him how that could appear, 
 
 Mr. Michael had been dead above five himdred year ? 
 
 He shew’d me none durst bury under that stone, 
 
 More than he had been dead a few years agone ; 
 
 For Mr. Michael’s name does terrifie each one.” 
 
 History of the Right Honourable Name of Scot. 
 
126 
 
 NOTES, 
 
 P.22, 1.28. 
 
 Salamanca's cave , 
 
 Spain, from the reliques, doubtless, of Arabian learning and 
 superstition, was accounted a favourite residence of magicians. 
 Pope Sylvester, who actually imported from Spain the use of the 
 Arabian numerals, was supposed to have learnt there the magic for 
 which he was stigmatised by the ignorance of his age. — William of 
 Malmsbury, lib. ii. cap. 10. There were public schools, where 
 magic, or rather the sciences supposed to involve its mysteries, were 
 regularly taught, at Toledo, Seville, and Salamanca. In the latter 
 city, they were held in a deep cavern, the mouth of which was 
 walled up by Queen Isabella, wife of King Ferdinand. — D’Autun 
 on Learned Incredulity , p. 45. These Spanish schools of magic are 
 celebrated also by the Italian poets of romance : 
 
 Questo citta di Tolletto solea 
 Tenere studio di Negromanzia, 
 
 Quivi di magica arte si leggea 
 Pubblicamente, e di Peromanzia ; 
 
 E molti Geomanti sempre avea 
 Esperimenti assai d’ Tetremanzia 
 E'd’ altre falsp opinion’ di sciocchi 
 Come e fatture, o spesso batter gli occhi. 
 
 II Morgante Maggiore , Canto XXV. st. 259. 
 
 The celebrated magician Maugis, cousin to Rinaldo of Montalban, 
 called, by Ariosto, Malagigi, studied the black art at Toledo, as we 
 learn from L'Histoire de Maugis D' Aygremont. He even held a 
 professor’s chair in the necromantic university ; for so I interpret 
 the passage, “ qu'en tous les sept ars d'enchantement, des charmes 
 et conjurations il n'y avoit meilleur maistre que lui ; et en tel renom 
 qu'on le laissoit en chaise , etl ' appclloit-on maistre Maugis .” This 
 Salamancan Domdaniel is said to have been founded by Hercules. 
 If the classic reader enquires where Hercules himself learned 
 magic, he may consult “ Les f aids et proesses du noble et vaillant 
 Hercules ,” where he wall learn, that the fable of his aiding Atlas to 
 support the heavens, arose from the said Atlas having taught Her- 
 cules, the noble knight errant, the seven liberal sciences, and, in 
 particular, that of judicial astrology. Such, according to the idea 
 of the middle ages, were the studies, “ maximus quce docuit Atlas.'* 
 — In a romantic history of Roderic, the last Gothic king of Spain, 
 he is said to have entered one of those enchanted caverns. It was 
 situated beneath an ancient tower near Toledo ; and when the iron 
 gates, which secured the entrance, were unfolded, there rushed 
 forth so dreadful a whirlwind, that hitherto no one had dared to 
 penetrate into its recesses. But Roderic, threatened with an in- 
 vasion of the Moors, resolved to enter the cavern, where he expected 
 to find some prophetic intimation of the event of the war: Accord- 
 ingly, his train being furnished with torches, so artificially com- 
 
NOTES. 
 
 127 
 
 posed, that the tempest could not extinguish them, the king, with 
 great difficulty, penetrated into a square hall, inscribed all over 
 with Arabian characters. In the midst stood a colossal statue of 
 brass, representing a Saracen wielding a Moorish mace, with which 
 it discharged furious blows on all sides, and seemed thus to excite 
 the tempest which raged around. Being conjured by Roderic, it 
 ceased from striking, until he read, inscribed on the right hand, 
 « Wretched monarch, for thy evil hast thou come hither on the 
 left hand, “ Thou shalt he dispossessed by a strange people; ” on one 
 shoulder, “ I invoke the sons of H agar on the other, “ I do mine 
 office .” When the king had decyphered these ominous inscriptions, 
 the statue returned to its exercise, the tempest commenced anew, 
 and Roderic retired, to mourn over the predicted evils which 
 approached his throne. He caused the gates of the cavern to be 
 locked and barricaded ; hut, in the course of the night, the tower 
 fell with a tremendous noise, and under its ruins concealed for ever 
 the entrance to the mystic cavern. The conquest of Spain by the 
 Saracens, and the death of the unfortunate Don Roderic, fulfilled 
 the prophecy of the brazen statue. Historia verdadera'del Rey Don 
 Rodrigo por el sabio Alcayde Abulcacim, traduzeda de la lengua 
 Arabiga por Miguel de Luna , 1654, cap. vi. 
 
 P. 22, 1. 30. 
 
 The bells would ring in Notre Dame ! 
 
 “ Tantamne rem tarn neglig enter ? ” says Tyrwhitt, of his prede- 
 cessor Speight ; who, in his commentary on Chaucer, had| omitted, 
 as trivial and fabulous, the story of Wade and his boat Guingelot, 
 to the great prejudice of posterity ; the memory of the hero and the 
 boat being now entirely lost. That future antiquaries may lay no 
 such omission to my charge, I have noted one or two of the most 
 current traditions concerning Michael Scott. He was chosen, it is 
 said, to go upon an embassy, to obtain from the king of France 
 satisfaction for certain piracies committed by his subjects upon 
 those of Scotland. Instead of preparing a new equipage and splen- 
 did retinue, the ambassador retreated to his study, opened his book, 
 and evoked a fiend in the shape of a huge black horse, mounted 
 upon his back, and forced him to fly through the air towards 
 France. As they crossed the sea, the devil insidiously asked his 
 rider, What it was that the old women of Scotland muttered at 
 bed-time. A less experienced wizard might have answered, that it 
 was the Pater Noster, which would have licensed the devil to preci- 
 pitate him from his back. But Michael sternly replied, ‘ ‘ What is 
 that to thee ? Mount, Diabolus, and fly ! ” When he arrived at 
 Paris, he tied his horse to the gate of the palace, entered, and boldly 
 delivered his message. An ambassador, with so little of the pomp 
 and circumstance of diplomacy, was not received with much respect ; 
 and the king was about to return a contemptuous refusal to his 
 demand, when Michael besought him to suspend his resolution till, 
 he had seen his horse stamp three times. The first stamp shook 
 every steeple in Paris, and caused all the bells to ring ; the second 
 
128 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 threw down three of the towers of the palace ; and the infernal 
 steed had lifted his hoof to give the third stamp, when the king 
 rather chose to dismiss Michael, with the most ample concessions, 
 than to stand to the probable consequences. Another time, it is 
 said that, when residing at the tower of Oakwood, upon the 
 Ettrick, about three miles above Selkirk, he heard of the fame of 
 a sorceress, called the Witch of Falsehope, who lived on the oppo- 
 site side of the river. Michael went one morning to put her skill 
 to the test, but was disappointed, by her denying positively any 
 knowledge of the necromantic art. In his discourse with her, he 
 laid his wand inadvertently on the table, which the hag observing, 
 suddenly snatched it up, and struck him with it. Feeling the force 
 of the charm, he rushed out of the house ; but, as it had conferred 
 on him the external appearance of a hare, his servant, who waited 
 without, halloo’d upon the discomfited wizard his own greyhounds, 
 and pursued him so close, that, in order to obtain a moment’s 
 breathing to reverse the charm, Michael, after a very fatiguing 
 course, was fain to take refuge in his own jaw -hole ( Anglice , com- 
 mon sewer). In order to revenge himself of the witch of Falsehope, 
 Michael, one morning in the ensuing harvest, went to the hill above 
 the house with his dogs, and sent down his servant to ask a bit of 
 bread from the good-wife for his greyhounds, with instructions 
 what to do if he met with a denial. Accordingly, when the witch 
 had refused the boon with contumely, the servant, as his master 
 had directed, laid above the door a paper, which he had given 
 him, containing, amongst many cabalistical words, the well-known 
 rhyme, — 
 
 Maister Michael Scott’s man 
 
 Sought meat, and gat nane. 
 
 Immediately the good old woman, instead of pursuing her domestic 
 occupation, which was baking bread for the reapers, began to dance 
 round the fire, repeating the rhyme, and continued this exercise 
 till her husband sent the reapers to the house, one after another, 
 to see what had delayed their provision ; but the charm caught 
 each as they entered, and, losing all idea of returning, they joined 
 in the dance and chorus. At length the old man himself went to 
 the house ; but as his wife’s frolic with Mr. Michael, whom he had 
 seen on the hill, made him a little cautious, he contented himself 
 with looking in at the window, and saw the reapers at their in- 
 voluntary exercise, dragging his wife, now completely exhausted, 
 sometimes round, and sometimes through the fire, which was, as 
 usual, in the midst of the house. Instead of entering, he saddled a 
 horse, and rode up the hill, to humble himself before Michael, and 
 beg a cessation of the spell ; which the good-natured warlock imme- 
 diately granted, directing him to enter the house backwards, and, 
 with his left hand, take the spell from above the door; which 
 accordingly ended the supernatural dance. This tale was told less 
 particularly in former editions, and I have been censured for in- 
 accuracy in doing so. — A similar charm occurs in Huon de Bor- 
 deaux , and in the ingenious Oriental tale, called the Caliph Vathek. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 129 
 
 Notwithstanding his victory over the witch of Falsehope, Michael 
 Scott, like his predecessor Merlin, fell at last a victim to female 
 art. His wife, or concubine, elicited from him the secret, that his 
 art could ward off any danger except the poisonous qualities of 
 broth made of the flesh of a breme sow. Such a mess she accord- 
 ingly administered to the wizard, who died in consequence of eating 
 it ; surviving, however, long enough to put to death his treacherous 
 confidante. 
 
 P. 23, 1. 1. 
 
 The words, that cleft Eildon Hills in three , 
 
 And bridled the Tweed with a curb of stone: 
 
 Michael Scott was, once upon a time, much embarrassed by a 
 spirit, for whom he was under the necessity of finding constant 
 employment. He commanded him to build a cauld, or dam-head, 
 across the Tweed at Kelso : it was accomplished in one night, and 
 still does honour to the infernal architect, Michael next ordered, 
 that Eildon hill, which was then a uniform cone, should be divided 
 into three. Another night was sufficient to part its summit into 
 the three picturesque peaks which it now bears. At length the 
 enchanter conquered this indefatigable demon, by employing him 
 in the hopeless and endless task of making ropes out of sea-sand. 
 
 P.24, 1.11. 
 
 That lamp shall burn unquenchable /, 
 
 Baptista Porta, and other authors who treat of natural magic, 
 talk much of eternal lamps, pretended to have been found burning 
 in ancient sepulchres. Fortunius Licetus investigates the subject 
 in a treatise, De Lucernis antiquorum reconditis , published at 
 Venice, 1621. One of these perpetual lamps' is said to have been 
 discovered in the tomb of Tulliola, the daughter of Cicero. The 
 wick was supposed to be composed of asbestos. Kircher enumerates 
 three different receipts for constructing such lamps; and wisely 
 concludes that the thing is nevertheless impossible. — Mundus Sub- 
 terraneus, p. 72. Delrio imputes the fabrication of such lights to 
 magical skill. — Disquisitiones Magicoe, p. 58. In a very rare ro- 
 mance, which “ treateth of the lyfe of Virgilius, and of his detli, 
 and many marvayles that he dyd in his lyfe-time, by wyche-crafte 
 and nygramancye, throughe the helpe of the devyls of hell,” men- 
 tion is made of a very extraordinary process, in which one of these 
 mystical lamps was employed. It seems that Virgil, as he advanced 
 in years, became desirous of renovating his youth by his magical 
 art. For this purpose he constructed a solitary tower, having only 
 one narrow portal, in which he placed twenty-four copper figures, 
 armed with iron flails, twelve on each side of the porch. These 
 enchanted statues struck with their flails incessantly, and rendered 
 all entrance impossible, unless when Virgil touched the spring, 
 which stopped their motion. To this tower he repaired privatety, 
 attended by one trusty servant, to whom he communicated the 
 secret of the entrance, and hither they conveyed all the magician’s 
 K 
 
130 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 treasure. «« Then sayde Virgilius, ‘my dere beloved frende, and he 
 that I above alle men truste, and knowe moste of my secret ; ’ and 
 then he led the man into a cellar, where he made a fayer lamp at all 
 seasons burnynge. And then sayd Yirgilius to the man, * See you 
 the barrel that standeth here ? ’ and he sayd, ‘ yea.’ ‘ Therin must 
 you put me : fyrste ye must slee me, and hewe me smalle to pieces, 
 and cut my hed in iiii pieces, and salte the heed under in the bottom, 
 and then the pieces there after, and my herte in the myddel, and 
 then set the barrel under the lampe, that nyghte and day the fat 
 therein may droppe and leake ; and ye shall, ix dayes long, ones in 
 the daye, fyll the lampe, and fayle nat. And when this is all done, 
 then shall I be renued, and ’made yonge agen.’ ” At this extraordi- 
 nary proposal the confidant was sore abashed, and made some 
 scruple of obeying his master’s commands. At length, however, he 
 complied, and Virgil was slain, pickled, and barrelled up, in all 
 respects according to his own direction. The servant then left the 
 tower, taking care to put the copper threshers in motion at his 
 departure. He continued daily to visit the tower with the same 
 precaution. Meanwhile, the emperor, with whom Yirgil was a 
 great favourite, missed him from the court, and demanded of his 
 servant where he was. The domestic pretended ignorance, till the 
 emperor threatened him with death, when at length he conveyed 
 him to the enchanted tower. The same threat extorted a discovery 
 of the mode of stopping the statues from wielding their flails. ‘ ‘ And 
 then the emperor entered into the castle with all his folke, and 
 soughte all aboute in every corner after Yirgilius ; and at the last 
 they soughte so longe, that they came into the seller, where they 
 sawe the lampe hang over the barrell, where Virgilius lay in deed. 
 Then asked the emperour the man, who had made hym so hardy to 
 put his may ster Yirgilius so to dethe; and the man answered no 
 worde to the emperour. And then the emperour, with great anger, 
 drewe out his sworde, and slewe he there Virgilius’ man. And when 
 all this was done, then sawe the emperour, and all his folke, a naked 
 childe iii tymes rennynge about the barrell, saynge these wordes, 
 
 ‘ Cursed be the tyme that ye ever came here ! ’ And with those 
 wordes vanyshed the chylde awaye, and was never sene ageyn ; and 
 thus abyd Virgilius in the barrell deed.” — Virgilius , bl. let., printed 
 at Antwerpe, by John Doesborcke. This curious volume is in the 
 valuable library of Mr. Douce, and is supposed to be a translation 
 from the French, printed in Flanders for the English market. See 
 Goujet, Biblioth. Franc, ix. 225. Catalogue de la Bibliotheque Na- 
 tion ale, Tom. II. p. 5. De Bure, No. 3857. 
 
 P. 26, 1. 4. 
 
 He thought , as he took it, the dead man frowned ; 
 
 William of Deloraine might be strengthened in this belief by the 
 well-known story of the Cid Ruy Diaz. When the body of that 
 famous Christian champion was sitting in state by the high altar of 
 the cathedral church of Toledo, where it remained for ten years, a 
 certain malicious Jew attempted to pull him by the beard ; but he 
 
NOTES. 
 
 131 
 
 had no sooner touched the formidable whiskers, than the corpse 
 started up, and half unsheathed his sword. The Israelite fled ; and 
 so permanent was the effect of his terror, that he became Christian. 
 — Heywood’s Hierarchies p. 480, quoted from Sebastian Cobarruvias 
 Grozce. 
 
 P. 29, 1. 20. 
 
 The Baron's Dwarf his courser held , 
 
 The idea of Lord Cranstoun’s Goblin Page is taken from a being 
 called Gilpin Horner, who appeared, and made some stay, at a farm- 
 house among the Border mountains. A gentleman of that country 
 has noted down the following particulars concerning his appear- 
 ance. 
 
 “ The only certain, at least most probable, account, that ever I 
 heard of Gilpin Horner, was from an old man of the name of 
 Anderson, who was born, and lived all his life, at Todshawhill, in 
 Eskedale-muir, the place where Gilpin appeared and staid for some 
 time. He said there were two men, late in the evening, when it 
 was growing dark, employed in fastening the horses upon the utter- 
 most part of their ground, (that is, tying their fore-feet together, to 
 hinder them from travelling far in the night,) when they heard a 
 voice, at some distance, crying, 4 Tint ! tint ! tint ! ' * One of the 
 men, named Moffat, called out, * What deil has tint you ? Come 
 here.’ Immediately a creature of something like a human form 
 appeared. It was surprisingly little, distorted in features, and mis- 
 shapen in limbs. As soon as the two men could see it plainly, they 
 ran home in a great fright, imagining they had met with some 
 goblin. By the way, Moffat fell, and it ran over him, and was 
 home at the house as soon as either of them, and staid there a long 
 time, but I cannot say how long. It was real flesh and blood, and 
 ate and drank, was fond of cream, and, when it could get at it, 
 would destroy a great deal. It seemed a mischievous creature ; and 
 any of the children whom it could master it would beat and scratch 
 without mercy. It was once abusing a child belonging to the same 
 Moffat, who had been so frightened by its first appearance ; and he, 
 in a passion, struck it so violent a blow upon the side of the head, 
 that it tumbled upon the ground : but it was not stunned ; for it 
 set up its head directly, and exclaimed, ‘Ah hah, Will o’ Moffat, 
 you strike sair ! ’ (viz. sore.) After it had staid there long, one 
 evening, when the women were milking the cows in the loan, it was 
 playing among the children near by them, when suddenly they 
 heard a loud shrill voice cry, three times, ‘ Gilpin Horner ! * It 
 started, and said, ‘ That is me, I must away f and instantly dis- 
 appeared, and was never heard of more. Old Anderson did not 
 remember it, but said he had often heard his father, and other old 
 men in the place, who were there at the time, speak about it ; and 
 in my younger years I have often heard it mentioned, and never 
 met with any who had the remotest doubt as to the truth of the 
 story ; although, I must own, I cannot help thinking there must be 
 
 Tint signifies lost. 
 
 K 2 
 
132 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 some misrepresentation in it.”— To this account I have to add the 
 following particulars, from the most respectable authority. Besides 
 constantly repeating the word tint ! tint ! Gilpin Horner was often 
 heard to call upon Peter Bertram, or Be-teram, as he pronounced 
 the word : and when the shrill voice called Gilpin Horner, he imme- 
 diately acknowledged it was the summons of the said Peter Ber- 
 tram ; who seems therefore to have been the devil, who had tint, 
 or lost, the little imp. As much has been objected to Gilpin 
 Horner, on account of his being supposed rather a device of the 
 author than a popular superstition, I can only say, that no legend 
 which I ever heard seemed to be more universally credited, and that 
 many persons of very good rank and considerable information are 
 well known to repose absolute faith in the tradition. 
 
 P. 30, 1. 25. 
 
 But the Ladye of Branksome gathered a hand 
 
 Of the best that would ride at her command ; 
 
 “ Upon 25th June, 1557, Dame Janet Beatoune Lady Buccleuch* 
 and a great number of the name of Scott, delaitit (accused) for 
 coming to the kirk of St. Mary of the Lowes, to the number of two 
 hundred 'persons bodin in feire of weire ^(arrayed in armour), and 
 breaking open the doors of the said, kirk, in order to apprehend the 
 laird of Cranstoune for his destruction.” On the 20th July, a war- 
 rant from the queen is presented, discharging the justice to proceed 
 against the Lady Buccleuch while new calling. — Abridgment of 
 Books of Adjournal , in Advocates' Library The following pro- 
 
 ceedings upon this case appear on the record of the Court of Justi- 
 ciary : — On the 25th of June, 1557, Robert Scott, in Bowhill parish, 
 priest of the kirk of St. Mary’s, accused of the convocation of the 
 Queen’s lieges, to the number of 200 persons, in warlike array, with 
 jacks, helmets, and other weapons, and marching to the chapel of 
 St. Mary of the Lowes, for the slaughter of Sir Peter Cranstoun, 
 out of ancient feud and malice prepense, and of breaking the doors 
 of the said kirk, is repledged by the Archbishop of Glasgow. The 
 bail given by Robert Scott of Allenhaugh, Adam Scott of Bume- 
 fute, Robert Scott in Howfurde, Walter Scott in Todshawhaugh, 
 Walter Scott, younger of Synton, Thomas Scott of Hayning, Robert 
 Scott, William Scott, and James Scott, brothers of the said Walter 
 Scott, Walter Scott in the Woll, and Walter Scott, son of William 
 Scott of Harden, and James Wemys in Eckford, all accused of the 
 same crime, is declared to be forfeited. On the same day, Walter 
 Scott of Synton, and Walter Chisholme of Chisholme, and William 
 Scott of Harden, became bound, jointly and severally, that Sir 
 Peter Cranstoun, and his kindred and servants, should receive no 
 injury from them in future. At the same time, Patrick Murray of 
 Fallowhill, Alexander Stuart, uncle to the laird of Trakwhare, 
 John Murray of Newhall, John Fairlye, residing in Selkirk, George 
 Tait, younger of Pirn, John Pennycuke of Pennycuke, James Ram- 
 say of Cockpcn, the laird of Fassyde, and the laird of Henderstone, 
 were all severally fined for not attending as jurors ; being probably 
 
NOTES. 
 
 133 
 
 either in alliance with the accused parties, or dreading their ven- 
 geance. Upon the 20th of July following, Scott of Synton, Chis- 
 holme of Chisholme, Scott of Harden, Scott of Howpaslie, Scott of 
 Burnfute, with many others, are ordered to appear at next calling, 
 under the pains of treason. But no farther procedure seems to have 
 taken place. It is said, that, upon this rising, the kirk of St. Mary 
 was burned by the Scotts. 
 
 P. 34, 1. 12. 
 
 When , dancing in the sunny beam , 
 
 He marked the Crane on the Baron's crest j 
 The crest of the Cranstouns, in allusion to their name, is a crane 
 dormant, holding a stone in his foot, with an emphatic Border 
 motto. Thou shalt want ere I leant. 
 
 P.36, L 5. 
 
 Much he marvelled , a knight of pride 
 Like a book-bosomed priest should ride : 
 
 “ At Unthank, two miles N.E. from the church (of Ewes,) there 
 are the ruins of a chapel for divine service, in time of popery. There 
 is a tradition, that friars were wont to come from Melrose, or Jed- 
 burgh, to baptise and marry in this parish ; and, from being in use 
 to carry the mass-book in their bosoms, they were called, by the 
 inhabitants, Book-a-bosomes. There is a man yet alive, who knew 
 old men who had been baptised by these Book-a-bosomes, and who 
 says one of them, called Hair, used this parish for a very long 
 tim Account of Parish of Ewes, apud Macfarlane's MSS. 
 
 P. 36, 1. 19. 
 
 It had much of glamour might , 
 
 Glamour , in the legends of Scottish superstition, means the magic 
 power of imposing on the eye-sight of the spectators, so that the 
 appearance of an object shall be totally different from the reality. 
 The transformation of Michael Scott by the witch of Falsehope, 
 already mentioned, was a genuine operation of glamour. To a 
 similar charm the ballad of Johnny Fa’ imputes the fascination of 
 the lovely Countess, who eloped with that gipsy leader : 
 
 “ Sae soon as they saw her weel-far’d face, 
 
 They cast the glamour o’er her.” 
 
 It was formerly used even in war. In 1381, when the Duke of 
 Anjou lay before a strong castle upon the coast of Naples, a necro- 
 mancer offered to “ make the ayre so thycke, that they within shal 
 thynke that there is a great bridge on the see (by which the castle 
 was surrounded) , for ten men to go a front ; and whan they within 
 the castell se this bridge, they will be so afrayd, that they shall 
 yelde them to your mercy.” The Duke demanded— «“ ‘ Fayre Master, 
 
134 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 on this bridge that ye speke of, may our people assuredly go thereon 
 to the castell, to assayle it ?’ ‘ Syr,’ quod the enchantour, ‘ I dare 
 not assure you that ; for if any that passeth on the bridge make the 
 signe of the crosse on hym, all shall go to noughte, and they that 
 he on the bridge shall fall into the see.’ Then the Duke began to 
 laugh ; and a certain of yong knightes, that were there present, 
 said, ‘ Syr, for God sake, let the Mayster essay his cunning ; we 
 shal leve making of any signe of the crosse on us for that tyme.’ ” 
 The Earl of Savoy shortly after entered the tent, and recognised in 
 the enchanter the same person who had put the castle into the 
 power of Sir Charles de la Payx, who then held it, by persuading 
 the garrison of the Queen of Naples, through magical deception, 
 that the sea was coming over the walls. The sage avowed the feat, 
 and added, that he was the man in the world most dreaded by 
 Sir Charles de la Payx. “ * By my faith,’ quod the Erl of Savoy, * ye 
 say well ; and I will that Syr Charles de la Payx shall know that 
 he hath gret wronge to fear you. But I shall assure him of you ; 
 for ye shall never do enchauntment to deceyve him, nor yet none 
 other. I wolde nat that in tyme to come we shulde be reproached 
 that in so hygh an enterprise as we be in, wherein there be so many 
 noble knyghtes and squyers assembled, that we shulde do any tliyng 
 be enchauntment, nor that we shulde wyn our enemvs by suche 
 crafte.’ Then he called to him a servaunt, and sayd, ‘ Go and get a 
 hangman, and let him stryke of this mayster’s heed without delay.’ 
 And as sone as the Erl had commaunded it, incontynent it was done; 
 for his head was stryken of before the Erl’s tent.” — Froissart, 
 Vol. L, ch. 391 , 392. 
 
 The art of glamour, or other fascination, was anciently a prin- 
 cipal part of the skill of the jongleur , or juggler, whose tricks 
 formed much of the amusement of a Gothic castle. Some instances 
 of this art may be found in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, 
 Vol. III. p. 119. In a strange allegorical poem, called the Houlat, 
 written by a dependant of the house of Douglas, about 1452-3, the 
 jay, in an assembly of birds, plays the part of the juggler. His feats 
 of glamour are thus described : — 
 
 He gart them see, as it semyt, in samyn houre, 
 Hunting at herdis in holtis so hair ; 
 
 Soune sailand on the see schippis of toure, 
 Bernis batalland on burd brim as a bare ; 
 
 He coulde carye the coupe of the kingis des. 
 Syne leve in the stede, 
 
 Bot a black bunwede ; 
 
 He could of a henis hede. 
 
 Make a man mes. 
 
 He gart the Emproure trow, and trewlye behald, 
 That the corncraik, the pundare at hand, 
 
 Had poyndit all his pris hors in a poynd fald, 
 Because thai ete of the corn in the kirkland. 
 
135 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 He could wirk windaris, quhat way that he wald ; 
 
 Mak a gray gus a gold garland, 
 
 A lang spere of a bittle for a berne bald, 
 
 Nobilis of nutschelles, and silver of sand. 
 
 Thus joukit with juxters the janglane ja, 
 
 Fayre ladyes in ringis, 
 
 Knychtis in caralyngis, 
 
 Bayth dansis and singis,, 
 
 It semyt as sa. 
 
 P. 37, 1. 8. 
 
 Now , if you ask who gave the stroke, 
 
 T cannot tell , so mot I thrive ; 
 
 It was not given by man alive. 
 
 Dr. Henry More, in a letter prefixed to GlanviUe’s Saducismus 
 Triumphatis, mentions a similar phenomenon. 
 
 “ I remember an old gentleman in the country, of my acquaint- 
 ance, an excellent Justice of Peace, and a piece of a mathema- 
 tician; but what kind of a philosopher he was you may under- 
 stand from a rhyme of his own making, which he commended to me 
 at my taking horse in his yard ; which rhyme is this : 
 
 Ens is nothing till sense finds out ; 
 
 Sense ends in nothing, so naught goes about. 
 
 Which rhyme of his was so rapturous to himself, that, on the 
 reciting of the second verse, the old man turned himself about upon 
 his toe as nimbly as one may observe a dry leaf whisked round in 
 the corner of an orchard-walk by some little whirlwind. With this 
 philosopher I have had many discourses concerning the immor- 
 tality of the soul and its distinction : When I have run him quite 
 down by reason, he would but laugh at me, and say, this is logic, H. 
 (calling me by my Christian name ;) to which I 'replyed, this is 
 reason, Father L., (for I used and some others to call him ;) but it 
 seems you are for the new lights, and immediate inspiration ; which 
 I confess he was as little for as for the other ; but I said so only in 
 way of drollery to him in those times : but truth is, nothing but 
 palpable experience would move him ; and being a bold man, and 
 fearing nothing, he told me he had used all the magical ceremonies 
 of conjuration he could, to raise the devil or a spirit, and had a 
 most earnest desire to meet with one, but never could do it. But 
 this he told me, when he did not so much as think of it, while his 
 servant was pulling off his boots in the hall, some invisible hand 
 gave him such a clap upon the back, that it made all ring again ; 
 so, thought he now, I am invited to the converse of my spirit ; and 
 therefore, so soon as his boots were off, and bis shoes on, out he 
 goes into the yard and next field, to find out the spirit that had 
 given him this familiar clap on the back, but found none, neither 
 in the yard nor field next to it. 
 
136 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 “But though he did not feel this stroke, albeit he thought it 
 afterwards (finding nothing came of it) a mere delusion ; yet, not 
 long before his death, it had more force with him than all the phi- 
 losophical arguments I could use to him, though I could wind him 
 and non-plus him as I pleased ; but yet all my arguments, how 
 solid soever, made no impression upon him ; wherefore, after seve- 
 ral reasonings of this nature, whereby I would prove to him the 
 soul’s distinction from the body, and its immortality, when nothing 
 of such subtile considerations did any more execution on his mind 
 than some lightning is said to do, though it melts the sword, on the 
 fuzzy consistency of the scabbard. — Well, said I, Father L., though 
 none of these things move you, I have something still behind, and 
 what yourself has acknowledged to me to be true, that may do the 
 business:— Do you remember the clap on your back, when your 
 servant was pulling off your boots in the hall ? Assure yourself, 
 said I, Father L., that goblin will be the first that will bid you wel- 
 come into the other world. Upon that his countenance changed 
 most sensibly, and he was more confounded with this rubbing up 
 his memory, than with all the rational or philosophical argumen- 
 tations that I could produce.” 
 
 P. 38, 1. 7. 
 
 The running stream dissolved the spell , 
 
 It is a firm article of popular faith, that no enchantment can sub- 
 sist in a living stream. Nay, if you can interpose a brook betwixt 
 you and witches, spectres, or even fiends, you are in perfect safety. 
 Burns’s inimitable Tam o' Shanter turns entirely upon such a cir- 
 cumstance. The belief seems to be of antiquity. Brompton in- 
 forms us, that certain Irish vizards could, by spells, convert 
 earthen clods or stones into fat pigs, which they sold in the market, 
 but which always re- assumed their proper form, when driven by 
 the deceived purchaser across a running stream. But Brompton is 
 severe on the Irish, for a very good reason. “ Gens ista spurcissima 
 non solvunt decimas.” — Chronicon Johannis Brompton, apud decern 
 Scriptores, p. 1076. 
 
 P. 40, 1. 9. 
 
 His buckler scarce in breadth a span, 
 
 No longer fence had he ; 
 
 He never counted him a man 
 Would strike below the knee ; 
 
 Imitated from Drayton’s account of Robin Hood and his 
 followers : 
 
 A hundred valiant men had this brave Robin Hood, 
 
 Still ready at his call, that bowmen were right good ; 
 
 All clad in Lincoln green, with caps of red and blue ; 
 
 His fellow’s winded horn not one of them but knew. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 137 
 
 When setting to their lips their bugle shrill, 
 
 The warbling echoes waked from every dale and hill ; 
 
 Their bauldrics set with studs athwart their shoulders cast, 
 
 To which under their arms their sheafs were buckled fast, 
 
 A short sword at their belt, a buckler scarce a span, 
 
 Who struck below the knee not counted then a man. 
 
 All made of Spanish yew, their bows were wondrous strong, 
 
 They not an arrow drew but was a cloth yard long ; 
 
 Of archery they had the very perfect craft, 
 
 With broad arrow, or but, or prick, or roving shaft. 
 
 Poly-Olbion, Song 26. 
 
 To wound an antagonist in the thigh or leg was reckoned con- 
 trary to the law of arms. In a tilt between Gawain Michael, an 
 English squire, and Joachim Cathore, a Fenchman; ‘‘they met 
 at the speare poyntes rudely, the French squyer justed right plea- 
 santly; the Englyshman ran too lowe, for he strak the French- 
 man depe into the thygh. Wherwith the Erie of Buckingham was 
 right sore displeased, and so were all the other lordes, and sayde 
 how it was shamefully done.” — Froissakt, vol. i, chap. 366. — Upon 
 a similar occasion, “ the two knights came a fote eche agaynst other 
 rudely, with their speares lowe couched, to stryke eche other within 
 the foure quarters. Johan of Castell-Morante strake the Englysh 
 squyer on the brest, in such wyse, that Sir Wyllyam Fermeton 
 stombled and bowed, for his fote a lytell fayled him. He helde his 
 speare lowe with bothe his handes, and coude nat amende it, and 
 strake Sir Johan of the Castell-Morante in the thighe, so that the 
 speare went clene througlie, that the heed was seen a handful on 
 the other syde. And Syre Johan with the stroke reled, but he fell 
 nat. Than the Englyshe knyghtes and squyers were ryghte sore 
 displeased, and sayde how it was a foule stroke. Syr Wyllyam 
 Fermetone excused himself, and sayde how he was sorie of that 
 adventure, and howe that yf he had knowen that it shulde have 
 beene so, he wolde never have begon it ; sayenge howe he coude nat 
 amende it, by cause of glauncing of his fote, by constraynt of the 
 great stroke that Syr Johan of the Castell-Morante had given him.” 
 —Ibid. ch. 373. 
 
 P. 42, 1. 12. 
 
 And with a charm she staunched the blood ; 
 
 See several charms for this purpose in Reginald Scott’s Discovery 
 of Witchcraft , p. 273. 
 
 Tom Pots was but a serving-man, 
 
 But yet he was a doctor good ; 
 
 He bound his handkerchief on the wound, 
 
 And with some kinds of words he staunched the blood. 
 
 Pieces of ancient popular Poetry , Lond. 1791, p. 131. 
 
138 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 P. 42, 1. 15. 
 
 But she has ta'en the broken lance , 
 
 And washed it from the clotted gore , 
 
 And salved the splinter o'er and o'er. 
 
 Sir Kenelm Digby, in a discourse upon the cure by sympathy, 
 pronounced at Montpelier, before an assembly of nobles and learned 
 men, translated into English by R. White, gentleman, and published 
 in 1 658, gives us the following curious surgical case : 
 
 “ Mr. James Howel (well known in France for his public works, 
 and particularly for his Dendrologie, translated into French by 
 Mons. Baudoin) coming by chance, as two of his best friends were 
 fighting in duel, he did his endeavour to part them, and, putting 
 himselfe between them, seized, with his left hand, upon the hilt of 
 the sword of one of the combatants, while, with his right hand, he 
 laid hold of the blade of the other. They, being transported with 
 fury one against the other, struggled to rid themselves of the hind- 
 rance their friend made, that they should not kill one another ; and 
 one of them roughly drawing the blade of his sword, cuts to the 
 very bone the nerves and muscles of Mr. Howel’s hand ; and then 
 the other disengaged his hilts, and gave a crosse blow on his adver- 
 saries head, which glanced towards his friend, who heaving up his 
 sore hand to save the blow, he was wounded on the back of his 
 hand, as he had been before within. It seems some strange constel- 
 lation reigned then against him, that he should lose so much bloud 
 by parting two such dear friends, who, had they been themselves, 
 would have hazarded both their lives to have preserved his : but 
 this involuntary effusion of bloud by them, prevented that which 
 they sholde have drawn one from the other. For they, seeing Mr. 
 Howel’s face besmeared with blood, by heaving up his wounded 
 hand, they both ran to embrace him ; and, having searched his 
 hurts, they bound up his hand with one of his garters, to close the 
 veins which were cut, and bled abundantly. They brought him 
 home, and sent for a surgeon. But this being heard at court, the 
 king sent one of his own surgeons ; for his majesty much affected 
 the said Mr. Howel. 
 
 “ It was my chance to be lodged hard by him ; and four or five 
 days after, as I was making myself ready, he came to my house, and 
 prayed me to view his wounds ; ‘ for I understand,’ said he, ‘ that 
 you have extraordinary remedies on such occasions, and my sur- 
 geons apprehend some fear that it may grow to a gangrene, and so 
 the hand must be cut off.’ In effect, his countenance discovered 
 that he was in much pain, which he said was insupportable, in 
 regard of the extreme inflammation. I told him I would willingly 
 serve him ; but if haply he knew the manner how I could cure him, 
 without touching or seeing him, it may be he would not expose him- 
 self to my manner of curing, because he would think it, peradven- 
 ture, either ineffectual or superstitious. He replied, ‘ The wonder- 
 ful things which many have related unto me of your way of medi- 
 
NOTES. 
 
 139 
 
 cinement, makes me nothing doubt at all of its efficacy ; and all that 
 I have to say unto you is comprehended in the Spanish proverb, 
 Hagase el milagro y hagalo Mahoma ; let the miracle be done, 
 though Mahomet do it.’ 
 
 “ I asked him then for any thing that had the bloud upon it ; so 
 he presently sent for his garter, wherewith his hand was first bound ; 
 and as I called for a basin of water, as if I would wash my hands, I 
 took a handful of powder of vitriol, which I had in my study, and 
 presently dissolved it. As soon as the bloudy garter was brought me, 
 I put it within the basin, observing, in the interim, what Mr. 
 Howel did, who stood talking with a gentleman in a corner of my 
 chamber, not regarding at all what I was doing : but he started 
 suddenly, as if he had found some strange alteration in himself. I 
 asked him what he ailed ? ‘ I know not what ailes me, but I finde 
 that I feel no more pain. Methinks that a pleasing kinde of fresh- 
 nesse, as it were a wet cold napkin, did spread over my hand, which 
 hath taken away the inflammation that tormented me before.’ I 
 replied, ‘ Since then that you feel already so good effect of my 
 medicament, I advise you to cast away all your playsters; only 
 keep the wound clean, and in a moderate temper betwixt heat and 
 cold.’ This was presently reported to the Duke of Buckingham, 
 and a little after to the king, who were both very curious to know 
 the circumstance of the businesse, which was, that after dinner I 
 took the garter out of the water, and put it to dry before a great 
 fire. It was scarce dry, but Mr Howel’s servant came running, 
 that his master felt as much burning as ever he had done, if not 
 more ; for the heat was such as if his hand were ’twixt coles of fire. 
 I answered, although that had happened at present, yet he should 
 find ease in a short time ; for I knew the reason of this new acci- 
 dent, and would provide accordingly ; for his master should be free 
 from that inflammation, it may be, before he could possibly return 
 to him ; but in case he found no ease, I wished him to come pre- 
 sently back again ; if not, he might forbear coming, Thereupon he 
 went ; and at the instant I did put again the garter into the water : 
 thereupon he found his master without any pain at all. To be brief, 
 there was no sense of pain afterward ; but within five or six dayes 
 the wounds were cicatrized, and entirely healed.” — Page 6. 
 
 The king (James VI.) obtained from Sir Kenelm the discovery of 
 his secret, which he pretended had been taught him by a Carmelite 
 friar, who had learned it in Armenia, or Persia. Let not the age 
 of animal magnetism and metallic tractors smile at the sympathetic 
 powder of Sir Kenelm Digby. Reginald Scot mentions the same 
 mode of cure in these terms: “ And that which is more strange 
 .... they can remedie anie stranger with that verie sword where- 
 with they are wounded. Yea, and that which is beyond all admi- 
 ration, if they stroke the sword upward with their fingers, the 
 partie shall feele no pain ; whereas, if they draw their fingers 
 downwards, thereupon the partie wounded shall feele intolerable 
 pain.” I presume that the success ascribed to the sympathetic 
 mode of treatment might arise from the pains bestowed in washing 
 the wound, and excluding the air, thus bringing on a cure by the 
 
140 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 first intention. It is introduced by Dryden in the Enchanted Island, 
 a (very unnecessary) alteration of the Tempest: 
 
 Ariel. Anoint the sword which pierced him with this 
 Weapon-salve, and wrap it close from air. 
 
 Till I have time to visit him again. — Act v. sc. 2. 
 
 Again, in scene 4th, Miranda enters with Hippolito’s sword 
 wrapt up : 
 
 Hip. O my wound pains me. [ She unwraps the sword. 
 
 Mir. I am come to ease you. 
 
 Hip. Alas, I feel the cold air come to me ; 
 
 My wound shoots worse than ever. 
 
 Mir. Does it still grieve you ? 
 
 wipes and anoints the sword. 
 
 Hip. Now, methinks, there’s something laid just upon it. 
 
 Mir. Do you find no ease ? 
 
 Hip. Yes, yes ; upon the sudden all this pain 
 Is leaving me. Sweet Heaven, how I am eased ! 
 
 P. 44, 1. 1. 
 
 On Penchryst glows a hale of fire. 
 
 And three are kindling on Priesthaughsivire ; 
 
 The Border beacons, from their number and position, formed a 
 sort of telegraphic communication with Edinburgh. — The act of 
 parliament 1455, c. 48, directs that one bale or faggot shall be 
 warning of the approach of the English in any manner ; two bales, 
 that they are coming indeed ; four bales, blazing beside each other, 
 that the enemy are in great force. “ The same taikenings to be 
 watched and maid at Eggerhope (Eggerstane) Castell, fra they se 
 the fire of Hume, that they fire right swa. And in like manner on 
 Sowtra Edge, sail se the fire of Eggerhope Castell, and mak taiken- 
 ing in like manner : And then may all Louthaine be warned, and in 
 special the Castell of Edinburgh ; and there four fires to be made in 
 like manner, that they in Fife, and fra Striveling east, and the 
 east part of Louthaine, and to Dunbar, all may se them, and come to 
 the defence of the realme,” These beacons (at least in latter times) 
 were “ a long and strong tree set up, with a long iron pole across 
 the head of it, and an iron brander fixed on a stalk in the middle 
 of it, for holding a tar-barrel.— Stevenson’s History , Yol II. p. 701. 
 
 P. 44, 1. 14. 
 
 Our kin , and clan , and friends, to raise. 
 
 The speed with which the Borderers collected great bodies of horse, 
 may be judged of from the following extract, when the subject of 
 the rising was much less important than that supposed in the ro- 
 mance. It is taken from Carey’s Memoirs. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 141 
 
 “ Upon the death of the old Lord Scroop, the queen gave the 
 west wardenry to his son, that had married my sister. He, having 
 received that office, came to me with great earnestness, and desired 
 me to be his deputy, olfering me that I should live with him in his 
 house ; that he would allow me half a dozen men, and as many 
 horses, to be kept at his charge ; and his fee being lOOOmerks yearly, 
 he would part it with me, and I should have the half. This his 
 noble offer I accepted of, and went with him to Carlisle ; where I 
 was no sooner come, but I entered into my office. We had a stirring 
 time of it ; and few days passed over my head, but I was on horseback, 
 either to prevent mischief, or take malefactors, and to bring the 
 Border in better quiet than it had been in times past. One memo- 
 rable thing, of God’s mercy shown unto me, was such as I have good 
 cause still to remember it. 
 
 “ I had private intelligence given me, that there were two Scottish 
 men, that had killed a churchman in Scotland, and were by one of 
 the Grames relieved. This Grame dwelt within five miles of Car- 
 lisle. He had a pretty house, and close beside it a strong tower, 
 for his own defence in time of need. — About two o’clock in the 
 morning, I took horse in Carlisle, and not above twenty-five in my 
 company, thinking to surprise the house on a sudden. Before I 
 could surround the house, the two Scots were gotten in the strong 
 tower, and I could see a boy riding from the house as fast as his 
 horse could carry him ; I little suspecting what it meant. But 
 Thomas. Carleton came to me presently, and told me, that if I did 
 not presently prevent it, both myself and all my company would 
 be either slain or taken prisoners. It was strange to me to hear 
 this language. He then said to me, ‘ Do you see that boy that 
 rideth away so fast ? He will be in Scotland within this half hour ; 
 and he is gone to let them know that you are here, and to what end 
 you are come, and the small number you have with you ; and 
 that if they will make haste, on a sudden they may surprise us, 
 and do with us what they please.’ Hereupon we took advice what 
 was best to be done. We sent notice presently to all parts to raise 
 the country, and to come to us with all the speed they could ; and 
 withal we sent to Carlisle to raise the townsmen ; for without foot 
 we could do no good against the tower. There we staid some hours, 
 expecting more company ; and within short time after the country 
 came in on all sides, so that we were quickly between three and 
 four hundred horse ; and, after some longer stay, the foot of Car- 
 lisle came to us, to the number of three or four hundred men ; 
 whom we presently set to work, to get up to the top of the tower, 
 and to uncover the roof ; and then some twenty of them to fall 
 down together, and by that means to win the tower. — The Scots, 
 seeing their present danger, offered to parley, and yielded them- 
 selves to my mercy. They had no sooner opened the iron gate, and 
 yielded themselves my prisoners, but we might see 400 horse within 
 a quarter of a mile coming to their rescue, and to surprise me and 
 my small company ; but of a sudden they stayed, and stood at gaze. 
 Then had I more to do than ever ; for all our Borderers came 
 
142 
 
 \ % 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 crying, with full mouths. ‘ Sir, give us leave to set upon them : for 
 these are they that have killed our fathers, our brothers, and uncles, 
 and our cousins ; and they are coming, thinking to surprise you, 
 upon weak grass nags, such as they could get on a sudden ; and 
 God hath put them into your hands, that we may take revenge of 
 them for much blood that they have spilt of ours.’ I desired they 
 would be patient a while, and bethought myself, if I should give 
 them their will, there would be few or none of the Scots that would 
 escape unkilled (there were so many deadly feuds among them) ; 
 and therefore I resolved with myself to give them a fair answer, 
 but not to give them their desire. So I told them, that if I were 
 not there myself, they might then do what pleased themselves ; but 
 being present, if I should give them leave, the blood that should be 
 spilt that day would lie very hard upon my conscience. And there- 
 fore I desired them, for my sake, to forbear ; and, if the Scots did 
 not presently make away with all the speed they could, upon my 
 sending to them, they should then have their wills to do what they 
 pleased. They were ill satisfied with my answer, but durst not 
 disobey. I sent with speed to the Scots, and bade them pack away 
 with all the speed they could ; for if they stayed the messenger’s 
 return, they should few of them return to their own home. They 
 made no stay ; but they were turned homewards before the mes- 
 senger had made an end of his message. Thus, by God’s mercy, I 
 escaped a great danger ; and, by my means, there -were a great 
 many men’s lives saved that day.” 
 
 P. 45, 1. 12. 
 
 On many a cairn's grey pyramid , 
 
 Where urns of mighty chiefs lie hid ; 
 
 The cairns, or piles of loose stone, which crown the summit of 
 most of our Scottish hills, and are found in other remarkale situa- 
 tions, seem usually, though not universally, to have been sepulchral 
 monuments. Six flat stones are commonly found in the centre, 
 forming a cavity of greater or smaller dimensions, in which an urn 
 is often placed. The author is possessed of one, discovered beneath 
 an immense cairn at Roughlee, in Liddisdale. It is of the most 
 barbarous construction ; the middle of the substance alone having 
 been subjected to the fire, over which, when hardened, the artist 
 had laid an inner and outer coat of unbaked clay, etched with some 
 very rude ornaments; his skill apparently being inadequate to 
 baking the vase, when completely finished. The contents were 
 bones and ashes, and a quantity of beads made of coal. This 
 seems to have been a barbarous imitation of the Roman fashion of 
 sepulture. 
 
 P. 47, 1. 20. 
 
 great Dundee. 
 
 The Viscount of Dundee, slain in the battle of Killicrankie. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 143 
 
 P. 48, 1. 8. 
 
 For 'pathless marsh , and mountain cell , 
 
 The peasant left his loivly shed. 
 
 The morasses were the usual refuge of the Border herdsmen, on 
 the approach of an English army.— (Minstrelsy of the Scottish 
 Border , Yol. I. p. 49.) Caves, hewed in the most dangerous and 
 inaccessible places, also afforded an occasional retreat. Such caverns 
 may he seen in the precipitous banks of the Teviot at Sunlaws, upon 
 the Ale at Ancram, upon the Jed at Hundalee, and in many other 
 places upon the Border. The banks of theEske, at Gorton and Haw- 
 thornden, are hollowed into similar recesses. But even these dreary 
 dens were not always secure places of concealment. “ In the way as 
 we came, not far from this place (Long Niddry), George Ferres, a 
 
 gentleman of my Lord Protector’s happened upon a cave in 
 
 the grounde, the mouth whereof was so worne with the fresh printe 
 of steps, that he seemed to be certayne thear wear some folke within ; 
 and gone doune to trie, he was redily receyved with a hakebut or 
 two. He left them not yet, till he had knowen wheyther thei wold 
 be content to yeld and come out ; which they fondly refusing, he 
 went to my lorde’s grace, and upon utterance of the thynge, gat 
 lisence to deale with them as he coulde ; and so returned to them, 
 with a skore or two of pioners. Three ventes had their cave, that we 
 wear ware of, whereof he first stopt up on ; anoother he fill’d full of 
 strawe, and set it a fyer, whereat they within cast water apace ; but 
 it was so well maynteyned without, that the fyer prevayled, and 
 thei within fayn to get them belyke into anoother parler. Then 
 devised we (for I hapt to be with hym) to stop the same up, whereby 
 we should eyther smoother them, or find out their ventes, if thei 
 hadde any moe : as this was done at another issue, about xii score 
 of, we mought see the fume of their smoke to come out ; the which 
 continued with so great a force, and so long a while, that we could 
 not but thinke they must needs get them out, or smoother within : 
 and forasmuch as we found not that they dyd the tone, we thought 
 it for certain they were sure of the toother.” — Patten’s Account of 
 Somerset's Expedition into Scotland , apud Dalyell’s Fragments. 
 
 P. 48, 1. 17. 
 
 southern ravage 
 
 From the following fragment of a letter from the Earl of Nor- 
 thumberland to King Henry VIII. preserved among the Cotton 
 MSS. Calig. B. vii. 179, the reader may estimate the nature of the 
 dreadful war which was occasionally waged npon the Borders, 
 sharpened by mutual cruelties, and the personal hatred of the 
 wardens, or leaders. 
 
 Some Scottish barons, says the earl, had threatened to come 
 within “ thre miles of my pore house of Werkwork, where I lye, 
 and gif me light to put on my clothes at mydnyght ; and alsoo the 
 said Marke Carr said there opynly, that seyng they had a governor 
 on the marches of Scotland, as well as they had in Ingland, he 
 
144 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 shulde kepe your highness instructions, gyffyn unto your garyson, 
 for making of any day-forrey ; for he and his friends wolde burne 
 enough on the nyght, lettyng your counsaill here defyne a notable 
 acte at theyre pleasures. Upon whiche, in your highnes’ name, I 
 comaundet dewe watche to be kept on your marchies, for comyng 
 in of any Scotts. — Neutheless, upon Thursday at night last, came 
 thyrty light horsemen into a litil village of myne, called Whitell, 
 having not past sex houses, lying toward Ryddisdail, upon Shilbotell 
 more, and ther wold have fyred the said howses, but ther was noo 
 fyre to gett there, and they forgate to brynge any withe theyme ; 
 and toke a wyf, being great with chylde, in the said towme, and 
 said to liyr, Wher w r e can not gyve the lard lyght, yet we shall doo 
 this in spyte of hym ; and gyve hyr iii mortal wounds upon the 
 heid, and another in the right side, with a dagger : wheruppon tli^ 
 said wyf is deede, and the childe in her bely is loste. Beseeching 
 your most gracious highnes to reduce unto your gracious memory 
 this wylful and shamefull murder, done within this your highnes’ 
 realme, notwithstanding all the inhabitants thereabout rose unto 
 the said fray, and gave wamynge by becons into the countrey afore 
 theyme, and yet the Scottsmen dyde escape. And upon certeyne 
 knowledge to my brother Clyfforthe and me, had by credable 
 persons of Scotland, this abomynable act not only to be done by 
 dyverse of the Mershe, but also the afore named persons of 
 Tyvidaill, and consented to, as by appearance, by the Erie of 
 Murey, upon Friday at night last, let slyp C of the best horsemen 
 of Glendaill, with a part of your highnes subjects of Berwyke, 
 together with George Dowglas, whoo came into Ingland agayne, 
 in the dawning of the day ; but afore theyre retome, they dyd mar 
 the Earl of Murrei’s provisions at Coldingham : for they did not 
 only burne the said town of Coldingham, with all the corn thereunto 
 belonging, which is esteemed wurthe cii marke sterling : but alsoo 
 burned twa townes nye adjoining thereunto, called Branerdergest 
 and the Black Hill, and toke xxiii persons, lx horse, with cc hed 
 of cataill, which no we, as I am informed, ha the not only been a 
 staye of the said Erie of Murrei’s not coming to the bordure as yet, 
 but alsoo, that none inlande man will adventure theyr seifs uppon 
 the marches. And as for the tax that shulde have been grauntyd 
 for finding of the said iii hundred men, is utterly denyed. Upon 
 which the King of Scotland departed from Edynburgh to Stirling, 
 and as yet there doth remayn. And also I, by the advice of my 
 brother Clyfforth, have devysed that within this iii nyghts, Godde 
 willing, Kelsey, in lyke case, shall be brent, with all the corne in 
 the said town ; and then they shall have noo place to lye any garyson 
 in, nygh unto the Borders. And as I shall atteigne further knaw- 
 ledge, I shall not faill to satisfye your highness, according to my 
 most bounden dutie. And for this burning of Kelsey is devysed to 
 be done secretly, by Tyndaill and Ryddisdale. And thus the holy 
 Trynite and * * * your most royal estate, with long lyf, and as much 
 increase of honour as your most noble heart can desire. At Werk- 
 worth , the xxiid day of October” (1522.) 
 
NOTES. 
 
 145 
 
 P. 48, 1. 20. 
 
 Watt Tinlinn ,- 
 
 Tliis person was, in my younger days, the theme of many a 
 fireside tale. He was a retainer of the Buccleuch family, and held 
 for his Border service a small tower on the frontiers of Liddisdale. 
 Watt was, by profession, a sutor, but, by inclination and practice, 
 an archer and warrior. Upon one occasion, the captain of Bew- 
 castle, military governor of that wild district of Cumberland, is 
 said to have made an incursion into Scotland, in which he was 
 defeated, and forced to fly. Watt Tinlinn pursued him closely 
 through a dangerous morass : the captain, however, gained the firm 
 ground; and seeing Tinlinn dismounted, and floundering in the 
 bog, used these words of insult : “ Sutor Watt, ye cannot sew your 
 boots; the heels risp, and the seams rive *.”■ — “If I cannot sew,” 
 — retorted Tinlinn, discharging a shaft, which nailed the captain’s 
 thigh to his saddle, — “ If I cannot sew, I can yerk f.” 
 
 P. 49, 1. 5. 
 
 Billhope Stag. 
 
 There is an old rhyme, which thus celebrates the places in 
 Liddisdale, remarkable for game : 
 
 Billhope braes for bucks and raes, 
 
 And Carit haugh for swine, 
 
 And Tarras for the good bull-trout, 
 
 If he be ta’en in time. 
 
 The bucks and roes, as well as the old swine, are now extinct ; 
 but the good bull-trout is still famous. 
 
 P. 49, 1. 9. 
 
 Of silver brooch and bracelet proud, 
 
 As the Borderers were indifferent about the furniture of their 
 habitations, so much exposed to be burned and plundered, they 
 were proportionally anxious to display splendour in decorating and 
 ornamenting their females. — See Lesly de Moribus Limitaneorum. 
 
 P. 49, 1. 23. 
 
 Belted Will Howard 
 
 Lord William Howard, third son of Thomas, duke of Norfolk, 
 succeeded to Naworth Castle, and a large domain annexed to it, 
 in right of his wife Elizabeth, sister of George Lord Dacre, who died 
 without heirs male, in the 11th of Queen Elizabeth. By a poetical 
 anachronism, he is introduced into the romance a few years earlier 
 
 * Risp, creak — Rive, t*>ar. 
 
 t Yerk, to twitch, as shoemakers do, in securing the stitches of their work. 
 
 L 
 
146 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 than he actually flourished. He was warden of the Western Marches ; 
 and, from the rigour with which he repressed the Border excesses, 
 the name of Belted Will Howard is still famous in our traditions. 
 In the castle of Naworth, his apartments, containing a bed-room, 
 oratory, and library, are still shown. They impress us with an 
 unpleasing idea of the life of a lord warden of the marches. Three 
 or four strong doors, separating these rooms from the rest of the 
 castle, indicate apprehensions of treachery from his garrison ; and 
 the secret winding passages through which he could privately de- 
 scend into the guard-room, or even into the dungeons, imply the 
 necessity of no small degree of secret superintendance on the part 
 of the governor. As the ancient books and furniture have remained 
 undisturbed, the venerable appearance of these apartments, and the 
 armour scattered around the chamber, almost lead us to expect the 
 arrival of the warden in person. Naworth Castle is situated near 
 Brampton, in Cumberland. Lord William Howard is ancestor of 
 the earls of Carlisle. 
 
 P. 49, 1, 24. 
 
 Lord Dacre, 
 
 The well-known name of Dacre is derived from the exploits of 
 one of their ancestors at the siege of Acre, or Ptolemais, under 
 Richard Cceur de Lion. There were two powerful branches of that 
 name. The first family, called Lord Dacres of the South, held the 
 castle of the same name, and are ancestors to the present Lord 
 Dacre. The other family, descended from the same stock, were 
 called Lord Dacres of the North, and were barons of Gilsland and 
 Graystock. A chieftain of the latter branch was warden of the 
 West Marches during the reign of Edward VI. He was a man of a hot 
 and obstinate character, as appears from some particulars of Lord 
 Surrey’s letter to Henry VIII., giving an account of his behaviour 
 at the siege and storm of Jedburgh. It is printed in the Minstrelsy 
 of the Scottish Border , Appendix to the Introduction. 
 
 P. 49, 1. 25. 
 
 the German hackbut-men, 
 
 In the wars with Scotland, Henry VIII. and his successors, em- 
 ployed numerous bands of mercenary troops. At the battle of 
 Pinky, there were in the English army six hundred hackbutters on 
 foot, and two hundred on horseback, composed chiefly of foreigners. 
 On the 27th September, 1549, the Duke of Somerset, Lord Protector, 
 writes to the Lord Dacre, warden of the West Marches : “ The 
 Almains, in number two thousand, very valiant soldiers, shall be 
 sent to you shortly from Newcastle, together with Sir Thomas 
 Holcroft, and with the force of your wardenry, (which we would were 
 advanced to the most strength of horsemen that might be,) shall 
 make the attempt to Loughmaben, being of no such strength but 
 that it may be skailed with ladders, whereof, beforehand, we would 
 you caused secretly some number to be provided ; or else under- 
 
NOTES. 
 
 147 
 
 mined with the pyke-axe, and so taken : either to he kept for the 
 king’s majesty, or otherwise to he defaced, and taken from the 
 profits of the enemy. And in like manner the house of Carlaverock 
 to be used.” Repeated mention occurs of the Almains, in the 
 subsequent correspondence ; and the enterprise seems finally to have 
 been abandoned, from the difficulty of providing these strangers 
 with the necessary “ victuals and carriages in so poor a country as 
 Dumfries shire.” History of Cumberland , Yol. I. Introd. p. lxi. 
 From the battle-pieces of the ancient Flemish painters, we learn 
 that the Low-Country and German soldiers marched to an assault 
 with their right knees bared. And we may also observe, in such 
 pictures, the extravagance to which they carried the fashion of 
 ornamenting their dress with knots of riband. This custom of the 
 Germans is alluded to in the Mirrour for Magistrates , p. 121. 
 
 Their pleited garments therewith well accord, 
 
 All jagde and frounst, with divers colours deckt. 
 
 P. 50, 1. 24. 
 
 His ready lances Thirlestane brave 
 Arrayed beneath a banner bright. 
 
 Sir John Scott of Thirlestaine flourished in the reign of James V., 
 and possessed the estates of Thirlestaine, Gamescleuch, &c. lyingupon 
 the river of Ettricke, and extending to St. Mary’s Loch, at the head of 
 Yarrow. It appears, that when James had assembled his nobility, 
 and their feudal followers, at Fala, with the purpose of invading 
 England, and was, as is well known, disappointed by the obstinate 
 refusal of his peers, this baron alone declared himself ready to 
 follow the king wherever he should lead. In memory of his fidelity, 
 James granted to his family a charter of arms, entitling them to 
 bear a border of fleurs-de-luce, similar to the tressure in the royal 
 arms, with a bundle of spears for the crest ; motto, Ready , aye 
 ready. The charter itself is printed by Nisbet ; but his work being 
 scarce, I insert the following accurate transcript from the original, 
 in the possession of the Right Honourable Lord Napier, the repre- 
 sentative of John of Thirlestaine. 
 
 “ James Rex. 
 
 “We James, be the grace of God, King of Scottis, considerand 
 the ffaith and guid servis of of of* right traist friend John Scott of 
 Thirlestane, quha cummand to our hoste at Soutraedge, with three 
 score and ten launcieres on horseback of his friends and followers, 
 and beand willing to gang with ws into England, when all our nobles 
 and others refuised, he was ready to stake all at our bidding ; ffor 
 the quhilk cause, it is our will, and we do straitlie command and 
 charg our lion herauld, and his deputies for the time beand, to give 
 and to graunt to the said John Scott, ane Border of ffleure de lises 
 
 * Sic, in orig. 
 
 L 2 
 
148 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 about his coatte of armes, sik as is on our royal banner, and alsua 
 ane bundell of launces above his helmet, with thir words, Readdy, 
 ay Readdy, that he and all his aftercummers may bruik the samine, 
 as -a pledge and taiken of our guid will and kyndnes for his true 
 worthines ; and thir our letters seen, ye nae wayes failzie to doe. 
 Given at Ffalla Muire, under our hand and privy cashet, the xxvii 
 day of July, me and xxxii zeires. By the King’s graces speciall 
 ordinance. 
 
 Jo. Ajrskine.” 
 
 On the back of the charter is written, 
 
 “ Edin. 14. January, 1613. Registred, conform to the act of 
 parliament made anent probative writs, per M‘Kaile, pror. and 
 produced by Alexander Bortliwick, servant to Sir William Scott of 
 Thirlestane. M. L. J.” 
 
 P. 51, 1. 5. 
 
 An aged knight , to danger steeled. 
 
 With many a moss-trooper came on ; 
 
 And azure in a golden field. 
 
 The stars and crescent graced his shield. 
 
 Without the bend of Mur dieston. 
 
 The family of Harden are descended from a younger son of the 
 laird of Buccleuch, who flourished before the estate of Murdieston 
 was acquired by the marriage of one of those chieftains with the 
 heiress, in 1296. Hence they bear the cognizance of the Scottsupon the 
 field ; whereas those of the Buccleuch are disposed upon abend dexter, 
 assumed in consequence of that marriage. — See Gladstaine of White - 
 lawe's MSS. and Scott of St okoe's Pedigree , Newcastle, 1783. 
 
 Walter Scott of Harden, who flourished during the reign of Queen 
 Mary, was a renowned Border free-booter, concerning whom tradi- 
 tion has preserved a variety of anecdotes, some of which have been 
 published in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, and others in 
 Leyden’s Scenes of Infancy ; and others, more lately, in The 
 Mountain Bard , a collection of Border ballads by Mi-. James Hogg. 
 The bugle horn, said to have been used by this formidable leader, 
 is preserved by his descendant, the present Mr. Scott of Harden. — 
 His castle was situated upon the very brink of a dark and precipi- 
 tous dell, through which a scanty rivulet steals to meet the Borth- 
 wick. In the recess of this glen he is said to have kept his spoil, 
 which served for the daily maintenance of his retainers, until the 
 production of a pair of clean spurs, in a covered dish, announced to 
 the hungry band, that they must ride for a supply of provisions. 
 He was married to Mary Scott, daughter of Philip Scott of Dryhope, 
 and called in song the Flower of Yarrow. He possessed a very 
 extensive estate, which was divided among his five sons. There 
 are numerous descendants of this old marauding baron. The follow- 
 ing beautiful passage of Leyden's Scenes of Infancy is foimded on 
 
NOTES. 
 
 149 
 
 a tradition respecting an infant captive, whom Walter of Harden 
 carried off in a predatory incursion, and who is said to have become 
 the author of some of our most beautiful pastoral songs : 
 
 Where Bortha hoarse, that loads the meads with sand. 
 
 Rolls her red tide to Teviot’s western strand, 
 
 Through slaty hills, whose sides are shagged with thorn, 
 Where springs, in scattered tufts, the dark-green com, 
 
 Towers wood-girt Harden, far above the vale, 
 
 And clouds of ravens o’er the turrets sail. 
 
 A hardy race, who never shrunk from war, 
 
 The Scott, to rival realms a mighty bar, 
 
 Here fixed his mountain home ; — a wide domain. 
 
 And rich the soil, had purple heath been grain ; 
 
 But, what the niggard ground of wealth denied. 
 
 From fields more blessed his fearless arm supplied. 
 
 The waning harvest-moon shone cold and bright ; 
 
 The warder’s horn was heard at dead of night ; 
 
 And, as the massy portals wide were flung. 
 
 With stamping hoofs the rocky pavement rung. — 
 
 What fair, half-veil’d, leans from her latticed hall, 
 
 Where red the wavering gleams of torch-light fall ? 
 
 'Tis Yarrow’s fairest flower, who, through the gloom, 
 
 Looks, wistful, for her lover’s dancing plume. 
 
 Amid the piles of spoil, that strewed the ground. 
 
 Her ear, all anxious, caught a wailing sound ; 
 
 With trembling haste the youthful matron flew, 
 
 And from the hurried heaps an infant drew. 
 
 Scared at the light, his little hands he flung 
 Around her neck, and to her bosom clung ; 
 
 While beauteous Mary soothed, in accents mild, 
 
 His fluttering soul, and clasped her foster child. 
 
 Of milder mood the gentle captive grew, 
 
 Nor loved the scenes that scared his infant view ; 
 
 In vales remote, from camps and castles far, 
 
 He shunned the fearful shuddering joy of war ; 
 
 Content the loves of simple swains to sing, 
 
 Or wake to fame the harp’s heroic string. 
 
 His are the strains whose wandering echoes thrill 
 The shepherd lingering on the twilight hill, 
 
 When evening brings the merry folding hours, 
 
 And sun-eyed daisies close their winking flowers. 
 
 He lived, o’er Yarrow’s Flower to shed the tear, 
 
 To strew the holly leaves o’er Harden’s bier ; 
 
 But none was found above the minstrel’s tomb, 
 
 Emblem of peace, to bid the daisy bloom : 
 
 He, nameless as the race from which he sprung, 
 
 Saved other names, and left his own unsung. 
 
150 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 P. 51, \ 30. 
 
 Scotts of Eskdale, a stalwart band , 
 
 In this, and the following stanzas, some account is given of the 
 mode in which the property of the valley of Esk was transferred 
 from the Beattisons, its ancient possessors, to the name of Scott. 
 It is needless to repeat the circumstances, which are given in the 
 poem literally as they have been preserved by tradition. Lord 
 Maxwell, in the latter part of the sixteenth century, took upon 
 himself the title of Earl of Morton. The descendants of Beattison 
 of Woodkerricke, who aided the earl to escape from his disobedient 
 vassals, continued to hold these lands within the memory of man, 
 and were the only Beattisons who had property in the dale. The old 
 people give locality to the story, by showing the Galliard’s Haugh, 
 the place where Buccleuch’s men were concealed, &c. 
 
 P. 54, 1. 14. 
 
 Their gathering word was “ Bellenden /” 
 
 Bellenden is situated near the head of Borthwick water, and, 
 being in the centre of the possession of the Scotts, was frequently 
 used as their place of rendezvous and gathering word. — Survey of 
 Selkirkshire, in Macfarlane's MSS. Advocates’ Library. Hence 
 Satchells calls one part of his genealogical account of the families 
 of that clan, his Bellenden. 
 
 P, 57, 1. 4. 
 
 The camp their home , their law the sword, 
 
 They knew no country, owned no lord : 
 
 The mercenary adventurers, whom, in 1380, the Earl of Cam- 
 bridge carried to the assistance of the King of Portugal against the 
 Spaniards, mutinied for want of regular pay. At an assembly of 
 their leaders, Sir John Soltier, a neural son of -Edward the Black 
 Prince, thus addressed them : “ icounsayle, let us be alle of one 
 alliance, and of one accorde, and let us among ourselves reyse up 
 the baner of St. George, and let us be frendes to God, and enemyes 
 to alle the worlde ; for without we make ourselfe to be feared, we 
 gette nothynge.” 
 
 “ By my fayth,” quod Sir William Helmon, “ ye saye right well, 
 and so let us do.” They all agreed with one voyce, and so regarded 
 among them who shulde be their capitayne. Then they advysed in 
 the case how they coude nat have a better capitayne than Sir John 
 Soltier. For they sulde than have good leyser to do yvell, and they 
 thought he was more metelyer therto than any other. Than they 
 raised up the penon of St. George, and cried, “ A Soltier ! a Soltier ! 
 the valyaunt bastarde ! frendes to God, and enemies to all the 
 worlde 1” Froissart, Yol. I. ph. 393. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 151 
 
 P. 58, 1. 20. 
 
 —a gauntlet on a spear. 
 
 A glove upon a lance was the emblem of faith among the ancient 
 Borderers, who were wont, when any one broke his word, to expose 
 this emblem, and proclaim him a faithless villain at the first Bor- 
 der meeting. This ceremony was much dreaded. See Lesly. 
 
 P.60, 1. 1. 
 
 We claim from thee William of Deloraine, 
 
 That he mag suffer march-treason pain. 
 
 Several species of offences, peculiar to the Border, constituted 
 what was called march-treason. Among others, was the crime of 
 riding, or causing to ride, against the opposite country during the 
 time of truce. Thus, in an indenture made at the water of Eske, 
 beside Salom, the 25th day of March, 1334, betwixt noble lords and 
 mighty, Sirs Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, and Archibald 
 Douglas, Lord of Galoway, a truce is agreed upon until the 1st 
 day of July; and it is expressly accorded, “Gifony stellis authir 
 on the ta part, or on the tothyr, that he shall be henget or heofdit ; 
 and gif ony company stellis any gudes within the trieux beforesayd, 
 ane of that company sail be henget or heofdit, and the remanant 
 sail restore the gudys stollen in the dubble.” — History of Westmore- 
 land and Cumberland , Introd. p. xxxix. 
 
 P. 60, 1. 29. 
 
 William of Deloraine 
 
 Will cleanse him, by oath, of march-treason stain. 
 
 In dubious cases, the innocence of Border criminals was occa- 
 sionally referred to their own oath. The forms of excusing bills, 
 or indictments, by Border-oath ran thus: “You shall swear by 
 heaven above you, hell beneath you, by your part of Paradise, by all 
 that God made in six days and seven nights, and by God himself, 
 you are whart out sackless of art, part, way, witting, ridd, kenning, 
 having, or recetting of any of the goods and cattels named in this 
 bill. So help you God.”— History of Cumberland, Introd. p. xxv. 
 
 P. 61, 1. 5. 
 
 Knighthood he took of Douglas' sword. 
 
 The dignity of knighthood, according to the original institution, 
 had this peculiarity, that it did not flow from the monarch, but 
 could be conferred by one who himself possessed it, upon any squire 
 who, after due probation, was found to merit the honour of chivalry. 
 Latterly, this power was confined to generals, who were wont to 
 create knights bannerets after or before an engagement. Even so 
 late as the reign of Queen Elizabeth, Essex highly offended his 
 
152 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 jealous sovereign by the indiscriminate exertion of this privilege. 
 Amongst others, he knighted the witty Sir John Harrington, whose 
 favour at court was by no means enhanced by his new honours. — 
 See the Nugce Antiqucp , edited by Mr. Park. But probably the 
 latest instance of knighthood conferred by a subject, was in the case 
 of Thomas Ker, knighted by the Earl of Huntley, after the defeat 
 of the Earl of Argyle in the battle of Belrinnes. The fact is attested, 
 both by a poetical and prose account of the engagement, contained 
 in an ancient MS. in the Advocates’ Library, and lately edited by 
 Mr. Dalyell, in Godly Sangs and Ballets , Edin. 1802. 
 
 P. 61, 1. 6. 
 
 When English blood swelled Ancramford ,• 
 
 The battle of Ancram Moor, or Peniel-heuch, was fought A. D. 
 1545. The English, commanded by Sir Ralph Evers, and Sir Brian 
 Latoun, were totally routed, and both their leaders slain in the 
 action. The Scottish army was commanded by Archibald Douglas, 
 Earl of Angus, assisted by the laird of Buccleuch and Norman Lesly. 
 
 P. 63, 1. 4. 
 
 Saw the blanche lion 
 
 This was the cognizance of the noble house of Howard in all its 
 branches. The crest, or bearing, of a warrior, was often used as a 
 nomme de guerre . Thus Richard III. acquired his well-known 
 epithet, the Boar of York . In the violent satire on Cardinal Wolsey, 
 written by Roy, commonly, but erroneously, imputed to Dr. Bull, 
 the Duke of Buckingham is called the Beautiful Swan , and the Duke 
 of Norfolk, or Earl of Surrey, the White Lion. As the book is ex- 
 tremely rare, and the whole passage relates to the emblematical 
 interpretation of heraldry, it shall be here given at length. 
 
 The Descripcion of the Armes. 
 
 Of the proud Cardinall this is the shelde, 
 Borne up betwene two angels of Sathan ; 
 The sixe bloudy axes in a bare felde, 
 Sheweth the cruelty of the red man, 
 Which hath devoured the Beautiful Swan, 
 Mortal enemy unto the Whyte Lion, 
 Carter of Yorke, the vyle butcher’s sonne. 
 
 The sixe bulles heddes in ^ felde blacke, 
 Betokeneth his stordy furiousness. 
 Wherefore, the godly lyght to put abacke, 
 He bryngeth in his dy vlish darcnes ; 
 
 The bandog in the middes doth expresse 
 The mastiff curre bred in Ypswich towne, 
 Gnawynge with his teth a kinges crowne. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 153 
 
 The cloubbe signifieth playne his tiranny. 
 
 Covered over with a Cardinal’s hatt, 
 
 Wherein shall be fulfilled the prophecy, 
 
 Aryse up Jacke, and put on thy salatt, 
 
 For the tyme is come of bagge and walatt. 
 
 The temporall chevalry thus thrown doune, 
 
 Wherefor prest take hede, and beware thy crowne. 
 
 There are two copies of this very scarce satire in the library of 
 the late John, Duke of Roxburghe. See an account of it also in Sir 
 Egerton Bridges’ curious miscellany, the Censura Liter aria. 
 
 P. 63, 1. 11. 
 
 Let Musgrave meet fierce Deloraine 
 In single fight ; 
 
 It may easily be supposed, that trial by single combat, so peculiar 
 to the feudal system, was common on the Borders. In 1558, the 
 well-known Kirkaldy of Grange fought a duel with Ralph Evre, 
 brother to the then Lord Evre, in consequence of a dispute about a 
 prisoner said to have been ill treated by the Lord Evre. Pitscottie 
 gives the following account of the affair; “The Lord of Ivers his 
 brother provoked William Kircaldy of Grange to fight with him, in 
 singular combat, on horseback, with spears ; who, keeping the 
 appointment, accompanied with Monsieur d’Ossel, lieutenant to the 
 French king, and the garrison of Haymouth, and Mr. Ivers, accom- 
 panied with the governor and garrison of Berwick, it was dis- 
 charged, under the pain of treason, that any man should come near 
 the champions within a flight-shot, except one man for either of 
 them to bear their spears, two trumpets, and two lords to be judges. 
 When they were in readiness, the trumpets sounded, the heraulds 
 cried, and the judges let them go. Then they encountered very 
 fiercely ; but Grange struck his spear through his adversary’s 
 shoulder, and bare him off his horse, being sore wounded : But 
 whether he died, or not, it is uncertain.” — Page 202. 
 
 The following indenture will shew at how late a period the trial 
 by combat was resorted to on the Border, as a proof of guilt or in- 
 nocence : 
 
 “ It is agreed between Thomas Musgrave and Lancelot Carleton, 
 for the true trial of such controversies as are betwixt them, to have 
 it openly tried by way of combat, before God and the face of the 
 world, to try it in Canonbyholme, before England and Scotland, 
 upon Thursday in Easter week, being the eight day of April next 
 ensuing, A. D. 1602, betwixt nine of the clock, and one of the same 
 day, to fight on foot, to be armed with jack, steel cap, plaite sleeves, 
 plaite breaches, plaite sockes, two basleard swords, the blades to be 
 one yard and half a quarter of length, two Scotch daggers, or dorks, 
 at their girdles, and either of them to provide armour and weapons 
 for themselves, according to this indenture. Two gentlemen to be 
 appointed, on the field, to view both the parties, to see that they 
 both be equal in arms and weapons, according to this indenture : 
 
154 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 and being so viewed by the gentlemen, the gentlemen to ride to the 
 rest of the company, and to leave them but two boys, viewed by 
 the gentlemen, to be under sixteen years of age, to hold their horses. 
 In testimony of this our agreement, we have both set our hands to 
 this indenture, of intent all matters shall be made so plain, as there 
 shall be no question to stick upon that day. Which indenture, as 
 a witness, shall be delivered to two gentlemen. And for that it is 
 convenient the world should be privy to every particular of the 
 grounds of the quarrel, we have agreed to set it down in this inden- 
 ture betwixt us, that, knowing the quarrel, their eyes may be 
 witness of the trial. 
 
 The Ground* of the Quarrel . 
 
 “1. Lancelot Carleton did charge Thomas Musgrave before the 
 lords of her majesty’s privy council, that Lancelot Carleton was 
 told by a gentleman, one of her majesty’s sworn servants, that 
 Thomas Musgrave had offered to deliver her majesty’s castle of 
 Bewcastle to the king of Scots ; and to witness the same, Launcelot 
 Carleton had a letter under the gentleman’s own hand for his dis- 
 charge. 
 
 “2. He chargeth him, that whereas her majesty doth yearly 
 bestow a great fee upon him, as captain of Bewcastle, to aid and 
 defend her majesty’s subjects therein ; Thomas Musgrave hath 
 neglected his duty, for that her majesty’s castle of Bewcastle was 
 by him made a den of thieves, and an harbour and receipt for mur- 
 derers, felons, and all sorts of misdemeanours. The precedent was 
 Quinten Whitehead and Runion Blackburne. 
 
 “3. He chargeth him, that his office of Bewcastle is open for the 
 Scotch to ride in and through, and small resistance made by him to 
 the contrary. 
 
 “ Thomas Musgrave doth deny all this charge; and saith, that 
 he will prove that Lancelot Carleton doth falsely bely him, and 
 will prove the same by way of combat, according to this indenture. 
 Lancelot Carleton hath entertained the challenge ; and so, by God’s 
 permission, will prove it true as before, and hath set his hand to 
 the same. 
 
 (Signed) Thomas Musgrave. 
 
 Lancelot Carleton.” 
 
 P. 65, 1. 4. 
 
 But he, the jovial Harper , 
 
 The person, here alluded to, is one of our ancient Border minstrels, 
 called Rattling Roaring Willie. This soubriquet was probably 
 derived from his bullying disposition ; being, it would seem, such a 
 roaring boy as is frequently mentioned in old plays. While drink- 
 ing at New r mill, upon Teviot, about five miles above Hawick, Willie 
 chanced to quarrel with one of his own profession, who was usually 
 distinguished by the odd name of Sweet Milk, from a place on Rule 
 water so called. They retired to a meadow, on the opposite side of 
 
NOTES. 
 
 155 
 
 the Teviot, to decide the contest with their swords, and Sweet Milk 
 was killed on the spot. A thorn-tree marks the scene of the 
 murder, which is still called Sweet Milk Thorn. Willie was taken 
 and executed at Jedburgh, bequeathing his name to the beautiful 
 Scotch air, called “ Rattling Roaring Willie.” Ramsay, who set no 
 value on traditionary lore, published a few verses of this song in 
 the Tea Table Miscellany , carefully suppressing all which had any 
 connection with the history of the author, and origin of the piece. 
 In this case, however, honest Allan is in some degree justified by 
 the extreme worthlessness of the poetry. A verse or two may be 
 taken, as illustrative of the history of Roaring Willie, alluded to in 
 the text. 
 
 Now Willie’s gane to Jeddart, 
 
 And he’s for the rood-day * ; 
 
 But Stobs and young Falnashf, 
 They followed him a’ the way ; 
 They followed him a’ the way, 
 
 They sought him up and down, 
 In the links of Ousenam water. 
 They fand him sleeping sound. 
 
 Stobs lighted aff his horse. 
 
 And never a word he spak, 
 
 Till he tied Willie’s hands 
 Fu’ fast behind his back ; 
 
 Fu* fast behind his back, 
 
 And down beneath his knee, 
 
 And drink will be dear to Willie, 
 When sweet milk| gars him die. 
 
 Ah wae light on ye, Stobs ! 
 
 An ill death mot ye die ! 
 
 Y e’re the first and foremost man 
 That e’er laid hands on me, 
 
 That e’er laid hands on me, 
 
 And took my mare me frae ; 
 
 Wae to you, Sir Gilbert Elliot ! 
 
 Ye are my mortal fae ! 
 
 The lasses of Ousenam water 
 
 Are rugging and riving their hair, 
 And a’ for the sake of Willie, 
 
 His beauty was so fair ; 
 
 His beauty was so fair. 
 
 And comely for to see, 
 
 And drink will be dear to Willie, 
 When sweet milk gars him die. 
 
 * The day of the Rood-fair at Jedburgh, 
 t Sir Gilbert Elliot of Stobs, and Scott of Falna9h. 
 $ A wretched pun on his antagonist’s name. 
 
156 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 P, 65, 1. 8. 
 
 Of black Lord Archibald's battle laws. 
 
 In the old Douglas' day. 
 
 The title to the most ancient collection of Border regulations 
 runs thus : 
 
 “ Be it remembered, that, on the 18th day of December, 1468, 
 Earl William Douglas assembled the whole lords, freeholders, and 
 eldest Borderers, that best knowledge had, at the college of Lin- 
 clouden; and there he caused those lords and Borderers bodily to be 
 sworn, the Holy Gospel touched, that they justly and truly, after 
 their cunning, should decreet, decern, deliver, and put in order and 
 writing, the statutes, ordinances, and uses of marche, that were 
 ordained in Black Archibald of Douglas's days, and Archibald his 
 son’s days, in time of warfare ; and they came again to him advisedly 
 with these statutes and ordinances, which were in time of warfare 
 before. The said Earl William, seeing the statutes in writing 
 decreed and delivered by the said lords and Borderers, thought 
 them right speedful and profitable to the Borders ; the which statutes, 
 ordinances, and points of warfare, he took, and the whole lords and 
 Borderers he caused bodily to be sworn, that they should maintain 
 and supply him at their goodly power, to do the law upon those 
 that should break the statutes under-written. Also the said Earl 
 William, and lords, and eldest Borderers, made certain points to be 
 treason in time of warfare to be used, which were no treason before 
 his time, but to be treason in his time, and in all time coming.” 
 
 P. 68, 1. 29. 
 
 The Bloody Heart blazed in the van , 
 
 Announcing Douglas, dreaded name ! 
 
 The chief of this potent race of heroes, about the date of the 
 poem, was Archibald Douglas, seventh Earl of Angus, a man of 
 great courage and activity. The Bloody Heart was the well-known 
 cognizance of the house of Douglas, assumed from the time of good 
 Lord James, to whose care Robert Bruce committed his heart, to be 
 carried to the Holy Land. 
 
 P. 68, 1. 32. 
 
 Where the Seven Spears of Wedderburne. 
 
 Sir David Home of Wedderburn, who was slain in the fatal battle 
 of Flodden, left seven sons by his wife, Isabel, daughter of Hop- 
 pringle of Galashiels (now Pringle of Whitebank). They were 
 called the Seven Spears of Wedderburne. 
 
 P. 69, 1. 1. 
 
 And Swinton laid the lance in rest, 
 
 That tamed, of yore, the sparkling crest 
 Of Clarence's Plantagenet. 
 
 At the battle of Beauge in France, Thomas, Duke of Clarence, 
 brother to Henry V., was unhorsed by Sir John Swinton of Swinton, 
 
NOTES. 
 
 157 
 
 who distinguished him by a coronet set with precious stones, which 
 he wore around his helmet. The family of Swinton is one of the 
 most ancient in Scotland, and produced many celebrated warriors. 
 
 P. 69, 1. 7. 
 
 Beneath the crest of old Dunbar, 
 
 And Hepburn's mingled banners come , 
 
 Doivn the steep mountain glittering far. 
 
 And shouting still, “ a Home! A Home! ” 
 
 The Earls of Home, as descendants of the Dunbars, ancient Earls 
 of March, carried a lion rampant, argent ; but, as a difference, 
 changed the colour of the shield from gules to vert, in allusion to 
 Greenlaw, their ancient possession. The slogan, or war-cry, of this 
 powerful family was, “a Home! a Home!” It was anciently 
 placed in an escrol above the crest. The helmet is armed with a 
 lion’s head erased gules, with a cap of state gules, turned up 
 ermine. 
 
 The Hepburns, a powerful family in East Lothian, were usually 
 in close alliance with the Homes. The chief of this clan was 
 Hepburn, Lord of Hailes ; a family which terminated in the too 
 famous Earl of Bothwell. 
 
 P. 70, 1. 21. 
 
 Pursued the foot-ball play . 
 
 The foot-ball was anciently a very favourite sport all through 
 Scotland, but especially upon the Borders. Sir John Carmichael 
 of Carmichael, w r arden of the middle marches, was killed in 1600 by 
 a band of the Armstrongs, returning from a foot-ball match. Sir 
 Robert Carey, in his Memoirs, mentions a great meeting, appointed 
 by the Scottish riders, to be held at Kelso, for the purpose of playing 
 at foot-ball, but which terminated in an incursion upon England. 
 At present, the foot-ball is often played by the inhabitants of 
 adjacent parishes, or of the opposite banks of a stream. The victory 
 is contested with the utmost fury, and very serious accidents have 
 sometimes taken place in the struggle. 
 
 P. 70, 1. 33. 
 
 ’ Twixt truce and war, such sudden change 
 Was not unfrequent, nor held strange. 
 
 In the old Border day. 
 
 Notwithstanding the constant wars upon the Borders, and the 
 occasional cruelties which marked the mutual inroads, the inha- 
 bitants on either side do not appear to have regarded each other 
 with that violent and personal animosity, which might have been 
 expected. On the contrary, like the outposts of hostile armies, they 
 often carried on something resembling friendly intercourse, even in 
 the middle of hostilities ; and it is evident, from various ordinances 
 against trade and inter-marriages between English and Scottish 
 
158 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 Borderers, that the governments of both countries were jealous of 
 their cherishing too intimate a connection. Froissart says of both 
 nations that “ Englyshemen on the one party, and Scottes on the 
 other party, are good men of warre ; for when they meet, there is a 
 harde fight without sparynge. There is no hoo (truce) between them 
 as long as spears, swords, axes, or daggers, will endure, but lay on 
 eche upon uther ; and whan they be well beaten, and that the one 
 party hath obtained the victory, they then gloryfye so in theyre 
 dedes of armes, and are so joyfull, that such as be taken they shall 
 be ransomed, or that they go out of the felde ; so that shortly each 
 of them is so content with other, that at their departynge, curtysyle 
 they will say, God thank you.” — Berners’ Froissart, Yol. II. p. 
 153. The Border meetings of truce, which, although places of 
 merchandise and merriment, often witnessed the most bloody 
 scenes, may serve to illustrate the description in the text. They 
 are vividly portrayed in the old ballad of the Reidsquair. Both 
 parties came armed to a meeting of the wardens, yet they intermixed 
 fearlessly find peaceably with each other in mutual sports and 
 familiar intercourse, until a casual fray arose : 
 
 Then was there nought but bow and spear. 
 
 And every man pulled out a brand. 
 
 In the 29th stanza of this Canto, there is an attempt to express 
 some of the mixed feelings, with which the Borderers on each side 
 were led to regard their neighbours. 
 
 P. 71, 1. 12. 
 
 And frequent , on the darkening plain , 
 
 Loud hallo, whoop or whistle ran, 
 
 As hands, their stragglers to regain. 
 
 Gave the shrill watch-word of their clan ; 
 
 Patten remarks, with bitter censure, the disorderly conduct of 
 the English Borderers, who attended the Protector Somerset on his 
 expedition against Scotland. “ As we wear then a setting, and the 
 tents a setting up, among all things els commendable in our hole 
 journey, one thing seemed to me an intolerable disorder and abuse : 
 that whearas allways, both in all tonnes of war, and in all campes 
 of armies, quietnes and stilnes, without nois, is, principally in the 
 night, after the watch is set, observed (I nede not reason why,) our 
 northern prikkers, the Borderers, notwithstandyng, with great 
 enormitie (as thought me,) and not unlike (to be playn) unto a 
 masteries hounde howlyng in a hie wey when he hath lost him he 
 waited upon, sum hoopynge, sum whistlyng, and most with crying, 
 A Berwyke, a Berwyke ! A Fenwyke, a Fenwyke ! A Bulmer, a 
 Bulmer ! or so otherwise as theyr captains names wear, never lin’de 
 these troublous and dangerous noyses all the nyghte longe. They 
 said they did it to finde their captain and fellows ; but if the soul- 
 diers of our oother countreys and sheres had used the same maner, 
 in that case we should have ’oft tymes had the state of our camp 
 
NOTES. 
 
 1.59 
 
 more like the outrage of a dissolute huntyng, than the quiet of a 
 well ordred armye. It is a feat of war, in mine opinion, that might 
 right well be left. I could reherse causes (but yf I take it, they are 
 better unspoken than uttred, unless the faut wear sure to be 
 amended) that might shew thei move alweis more peral to our 
 armie, but in their one nyght’s so doynge, than they shew good 
 service (as sum sey) inahoole vyage.” — Apud Dalzell’s Fragments, 
 p. 75. 
 
 P. 82, 1. 24. 
 
 Cheer the dark blood-hound on his way, 
 
 And with the hugle rouse the fray ! 
 
 The pursuit of Border marauders was followed by the injured 
 party and his friends with blood-hounds and bugle-horn, and was 
 called the hot-trod. He was entitled, if his dog could trace the 
 scent, to follow the invaders into the opposite kingdom ; a privilege 
 which often occasioned blood-shed. In addition to what has been 
 said of the blood-hound, I may add, that the breed was kept up by 
 the Buccleuch family on their Border estates till within the 18th 
 century. A person was alive in the memory of man, who remem- 
 bered a blood-hound being kept at Eldinhope, in Ettricke Forest, 
 for whose maintenance the tenant had an allowance of meal. At 
 that time the sheep were always watched at night. Upon one occa- 
 sion, when the duty had fallen on the narrator, then a lad, he be- 
 came exhausted with fatigue, and fell asleep, upon a bank, near 
 sun-rising. Suddenly he was awakened by the tread of horses, and 
 saw five men, well mounted and armed, ride briskly over the edge 
 of the hill. They stopped, and looked at the flock ; but the day was 
 too far broken to admit the chance of their carrying any of them off. 
 One of them, in spite, leaped from his horse, and, coming to the 
 shepherd, seized him by the belt he wore round his waist ; and, set- 
 ting his foot upon his body, pulled it till it broke, and carried it 
 away with him. They rode off at the gallop ; and, the shepherd 
 giving the alarm, the blood-hound was turned loose, and the people 
 in the neighbourhood alarmed. The marauders, however, escaped, 
 notwithstanding a sharp pursuit. This circumstance serves to show 
 how very long the licence of the Borderers continued in some degree 
 to manifest itself. 
 
 P. 87, 1. 13. 
 
 She wrought not by forbidden spell : 
 
 Popular belief, though contrary to the doctrines of the church, 
 made a favourable distinction betwixt magicians, and necromancers, 
 or wizards ; the former were supposed to command the evil spirits, 
 and the latter to serve, or at least to be in league and compact with, 
 those enemies of mankind. The art of subjecting the daemons were 
 manifold ; sometimes the fiends were actually swindled by the 
 magicians, as in the case of the bargain betwixt one of their number 
 and the poet Virgil. The classical reader will doubtless be curious 
 to peruse this anecdote : 
 
160 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 “ Yirgilius was at scole at Tolenton, where he stodyed dylygently, 
 for he was of great under standynge. Upon a tyme, the scolers had 
 lycense to go to play and sporte them in the fyldes, after the usance 
 of the holde tyme. And there was also Yirgilius therbye, also 
 walkynge among the hylles alle about. It fortuned he spyed a great 
 hole in the syde of a great hyll, wherein he went so depe, that he 
 culd not see no more lyght ; and than he went a ly tell farther therin, 
 and than he saw some lyght agayne, and than he went fourth 
 streyghte, and within a lytyll wyle after he harde a voyce’ that 
 called, « Yirgilius ! Yirgilius !’ and looked aboute, and he colde nat 
 see no body. Than sayd he, (i. e. the voice) ‘Yirgilius, see ye not 
 the lytyll bourde lying bysyde you there markd with that word?’ 
 Than answered Virgilius, ‘ I see that horde well anough.’ The 
 voyce said, 4 Doo awaye that horde, and lette me out there atte.’ 
 Than answered Yirgilius to the voice that was under the lytell 
 borde, and sayd, ‘Who art thou that callest me so?’ Than an- 
 swered the devyll, “ I am a devyll conjured out of the body of a 
 certeyne man, and banysshed here tyll the day of judgemend, with- 
 out that I be delyvered by the handes of men. Thus, Virgilius, I 
 pray the, delyvere me out of this payn, and I shall shewe unto the 
 many bokes of negromancye, and how thou shalt come by it lyghtly, 
 and know the practise therein, that no man in the scyence of negro- 
 mancye shall passe the. And moreover, I shall shewe and enforme 
 the so, that thou shalt have alle thy desyre, whereby mythinke it 
 is a great gyfte for so lytyll a doyng. For ye may also thus all your 
 power frendys helpe, and make ryche your enemyes.’ — Thorough 
 that great promyse was Yirgilius tempted ; he badde the fynd show 
 the bokes to him, that he might have and occupy them at his wyll ; 
 and so the fynde shewed hym. And than Yirgilius pulled open a 
 bourde, and there was a lytell hole, and therat wrang the devyll out 
 lyke a yeel, and cam and stode before Yirgilius lyke a bygge man; 
 wherof Virgilius was astonied, and marveyled greatly thereof, that 
 so great a man myglit come out at so lytyll a hole. Than sayd 
 Virgilius, « Shulde ye well passe into the hole that ye cam out of?’ 
 — ‘ Yea, I shall well,’ said the devyl. * I holde the best plegge that 
 I have, that ye shall not do it.’— ‘ Well,’ sayd the devyll, ‘ thereto I 
 consent.’ And than the devyll wrange himselfe into the lytyll hole 
 ageyne ; and as he was therein, Yirgilius ky verd the hole ageyne 
 with the bourde close, and so was the devyll begyled, and myght 
 nat there come out agen, but abydeth shytte styll therein. Than 
 called the devyll dredefully to Yirgilius, and said, ‘ What have ye 
 done, Virgilius? ’ Yirgilius answered, ‘ Abyde there styll to your 
 day appointed:’ and fro thens forth abydeth he there. — And so 
 Yirgilius became very connynge in the practyse of the black 
 scyence.” 
 
 This story may remind the reader of the Arabian tale of the 
 Fisherman and the imprisoned Genie ; and it is more than probable, 
 that many of the marvels narrated in the life of Virgil are of ori- 
 ental extraction. Among such I am disposed to reckon the follow- 
 ing whimsical account, of the foundation of Naples, containing a 
 curious theory concerning the origin of the earthquakes with which 
 
NOTES, 
 
 101 
 
 it is afflicted. Virgil, who was a person of gallantry, had, it seems, 
 carried off the daughter of a certain Soldan, and was anxious to 
 secure his prize. 
 
 “ Than he thought in his mynde howe he myghte mareye hyr, 
 and thought in his mynde to founde in the middes of the see a fayer 
 towne, with great landes belongynge to it ; and so he dyd by his 
 cunnynge, and called it Napells. And the fandacyon of it was of 
 egges, and in that towne of Napells he made a tower with iiii cor- 
 ners, and in the toppe he set an appell upon a yron yarde, and no 
 man culde pull away that apell without he brake it ; and thoroughe 
 that yren set he a bolte, and in that bolte set he a egge. And he 
 henge the apell by the stauke upon a cheyne, and so hangeth it still. 
 And when the egge styrreth, so shulde the towne of Napells quake ; 
 and whan the egge brake, than shulde the towne sinke. Whan he 
 had made an ende, he lette call it Napells.” This appears to have 
 been an article of current belief during the middle ages, as appears 
 from the statutes of the order Du Saint Esprit , au droit desir, insti- 
 tuted in 1352. A chapter of the knights is appointed to be held 
 annually at the Castle of the Enchanted Egg, near the grotto of 
 Virgil.— Montfaucon, Vol. II. p. 329. 
 
 P. 87, 1. 24. 
 
 A merlin sat upon her wrist, 
 
 A merlin, or sparrow-hawk, was usually carried by ladies of rank, 
 as a falcon was, in time of peace, the constant attendant of a knight 
 or baron. See Latham on Falconry. — Godscroft relates, that when 
 Mary of Lorraine was regent, she pressed the Earl of Angus to admit 
 a royal garrison into his castle of Tantallon. To this he returned no 
 direct answer ; but, as if apostrophising a goss-hawk, which sat on 
 his wrist, and which he was feeding during the Queen’s speech, he 
 exclaimed, “ The devil’s in this greedy glade, she will never be full.” 
 —Hume’s History of the House of Douglas, 1743, Vol. II. p. 131. 
 Barclay complains of the common and indecent practice of bringing 
 hawks and hounds into churches. 
 
 P. 88, 1. 2. 
 
 And princely peacock's gilded train, 
 
 The peacock, it is well known, was considered, during the times 
 of chivalry, not merely as an exquisite delicacy, but as a dish of 
 peculiar solemnity. After being roasted, it was again decorated 
 with its plumage, and a spunge, dipped in lighted spirits of wine, was 
 placed in its bill. When it was introduced on days of grand festival, 
 it was the signal for the adventurous knights to take upon them 
 vows to do some deed of chivalry, “ before the peacock and the 
 ladies.” 
 
 M 
 
162 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 P. 88, 1. 3. 
 
 And o’er the hoar-head , garnished brave. 
 
 The hoar’s head was also an usual dish of feudal splendour. In 
 Scotland it was sometimes surrounded with little banners, display- 
 ing the colours and achievements of the baron at whose board it was 
 served.— -Pinkerton’s History , Vol. I. p. 432. 
 
 P. 88, 1. 4. 
 
 And cygnet from St. Mary’s wave ; 
 
 There are often flights of wild swans upon St. Mary’s Lake, at the 
 head of the river Yarrow. 
 
 P. 88, 1. 32. 
 
 Smote, with his gauntlet, stout Hunthill ; 
 
 The Rutherfords of Hunthill were an ancient race of border lairds, 
 whose names occur in history, sometimes as defending the frontier 
 against the English, sometimes as disturbing the peace of their own 
 country. Dickon Draw-the-sword was son to the ancient warrior, 
 called in tradition the Cock of Hunthill. 
 
 P. 89, 1. 6. 
 
 But hit his glove, and shook his head. 
 
 To bite the thumb, or the glove, seems not to have been considered, 
 upon the Border, as a gesture of contempt, though so used by Shak- 
 speare, but as a pledge of mortal revenge. It is yet remembered, 
 that a young gentleman of Teviotdale, on the morning after a hard 
 drinking-bout, observed that he had bitten his glove. He instantly 
 demanded of his companion, with whom he had quarrelled ? and 
 learning that he had had words with one of the party, insisted on 
 instant satisfaction, asserting, that though he remembered nothing 
 of the dispute, yet he was sure he never would have bit his glove 
 unless he had received some unpardonable insult. He fell in the 
 duel, which was fought near Selkirk, in 1721. 
 
 P. 89, 1. 22, 
 
 Arthur Fire-the-Braes ; 
 
 The person, bearing this redoubtable nomme de guerre , was an 
 Elliot, and resided at Thorleshope in Liddisdale. He occurs in the 
 list of Border riders, in 1597. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 163 
 
 P. 89, 1. 32. 
 
 Since old Buccleuch the name did gain , 
 
 When in the clench the buck was ta'en. 
 
 A tradition, preserved by Scott of Satchells, who published, in 
 1688, A true History of the right Honourable Name of Scott , gives 
 the following romantic origin of that name. Two brethren, natives 
 of Galloway, having been banished from that country for a riot, or 
 insurrection, came to Rankelburn, in Ettricke Forest, where the 
 keeper, whose name was Brydone, received them joyfully, on 
 account of their skill in winding the horn, and in the other 
 mysteries of the chase. — Kenneth Mac-Alpin, then king of Scotland, 
 came soon after to hunt in the royal forest, and pursued a buck 
 from Ettricke-heuch to the glen now called Buckleuch, about two 
 miles above the junction of Rankelburn with the river Ettricke. — 
 Here the stag stood at bay ; and the king and his attendants, who 
 followed on horseback, were thrown out by the steepness of the hill 
 and the morass. John, one of the brethren from Galloway, had 
 followed the chase on foot ; and now coming in seized the buck by 
 the horns, and, being a man of great strength and activity, threw 
 him on his back, and ran with his burden about a mile up the 
 steep hill, to a place called Cracra-Cross, where Kenneth had halted, 
 and laid the buck at the sovereign’s feet* : 
 
 The deer being curee’d in that place, 
 
 At his Majesty’s demand, 
 
 Then John of Galloway ran apace. 
 
 And fetched water to his hand. 
 
 The King did wash into a dish, 
 
 And Galloway John he wot ; 
 
 He said, “ Thy name now after this 
 Shall ever be called John Scott. 
 
 “ The forest, and the deer therein, 
 
 We commit to thy hand : 
 
 For thou shalt sure the ranger be, 
 
 If thou obey command : 
 
 And for the Buck thou stoutly brought 
 To us up that steep heuch, 
 
 Thy designation ever shall 
 
 Be John Scott in Buckscleuch.” 
 
 ********* 
 
 * Froissart relates, that a knight of the household of the Compte de Foix 
 exhibited a similar feat of strength. The hall-fire had waxed low, and wood 
 was wanted to mend it. The kmght went down to the court-yard, where stood 
 an ass laden with faggots, seized on the animal and his burden, and, carrying 
 him up to the hall on his shoulders, tumbled him into the chimney with his heels 
 uppermost ; a humane pleasantry ! much applauded by the Count and all the 
 spectators. 
 
 31 2 
 
164 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 In Scotland no Buckcleuch was then, 
 
 Before the buck in the cleuch was slain ; 
 
 Night’s men * at first they did appear, 
 
 Because moon and stars to their arms they hear. 
 
 Their crest, supporters, and hunting-horn, 
 
 Shews their beginning from hunting came ; 
 
 Their name, and style, the book doth say, 
 
 John gained them both into one day. 
 
 Watt’s Bellanden. 
 
 The Buccleuch arms have been altered, and now allude less 
 pointedly to this hunting, whether real or fabulous. The family 
 now bear Or upon a bend azure, a mullet betwixt two crescents of 
 the field ; in addition to which, they formerly bore in the field a 
 hunting-horn. The supporters, now two ladies, were formerly a 
 hound and buck, or, according to the old terms, a hart of leash, and 
 a hart of greece. The family of Scott of Howpasley and Thirlestane 
 long retained the bugle-horn ; they also carried a bent bow and 
 arrow in the sinister cantle, perhaps as a difference. It is said the 
 motto was, — Best riding by moonlight, in allusion to the crescents 
 on the shield, and perhaps to the habits of those who bore it. The 
 motto now given is Amo , applying to the female supporters. 
 
 P. 90, 1. 26. 
 
 old Albert Grcpme , 
 
 The Minstrel of that ancient name : 
 
 John Grahame, second son of Malice, Earl of Monteith, com- 
 monly sirnamed John with the Bright Sword, upon some displeasure 
 risen against him at court, retired, with many of his clan and 
 kindred, into the English Borders, in the reign of King Henry the 
 Fourth, where they seated themselves; and many of their posterity 
 have continued there ever since. Mr. Sandford, speaking of them, 
 says (which indeed was applicable to most of the Borderers on both 
 sides), “They were all stark moss-troopers, and arrant thieves: 
 
 * “ Minions of the moon,” as Falstaff would have said. The vocation pursued 
 by our ancient Borderers may be justified cn the authority of the most polished 
 of the ancient nations: “ For the Grecians in old time, and such barbarians as in 
 the continent lived neere unto the sea, or else inhabited the islands, after once 
 they began to crosse over one to another in ships, became theeyes, and went 
 abroad under the conduct of their more puissant men, both to enrich themselves 
 and to fetch in maintenance for the weak : and falling upon towns unfortified, 
 or scatteringly inhabited, rifled them, and made this the best means of their 
 living; being a matter at that time nowhere in disgrace, but rather carrying 
 with it something of glory. This is manifest by some that dwell upon the 
 continent, amongst whom, so it be performed nobly, it is still esteemed as an 
 ornament. The same is also proved by some of the ancient poets, who intro- 
 duced men questioning of such as sail by, on all coasts alike, whether they be 
 theeves or not ; as a thing neyther scorned by such as were asked, nor up- 
 braided by those that were desirous to know. They also robbed one another 
 within the main-land : and much of Greece useth that old custome, as the 
 Locrians, the Acarnanians, and those of the continent in that quarter, unto this 
 day. Moreover the fashion of wearing iron remaineth yet with the people of 
 that continent, from their old trade of thee ving.”— Hobbes’ Thucydides, p. 4. 
 Lond. 1(529. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 165 
 
 Both to England and Scotland outlawed ; yet sometimes connived 
 at, because they gave intelligence forth of Scotland, and would raise 
 400 horse at any time upon a raid of the English into Scotland. A 
 saying is recorded of a mother to her son (which is now become 
 proverbial). Ride, Rowley, hough's i ' th> pot : that is, the last piece 
 of beef was in the pot, and therefore it was high time for him to 
 go and fetch more.” — Introduction to the History of Cumberland. 
 
 The residence of the Graemes being chiefly in the Debateable 
 Land, so called because it was claimed by both kingdoms, their 
 depredations extended both to England and Scotland, with im- 
 punity ; for as both wardens accounted them the proper subjects 
 of their own prince, neither inclined to demand reparation for their 
 excesses from the opposite officers, which would have been an 
 acknowledgment of his jurisdiction over them. — See a long corres- 
 pondence on this subject betwixt Lord Dacre and the English Privy 
 Council, in Introduction to History of Cumberland. The Debate- 
 able Land was finally divided betwixt England and Scotland, by 
 commissioners appointed by both nations. 
 
 P. 91, 1.6. 
 
 The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall ; 
 
 This burthen is adopted, with some alteration, from an old 
 Scottish song, beginning thus : 
 
 She leaned her back against a thorn, 
 
 The sun shines fair on Carlisle wa’ ; 
 
 And there she has her young babe born, 
 
 And the lyon shall be lord of a’. 
 
 P. 92, 1. 12. 
 
 Who has not heard of Surrey's fame ? 
 
 The gallant and unfortimate Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, was 
 unquestionably the most accomplished cavalier of his time ; and his 
 sonnets display beauties which would do honour to a more polished 
 age. He was beheaded on Tower-hill in 1546 ; a victim to the mean 
 jealousy of Henry VIH., who could not bear so brilliant a character 
 near his throne. 
 
 The song of the supposed bard is founded on an incident said to 
 have happened to the Earl in his travels. Cornelius Agrippa, the 
 celebrated alchemist, shewed him, in a looking glass, the lovely 
 Geraldine, to whose service he had devoted his pen and his sword. 
 The vision represented her as indisposed, and reclined upon a 
 couch, reading her lover’s verses by the light of a waxen taper. 
 
 P. 94, 1. 28. 
 
 The storm-swept Or cades ; 
 
 Where erst St. Clairs held princely sway 
 
 O'er isle and islet, strait and bay ; — 
 
 The St. Clairs are of Norman extraction, being descended from 
 William de St. Clair, second son of Walderne Compte de St. Clair, 
 
166 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 and Margaret, daughter to Richard Duke of Normandy. He was 
 called, for his fair deportment, the Seemly St. Clair ; and settling 
 in Scotland during the reign of Malcolm Ceanmore, obtained large 
 grants of land in Mid-Lothian. — These domains were increased by 
 the liberality of succeeding monarchs to the descendants of the 
 family, and comprehended the boronies of Rosline, Pentland, 
 Cowsland, Cardaine, and several others. It is said a large addition 
 was obtained from Robert Bruce, on the following occasion : The 
 king, in following the chase upon Pentland hills, had often started 
 a “ white faunch deer,” which had always escaped from his hounds ; 
 and he asked the nobles, who were assembled around him, whether 
 any of them had dogs, which they thought might be more success- 
 ful. No courtier would affirm that his hounds were fleeter than 
 those of the king, until Sir William St. Ciair of Rosline uncere- 
 moniously said, he would wager his head that his two favourite 
 dogs, Help and Hold , would kill the deer before she could cross the 
 March-burn. The king instantly caught at his unwary offer, and 
 betted the forest of Pentland-moor against the life of Sir William St. 
 Clair. All the hounds were tied up, except a few ratches, or slow 
 hounds, to put up the deer ; while Sir William St. Clair, posting 
 himself in the best situation for flipping his dogs, prayed devoutly 
 to Christ, the blessed Virgin, and St. Katherine. The deer was 
 shortly after roused, and the hounds slipped ; Sir William following 
 on a gallant steed, to cheer his dogs. The hind, however, reached 
 the middle of the brook ; upon which the hunter threw himself 
 from his horse in despair. At this critical moment, however, Hold 
 stopped her in the brook ; and Help, coming up, turned her back, 
 and killed her on Sir William’s side. The king descended from the 
 hill, embraced Sir William, and bestowed on him the lands of 
 Kirkton, Logan-house, Earncraig, &c. in free forestrie. Sir William, 
 in acknowledgment of St. Katherine’s intercession, built the chapel 
 of St. Katherine in the Hopes, the church-yard of which is still to 
 be seen. The hill, from which Robert Bruce beheld this memorable 
 chase, is still called the King’s Hill ; and the place where Sir William 
 hunted is called the Knight’s Field*. — MS. History of the Family of 
 St Clair , by Richard Augustin Hay, Canon of St. Genevieve. 
 
 This adventurous huntsman married Elizabeth, daughter of 
 Malice Spar, Earl of Orkney and Stratherne, in whose right their 
 son Henry was, in 1379, created Earl of Orkney, by Haco, king of 
 Norway. His title was recognised by the kings of Scotland, and 
 remained with his successors until it was annexed to the crown, in 
 
 * The tomb of Sir William St. Clair, on which he appears sculptured in armour, 
 with a greyhound at his feet, is still to be seen in Roslin chapel. The person, 
 who shows it, always tells the story of his hunting-match, with some addition 
 to Mr. Hay’s account ; as that the knight of Rosline’s fright made him poetical, 
 and that, in the last emergency, he shouted. 
 
 Help, haud, an’ ye may. 
 
 Or Roslin will lose his head this day. 
 
 If this couplet does him no great honour as a poet, the conclusion of the story 
 does him still less credit. He set his foot on the dog, says the narrator, and 
 killed him on the spot, saying, he would never again put his neck in such a 
 risque. As Mr. Hay does not mention this circumstance, I hope it is only 
 founded on the couchant posture of the hound on the monument. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 167 
 
 1471, by act of parliament. In exchange for this earldom, the castle 
 and domains of Ravenscraig, or Ravensheuch, were conferred on 
 William Saintclair, Earl of Caithness. 
 
 P. 94,1. 31. 
 
 Still nods their palace to its fall, 
 
 Thy pride and sorrow, fair Kirkwall ! 
 
 The castle of Kirkway was built by the St. Clairs, while Earls of 
 Orkney. It was dismantled by the Earls of Caithness about 1615, 
 having been garrisoned against the government by Robert Stewart, 
 natural son to the Earl of Orkney. 
 
 Its ruins afforded a sad subject of contemplation to John, Master 
 of St. Clair, who, flying from his native country, on account of his 
 share in the insurrection, 1715, made some stay at Kirkwall. 
 
 “I had occasion to entertain myself at Kirkwall with the melan- 
 cholie prospect of the ruins of an old castle, the seat of the old Earls 
 of Orkney, my ancestors ; and of a more melancholy reflection, of 
 so great and noble an estate as the Orkney and Shetland isles being 
 taken from one of them by James the Third for faultrie, after his 
 brother Alexander, Duke of Albany, had married a daughter of my 
 family, and for protecting and defending the said Alexander against 
 the king, who wished to kill him, as he had done his youngest 
 brother, the Earl of Mar ; and for which, after the forfaultrie, he 
 gratefully divorced my forfaulted ancestor’s sister ; though I cannot 
 persuade myself that he had any misalliance to plead against a 
 familie in whose veins the blood of Robert Bruce run as fresh as in 
 his own ; for their title to the crown was by a daughter of David 
 Bruce, son to Robert ; and our alliance was by marrying a grand- 
 child of the same Robert Bruce, and daughter to the sister of the 
 same David, out of the familie of Douglass, which at that time did 
 not much sullie the blood, more than my ancestour’s having not 
 long before had the honour of marrying a daughter of the king of 
 Denmark’s, who was named Florentine, and has left in the town of 
 Kirkwall a noble monument of the grandeur of the times, the finest 
 church ever I saw entire in Scotland. I then had no small reason 
 to think, in that unhappy state, on the many not inconsiderable 
 services rendered since to the royal familie, for these many years 
 by-gone, on all occasions, when they stood most in need of friends, 
 which they have thought themselves very often obliged to acknow- 
 ledge by letters yet extant, and in a stile more like friends than 
 souveraigns; our attachment to them, without anie other thanks, 
 having brought upon us considerable losses, and, among others, that 
 of our all in Cromwell’s time ; and left in that condition, without 
 the least relief, except what we found in our own virtue. My father 
 was the only man of the Scots nation who had courage enough to 
 protest in parliament against King William’s title to the throne, 
 which was lost, God knows how : and this at a time when the losses 
 in the cause of the royal familie, and their usual gratitude, had 
 scarce left him bread to maintain a numerous familie of eleven chil- 
 dren, who had soon after sprung up on him, in spite of all which, 
 
168 
 
 NOTES, 
 
 he had honourably persisted in his principle. I say, these things 
 considered, and after being treated as I was, and in that unluckie 
 state, when objects appear to men in their true light, as at the hour 
 of death, could I be blamed for making some bitter reflections to 
 myself, and laughing at the extravagance and unaccountable hu- 
 mour of men, and the singularitie of my own case (an exile for the 
 cause of the Stuart family,) when I ought to have known, that the 
 greatest crime I, or my family, could have committed, was perse- 
 vering, to my own destruction, in serving the royal family faith- 
 fully, though obstinately, after so great a share of depression, and 
 after they had been pleased to doom me and my family to starve.” — 
 MS. Memoir's of John, Master of St Clair. 
 
 P. 95, 1. 11. 
 
 Kings of the main their leaders brave, 
 
 Their barks the dragons of the wave. 
 
 The chiefs of the Vakingr, or Scandinavian pirates, assumed the 
 title of Scekonungr , or Sea-kings. Ships, in the inflated language 
 of the Scalds, are often termed the serpents of the ocean. 
 
 P. 95, 1. 19. 
 
 Of that Sea-Snake, tremendous curled, 
 
 Whose monstrous circle girds the world ; 
 
 The jormungan dr , or Snake of the Ocean, whose folds surround 
 the earth, is one of the wildest fictions of the Edda. It was very 
 nearly caught by the god Thor, who went to fish for it with a hook 
 baited with a bull’s head. In the battle betwixt the evil daemons 
 and the divinities of Odin, which is to precede the Ragnarockr, or 
 Twilight of the Gods, this Snake is to act a conspicuous part. 
 
 P. 95, 1. 21. 
 
 Of those dread Maids, whose- hideous yell 
 Maddens the battle's bloody swell ; 
 
 These were the Valkyr iur , or Selectors of the Slain, dispatched 
 by Odin from Valhalla, to choose those who were to die, and to 
 distribute the contest. They are well known to the English reader, 
 as Gray’s Fatal Sisters. 
 
 P. 95, 1. 25. 
 
 Ransacked the graves of warriors old, 
 
 Their faulchions wrenched from corpses' hold, 
 
 The northern warriors were usually entombed with their arms, 
 and their other treasures. Thus Angantyr, before commencing the 
 duel in which he was slain, stipulated that, if he fell, his sword 
 Tyrfing should be buried with him. His daughter, Hervor, after- 
 wards took it from his tomb. The dialogue which passed betwixt her 
 
NOTES. 
 
 169 
 
 and Angantyr’s spirit on this occasion has been often translated. 
 The whole history may be found in the Hervarar-Saga. Indeed the 
 ghosts of the northern warriors were not wont tamely to suffer their 
 tombs to be plundered : and hence the mortal heroes had an addi- 
 tional temptation to attempt such adventures ; for they held nothing 
 more worthy of their valour, than to encounter supernatural beings. 
 —Bartholin us De causis contemptce a Danis mortis. Lib. I. cap. 2, 
 9, 10, 13. 
 
 P. 96, 1. 4. 
 
 Rosabelle. 
 
 This was a family name in the house of St. Clair. Henry St. 
 Clair, the second of the line, married Rosabelle, fourth daughter 
 of the Earl of Stratherne. 
 
 P. 96, 1. 7. 
 
 Castle Ravensheuch , 
 
 A large and strong castle, now ruinous, situated betwixt Kirkaldy 
 and Dysart, on a steep crag, washed by the Firth of Forth. It was 
 conferred on Sir William St. Clair, as a slight compensation for 
 the Earldom of Orkney, by a charter of King James III., dated in 
 1471 , and is now the property of Sir James St. Clair Erskine, (now 
 Earl of Rosslyn), representative of the family. It was long a prin- 
 cipal residence of the Barons of Roslin. 
 
 P. 97, 1. 1. 
 
 Seemed all on fire that chapel proud. 
 
 Where Roslin' s chiefs uncoffined lie ; 
 
 Each Baron, for a sable shroud. 
 
 Sheathed in his iron panoply. 
 
 The beautiful chapel of Roslin is still in tolerable preservation. 
 It was founded in 1446 by William St. Clair, Prince of Orkney, 
 Duke of Oldenbourg, Earl of Caithness and Stratherne, Lord 
 Saint Clair, Lord Niddesdale, Lord Admiral of the Scottish seas. 
 Lord Chief Justice of Scotland, Lord Warden of the three Marches, 
 Baron of Roslin, Pentland, Pentland-moor, &c., Knight of the 
 Cockle and of the Garter, (as is affirmed,) High Chancellor, Cham- 
 berlain, and Lieutenant of Scotland. This lofty person, whose 
 titles, says Godscroft, might weary a Spaniard, built the castle of 
 Roslin, where he resided in princely splendour, and founded the 
 chapel, which is in the most rich and florid style of Gothic archi- 
 tecture. Among the profuse carving on the pillars and buttresses, 
 the rose is frequently introduced, in allusion to the name, with 
 which, however, the flower has no connection ; the etymology 
 being Rosslinnhe, the promontory of the linn, or water-fall. The 
 chapel is said to appear on fire previous to the death of any of his 
 descendants. This superstition, noticed by Slezer in his Theatrum 
 Scotice, and alluded to in the text, is probably of Norwegian deri- 
 vation, and may have been imported by the Earls of Orkney into 
 
170 
 
 NOTES, 
 
 their Lothian domains. The tomb-fires of the north are mentioned 
 in most of the Sagas. 
 
 The Barons of Roslin were buried in a vault beneath the chapel 
 floor. The manner of their interment is thus described by Father 
 Hay, in the MS. history already quoted. 
 
 “ Sir William Sinclair, the father, was a leud man. He kept a 
 miller’s daughter, with whom, it is alledged, he went to Ireland ; 
 yet I think the cause of his retreat was rather occasioned by the 
 Presbyterians, who vexed him sadly, because of his religion being 
 Roman Catholic. His son, Sir William, died during the troubles, 
 and was interred in the chapel of Roslin the very same day that the 
 battle of Dunbar was fought. When my good-father was buried, 
 his (i. e. Sir William’s) corpse seemed to be entire at the opening of 
 the cave ; but when they came to touch his body, it fell into dust. 
 He was laying in his armour, with a red velvet cap on his head, on 
 a flat stone ; nothing was spoiled except a piece of the white furring 
 that went round the cap, and answered to the hinder part of the 
 head. All his predecessors were buried after the same manner, in 
 their armour: late Rosline, my good-father, was the first that was 
 buried in a coffin, against the sentiments of King James the Seventh, 
 who was then in Scotland, and several other persons well versed in 
 antiquity, to whom my mother would not hearken, thinking it 
 beggarly to be buried after that manner. The great expences she 
 was at in burying her husband, occasioned the sumptuary acts 
 which were made in the following parliaments.” 
 
 P. 98, 1. 23. 
 
 “ Gylbin , come! ” 
 
 See the story of Gilpin Horner, pp. 131, 132. 
 
 P. 99, 1. 1. 
 
 For he was speechless, ghastly, wan, 
 
 Like him, of whom the story ran. 
 
 Who spoke the spectre-hound in Man. 
 
 The ancient castle of Peel-town, in the Isle of Man, is surrounded 
 by four churches, now ruinous. Through one of these chapels 
 there was formerly a passage from the guard-room of the garrison. 
 This was closed, it is said, upon the following occasion : “ They say 
 that an apparition, called, in the Mankish language, the Mauthe 
 Doog, in the shape of a large black spaniel, with curled shaggy 
 hair, was used to haunt Peel-castle ; and has been frequently seen 
 in every room, but particularly in the guard-chamber, where, as 
 soon as candles were lighted, it came and lay down before the fire, 
 in presence of all the soldiers, who, at length, by being so much 
 accustomed to the sight of it, lost great part of the terror they were 
 seized with at its first appearance. They still, however, retained a 
 certain awe, as believing it was an evil spirit, which only waited 
 permission to do them hurt ; and, for that reason, forbore swearing 
 
NOTES. 
 
 173 
 
 and all prophane discourse, while in its company. But though they 
 endured the shock of such a guest when all together in a body, none 
 cared to be left alone with it. It being the custom, therefore, for 
 one of the soldiers to lock the gates of the castle at a certain hour, 
 and carry the keys to the captain, to whose apartment, as I said 
 before, the way led through the church, they agreed among them- 
 selves, that whoever was to succeed the ensuing night his fellow in 
 this errand, should accompany him that went first, and by this 
 means no man would be exposed singly to the danger : for I forgot 
 to mention, that the Mauthe Doog was always seen to come out 
 from that passage at the close of day, and return to it again as soon 
 as the morning dawned ; which made them look on this place as its 
 peculiar residence. 
 
 “ One night, a fellow being drunk, and by the strength of his 
 liquor rendered more daring than ordinarily, laughed at the simpli- 
 city of his companions ; and, though it was not his turn to go with 
 the keys, would needs take that office upon him, to testify his 
 courage. All the soldiers endeavoured to dissuade him ; but the 
 more they said, the more resolute he seemed, and swore that he 
 desired nothing more than that the Mauthe Doog would follow him, 
 as it had done the others ; for he would try if it were dog or devil. 
 After having talked in a very reprobate manner for some time, he 
 snatched up the keys, and went out of the guard-room : in some 
 time after his departure, a great noise was heard, but nobody had 
 the boldness to see what occasioned it, till, the adventurer return- 
 ing, they demanded the knowledge of him ; but, as loud and noisy 
 as he had been at leaving them, he was now become sober and silent 
 enough ; for he was never heard to speak more : and though all the 
 time he lived, which was three days, he was entreated by all who 
 came near him, either to speak, or, if he could not do that, to make 
 some signs, by which they might understand what had happened to 
 him ; yet nothing intelligible could be got from him, only that, by 
 the distortion of his limbs and features, it might be guessed that he 
 died in agonies more than is common in a natural death. 
 
 “ The Mauthe Doog was, however, never after seen in the castle, 
 nor would any one attempt to go through that passage ; for which 
 reason it was closed up, and another way made. This accident 
 happened about threescore years since : and I heard it attested by 
 several, but especially by an old soldier, who assured me he had 
 seen it oftener than he had then hairs on his head.” — Waldron’s 
 Description of the Isle of Man, p. 107- 
 
 P. 99, 1. 16. 
 
 And he a solemn sacred plight 
 Did to St. Bride of Douglas make. 
 
 This was a favourite saint of the house of Douglas, and of the Earl 
 of Angus in particular ; as we learn from the following passage : 
 The Queen Regent had proposed to raise a rival noble to the ducal 
 dignity : and discoursing of her purpose with Angus, he answered, 
 
172 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 “ Why not, madam? we are happy that have such a princess, that 
 can know and will acknowledge men’s service, and is willing to 
 recompense it : hut, by the might of God (this was his oath when 
 he was serious and in anger : at other times, it was by St. Bride of 
 Douglas,) if he be a Duke, I will be a Drake ! ” — So she desisted from 
 prosecuting of that purpose. — Godscroft, vol. II. p. 131. 
 
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